Love Captive

by Jacqueline Hope

  The warm friendliness faded out of Carlos's eyes, replaced by a steely glint of arrogance. His lips moved apart in a cold, condescending smile. "Child's play, believe me. I told you I had ordered a drink from the bar, so when I went to pay for that—"

  "You had already bribed the bartender!" Anne broke in indignantly. "So that was how!"

  "Bribed?" Carlos's smile grew even icier, even more contemptuously condescending. "If you mean that I offered him a small amount of money for his cooperation, of course I did. That you should make that sound like something criminal—a bribe indeed! —merely shows once again how myopic you are about this entire situation. Ah, you self-righteous Americans! Your brother abducts my sister, you fly over to aid and abet him, yet in both your eyes I am the criminal. In dealing with people like you, why should I not seek alliance anywhere I can find it?"

  Breathing so hard it was painful, Anne continued to glare in fury at this monstrously self-assured man whose eyes spit such lofty contempt at her. "So you told the bartender where we were going—"

  "I did. I also arranged for two men to meet me there, to stay in concealment under the pier and take your brother into custody the moment he showed up. But he failed to show up, as both of us know." Carlos paused a moment, glancing impatiently away, then his eyes circled back. "But why are we dredging up this ancient history? That is over and done. You say I tricked you, yet I was the one who wasted an entire night with nothing to show for it. Now, however, the tables have turned, and I ask you: Will you phone your brother now or not?"

  Anne stared angrily at Carlos a moment longer, then, as her eyes dropped, she felt a deep sigh rise within her. Though it hurt her to see it, it was time she faced the fact that Carlos was precisely the man his sister had said he was, obsessed with his own desires, unable to see that anyone else had any rights at all. If he could calmly hire two thugs to attack Michael, to take Michael into "custody," as he so self-righteously put it, then he would surely not hesitate to go to the police with a phony story about Michael's being guilty of theft. The situation was hopeless.

  "Well, will you call or won't you?" Carlos demanded again, impatiently.

  With a second, smaller sigh, Anne swung around and began walking again, out of the airport. Carlos fell immediately into step beside her.

  "Carlos, quite possibly I would if I could," Anne remarked wearily. "But I haven't a way in the world of reaching him. I have to wait for him to phone me."

  "And how soon will that be?"

  Anne shrugged, weary tears edging into her eyes. "Two days, he said. He and Dolores didn't want me to return home until they were sure they wouldn't need me anymore. They were feeling so happy, so full of hope—" And just wait until they hear what I now have to say!

  "Then you do know where you plan to stay, as I assumed you did," Carlos snapped with obvious anger. "Otherwise your brother wouldn't know where to phone you. You little fool! You say you're tired, and heaven knows I am too, I'm ready to drop. Yet still you play games. We could have been resting in a cab for minutes now, speeding toward our destination. When are you going to realize there is no way for you to beat me and that you might as well give in and cooperate? It would make everything so very much easier."

  Sure—for you! Anne thought in fury, glancing sideways at the man for whom she now felt enormous contempt. But for the moment at least he seemed to be so firmly in control that to try to obstruct him anymore tonight seemed foolish even to her. More than anything else right now she needed a good night's sleep. Maybe in the morning —oh, surely in the morning everything would look brighter again. Maybe she'd even be able to think of some way out.

  When Anne woke in the morning, she gazed around the room she found herself in with a confused, almost frightened feeling before she remembered where she was. Paris. The most romantic city in the world. Suddenly frowning, she lay in bed struggling to remember half-forgotten lines: Oh, London is a man's town—and then what?—while Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair. Anne smiled softly to herself, enjoying the thought. Paris, with flowers in her hair. Except that somewhere in the city lurked Carlos, like a bumblebee ready to sting and paralyze her. With a deep sigh she climbed out of bed.

  Michael wasn't due to phone until tomorrow, which meant that she had an entire day to herself, in Paris, the City of Enchantment, the City of Light. Washing and dressing, Anne made a firm decision: In spite of everything, Michael and his messy romance, Carlos and his arrogance, she was going to enjoy her one solitary day in Paris. She would push all worries out of her mind and simply let go and enjoy herself!

  As she emerged onto the sidewalk from the small pension where she was staying, Anne saw with pleasure that it was a lovely day, warm and bright. Without any very clear idea of where she was going, she turned to her right and began walking briskly toward a nearby intersection. She had tried to communicate with the tiny, white-haired woman running the boardinghouse, but the woman did not understand English and, sadly enough, Anne understood only the most common French words. Any conversation in French more complicated than "Bonjour, mademoiselle" was quite beyond her. She had gotten the impression that possibly the tiny Frenchwoman had been offering her breakfast, but, not completely sure, she had merely smiled, bowed her head, and left.

  She wasn't terribly hungry at the moment anyway, so she would simply walk until she ran across a cafe or restaurant. The fact that the only money she carried was U.S. currency, and that she would need to exchange her dollars for French francs before buying herself anything, had not yet crossed her mind. All her mental energy was engaged in the nearly impossible task of pushing out of her mind all thought of the future as she decisively insisted to herself that she was going to enjoy the day. Let go and enjoy. Live in the present. All her life she'd dreamed of someday going to Paris and now that she was here she was going to see all she possibly could, pack into her one free day here every delight imaginable. Paris. The City of Light, the City of Love.

  "Anne! Over here, Anne!"

  Anne became aware of the beep-beep of a horn at the same moment she heard her name called. Startled, she stopped walking and glanced around. A small car swerved into the curb and braked. From behind the wheel a tall, elegant figure emerged, waving imperiously to her over the top of the car. It couldn't be, but it was—Carlos!

  "Climb in the car, Anne. It's illegal to park here, and the last thing I need is a ticket. Come on, get in." Carlos dropped down and disappeared inside the tiny car again. Anne caught a renewed glimpse of him as he leaned across the front seat and threw open the passenger door for her.

  In an instant fury, Anne told herself that she wasn't going to do as he said. Why should she? This was her one and only free day, her one chance to see and enjoy the sights of Paris. Why should she allow him to spoil it for her? She owed him nothing, and at this point he could scarcely threaten her with anything more than he already had. Until Michael phoned her tomorrow and she could give him Carlos's message, Carlos would almost surely restrain himself and not rush angrily to the police, an action he had made it reasonably clear he did not want to resort to. So just let him buzz off, in his fancy little car!

  Throwing her head back, Anne began walking briskly forward again, ignoring the little car that crept along the curb keeping pace with her, pretending she didn't hear the constant beep-beep of the horn. Anne reached the intersection, glanced about, and swung around the corner to the right. She was in a neighborhood of large old houses, many of which looked centuries old, and the sidewalk down which she hurried was so narrow two people could scarcely pass each other on it. The street seemed almost as narrow, as though two cars going in opposite directions might have some difficulty passing each other. No wonder so many European cars were compact or subcompact.

  As she continued her fast pace down the sidewalk, Anne no longer heard the beep-beep-beeping horn. She glanced around and saw no sign of Carlos or his car. Thank goodness, he must have given up. Anne slowed her pace a bit, suddenly aware that she was famished.
She hadn't the least idea where she was. The night before she'd given the pension address to Carlos, who had relayed it to the cab driver, and she'd been far too tired to pay any attention to the direction in which they'd gone. Not that it would have helped much had she paid attention. Anne glanced rather worriedly ahead. Where in the world was a cafe, or a bus stop? If only she could catch a bus into the heart of the city…

  At that thought, Anne felt her heart plunge down. Oh dear, how could she catch a bus when she hadn't a French sou on her? The first thing she'd have to do, before she could eat or go anywhere, was convert some of her American money into French. Abruptly she stopped walking, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by it all. Here she was, alone in a foreign city where she spoke scarcely a word of the language, not knowing where she was at the moment or where she wanted to go. What a beginning for a day she had resolutely determined to enjoy! That moment she felt an almost irresistible impulse to swing around and run back to the pension, where at least she had a room with a chair to sit on and a bed to weep on. With gestures, she might even get it through to the tiny little woman who ran the place that she was dreadfully hungry and would truly welcome some food.

  As she stood debating her next move—whether she was going to give in to hunger and fear and return to the boardinghouse or stick by her resolution to see the city and forge courageously ahead— Anne felt a hand clamp down on her shoulder, hard. She was so startled and frightened she jumped. Her eyes jerked around.

  "Oh, Carlos, it's you," she said, almost but not quite admitting to herself the relief she felt. "I thought you'd given up and gone away."

  Carlos's well-shaped mouth moved into an arrogant little smile. "Proving how little you know me. Believe me, Anne, I never give up—on anything. My car, which I arranged to rent this morning, is parked in an alley a block away. Now why don't you be a good little girl and come along with me as you should?" Taking her arm, he attempted to swing her around.

  Instantly irritated, Anne attempted to draw her arm free. "Who says I should? The Almighty Carlos? I wish you'd get over the notion that the entire world owes you obedience. I personally owe you nothing. I thought I had made it perfectly clear that I have absolutely no intention of going anywhere with you!"

  By then Anne had managed to pull her arm out of his grasp and she stood glaring at Carlos. Oh, how this man infuriated her—and how incredibly hand-some he looked in the clear morning light, with his aristocratic features and shining black hair! If only his beautiful form didn't house such a cold, scheming, unrepentant viper! Anne felt unexpected and fervently unwelcome tears come into her eyes. She felt suddenly so hungry and angry she was dizzy.

  Carlos stood before her, his black eyes directly meeting her blue ones. His expression was one of controlled annoyance, as though he were a teacher about out of patience after repeated attempts to deal calmly with a difficult child.

  "Look, Anne, I don't dare leave that car parked where it is very much longer. I came by your pension this morning to make sure you were still there. I wanted to make sure you hadn't pulled some trick and taken off during the night to fly back to Morocco." Carlos's lips curved in an almost friendly little smile. "Proving, I know, that I don't trust you, just as you showed clearly last night that you don't trust me. But you are still here, which I have to admit was a big relief, and here is my suggestion now. You say your brother plans to phone tomorrow, and you have no way of reaching him sooner. All right, I accept that. I will take your word for it, partly because I obviously have no choice. But if that is the case, we both have this day free, have we not? And I venture to suggest that you have never been to Paris before and would enjoy seeing some of the sights. Am I not right again? So here is my suggestion. Let us both put aside our distrust and dislike of one another and join forces for a day of enjoyment and sightseeing. What do you say?"

  Anne squinted her eyes against the bright sun. "Well, I— Let me think about it a moment, all right?" Her pulse pounded hard.

  Carlos broke into a soft, friendly laugh, again taking her arm. "What is there to think about? Possibly you'd rather go sightseeing on your own, but let us be practical about it. Have you any French money on you? By the time you get to a bank and make the exchange, half your day is gone. Even more important, are you sure you remember enough of your high school French to make yourself understood? Textbook French and French as it is spoken here are not always the same."

  In spite of herself, Anne laughed too. By then Carlos, who held her arm, was leading her off down the sidewalk, meeting no resistance from her. "I'm afraid it's even worse than that," she admitted. "For some reason I can no longer remember, I chose to study German instead of French, so I don't even have a high school language course to fall back on. Truthfully, I was getting more than a little worried as to how I was going to get around."

  Carlos glanced around to smile at her, black eyes twinkling. "So I shall be your guide and interpreter, right? And then someday, if we happen to find ourselves in Berlin, you can return the favor, n'est-ce pas?"

  Anne laughed even harder. "Oh, of course. What I remember of my high school German wouldn't even get us safely through buying a meal."

  Carlos joined gaily in her laughter, his handsome face infinitely attractive in this lighthearted mood.

  "Then in Berlin I shall have to serve as your interpreter again."

  "You speak German too?"

  "Mais oui. French, German, Italian, English, a smattering of Russian, and of course Spanish, my native tongue. We Europeans are not as insular as you Americans, you know. We are not shielded on either side by an ocean, as you are. Rather, we live surrounded by neighboring countries. It becomes a matter of necessity that we attempt to understand and be understood."

  I only wish I could understand and be understood by you, Anne thought suddenly, wistfully. A wave of dismay ran through her as she faced how impossible this was. Greater barriers than not sharing the same language separated her from Carlos. Even if she buckled down to learn every language he spoke, there would still remain an impassable gulf of differing culture and social class between them.

  Carlos dropped her arm and his hand caught hers. "So for today we are friends, right? We push out of our minds all thought of enmity and simply become tourists ready to enjoy Paris, the city that many people consider the loveliest and most romantic in the world. Is that agreed?"

  As Anne's eyes held his, she nodded her assent. Carlos gave her fingers a friendly squeeze and flashed her a warm smile.

  "Good enough. And I guarantee one thing, my little American friend. If you will place yourself solely and trustfully in my hands, I shall promise you this: Today will be so crowded with beautiful sights and sounds that by the time it is finally over, at dawn tomorrow, you will admit that it was the most enjoyable and unforgettable day of your life." As Carlos's glittering black eyes met hers, Anne wanted to laugh but found she couldn't. A fear had risen to block her laughter. The best she could do was smile shyly back at him. It wasn't that she feared Carlos couldn't deliver what he had promised. What she feared was that he could.

  Chapter Five

  The day passed in a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds, with an amazing amount of spontaneous, carefree laughter. Carlos, relaxed and friendly, was the most wonderful companion Anne had ever known or even imagined. Had she not clung fiercely, tenaciously, to her knowledge of what he was really like as a person, she would have fallen hopelessly in love with him.

  Carlos drove them first to what he called the most famous boulevard in the world, the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. They sat at a small table in a sidewalk cafe, enjoying a continental breakfast, watching the endless traffic stream by on the multi-lane avenue that was for Anne the embodiment of every romantic postcard she'd ever seen of Paris. As they finished their breakfast, Carlos pulled her eagerly to her feet and asked her how energetic a walker she was.

  "We must walk for a time," he insisted. "Only by walking can we get a real feel for this most historic and textured of cities. And a wa
lk of two miles is nothing, n'est-ce pas?"

  Two miles! Anne instinctively opened her mouth to protest, but at sight of Carlos's eager, challenging grin, she found herself smiling in return and nodding. As Carlos took her arm and led her off, he murmured encouragingly, "We will walk briskly to save time and to make the distance disappear rapidly beneath our feet, non? Surely in your young days as a Girl Scout you often hiked far more than a mere two miles, isn't that so?"

  "But I was never a Girl Scout!" Anne protested.

  Carlos stopped walking and stared at her in surprise. "But I thought all good little American girls were Girl Scouts!"

  Amused by his intent expression, Anne replied laughingly, "Well, maybe I was never a good little girl. Have you thought of that?"

  Carlos's black eyes fixed on hers, and a warmly teasing glint came into them. "Ah, but of course you were! It is only since you've become grown and have seen too many gangster movies that you've let yourself be dragged down into sly and reprobate ways."

  "Of course," Anne agreed, and as Carlos grasped her arm more firmly to lead her forward again, they laughed together.

  "My knowledge of English is quite good, is it not?" Carlos asked a moment later. " 'Sly and reprobate ways'," he quoted himself. "Even in your language I am adept at turning a facile phrase, is this not so?"

  "Indeed, yes," Anne responded agreeably, touched that Carlos should care enough to seek a compliment from her. Maybe he was not quite as arrogantly sure of himself as he seemed. "One can easily tell that while you may be a marine engineer by profession, at heart you are a lover and poet."

  Anne made this comment in a lighthearted, teasing tone, and certainly meant no offense. She was surprised that Carlos glanced immediately around with a suddenly sober expression, black eyes shadowed.