Istanbul Affair

by Joanna Mansell

  'You don't like me, do you?' he said calmly at last.

  Amy hadn't expected him to say anything like that. Slightly flustered, she dragged her eyes away from him and stared ahead instead.

  'I don't have to like you, do I?'

  'No, you don't,' he agreed. 'But it might make things rather difficult over the next few days if we can't manage at least to be polite to each other.'

  'Well, there's one obvious solution,' Amy said promptly. 'Once we get to Istanbul, we can split up. We'll both look for Angeline, and whoever finds her first can contact the other, to let them know she's safe and well.'

  'And what if she isn't safe and well?'

  'I'm sure she will be,' Amy said firmly. 'Angeline knows how to look after herself.'

  'Then you've convinced yourself that she isn't in any real danger? That she's got herself into some silly scrape, but nothing more serious?'

  'I don't believe that she's been kidnapped, if that's what you mean,' Amy said with growing certainty.

  'What about the letter she sent you?'

  'That was just Angeline being over-dramatic. She's probably already sorry that she sent it, and hoping that I'm not rushing out intent on rescuing her. Which I am, thanks to you!' she finished, with another scowl. 'I still don't know how I let you push me into this. It's the craziest thing I've done for a long time.'

  'You don't usually do things on impulse?'

  'No, definitely not.' At least, not any more, she reminded herself with a small shiver.

  'Then you're really not like Angeline, are you?' he said. There was the faintest hint of amusement in his voice, and for some reason that annoyed Amy.

  'I've already told you that I'm not,' she snapped.

  'Do you wish that you were?'

  For a moment, Amy found herself actually considering his question. Did she want to be more like her cousin, whizzing in and out of different relationships, with no scars to mark their ending because there was never any serious involvement in the first place? She gave a brief sigh. It would certainly be more comfortable to be like that!

  'The two of you are alike in some ways,' Benedict went on. 'But you obviously lead very different lives. Do you resent Angeline's successful career in modelling? Are you jealous of your cousin?'

  That jolted Amy out of her introspective thoughts. 'Definitely not!' she said vehemently. 'Who needs glitzy looks, a hectic lifestyle and a whole stream of flashy men?'

  At that, the amusement vanished from Benedict's eyes. In its place came an expression that was a lot less affable. Amy realised that her last remark had probably sounded completely bitchy. She didn't particularly care, though. It didn't matter if this man had a low opinion of her. Whatever he thought of her, it simply wasn't important.

  A rather tense silence stretched between them which Amy eventually decided to break because she was finding it rather uncomfortable.

  'How did you meet Angeline?' she asked, deciding to try to keep the conversation on more neutral ground. An aeroplane wasn't a very good place to have a stand-up row!

  'One of my companies deals with the fashion trade and has its own mail-order catalogue,' he replied, after a short pause. 'Angeline was one of the models we hired when we began photographing the new season's catalogue.'

  One of his companies? thought Amy, her eyebrows drawing together expressively. Just how many did the man own?

  'When I first saw her, something just clicked,' Benedict went on. 'All of my adult life, I feel as if I've been looking for someone. Angeline's the closest I've come to finding that person.'

  'You mean that you've been looking for someone special, and you think that it's Angeline?' Amy said a little incredulously. At the same time, she felt a totally unexpected pang of pity for him. If he thought that Angeline was the perfect partner he had been searching for, then she suspected he was in for a grave disappointment! Unless, of course, her cousin had changed dramatically over the past few weeks—and Amy didn't think that was very likely.

  He obviously thought that he had said enough— perhaps more than enough—because he fell silent after that. Amy didn't make any effort to restart the conversation. The silence that fell between them wasn't uncomfortable this time, and she eventually closed her eyes and tried to pretend that he wasn't even there.

  The plane droned on and, after a while, she dozed. When she finally woke up again, it was a few moments before she could remember where she was. Then she turned her head, saw Benedict Kane's distinctive features, and gave a silent groan. She was on her way to Istanbul on a wild-goose chase!

  She realised that she had woken up because Benedict had touched her arm. She could still feel the warmth of his fingers resting against her skin. As if realising that she didn't like the unexpected contact between them, he smoothly drew his hand away. Then he nodded towards the seatbelt sign, which was lit.

  'We'll be landing in a few minutes.'

  At any other time she would have thoroughly enjoyed this trip and been looking forward to her first sight of Istanbul. Right now, though, she felt tired, despite her long nap, and distinctly irritable.

  By the time she finally plodded off the plane, she was wondering what on earth she was doing here. It was late afternoon by now, and it already felt like a very long day!

  The sun was beating down out of a clear blue sky, and she put on dark glasses, to cut out the glare.

  'It's several miles to the centre of the city. We'll have to take a taxi,' instructed Benedict.

  'Yes, O Master,' she murmured sarcastically under her breath, and trudged after him as he headed purposefully towards the nearest taxi.

  Once they were settled inside, however, and rattling off towards the city, Amy took off her dark glasses and turned to him with new determination.

  'I think that it's time we got a few things straight. I don't mind sharing this taxi with you, but once we reach the city I intend that we should split up. You can find your own hotel and start your own search for Angeline. In fact, it'll be much better if we do things that way,' she went on firmly. 'We can cover twice as much ground if we're working individually.'

  Benedict didn't even answer. That really annoyed her, and she glared at him.

  'Did you hear what I just said?' she demanded loudly.

  'Of course,' he said calmly. 'It would be rather hard not to, when you're yelling right in my ear. But there's no question of us splitting up. I've already booked both of us into the Golden Horn hotel.'

  'You had no right to do that!'

  'It was the obvious thing to do,' he replied, his voice still irritatingly unruffled. 'I was simply following the instructions in Angeline's letter. She told us to book into the Golden Horn hotel, and that's what I've done.'

  'She told me to book into that hotel,' Amy said furiously. 'That letter didn't even mention you!'

  'Then she'll have a surprise when she finds I've turned up.'

  'Well, I hope it's a pleasant surprise,' Amy said meaningfully.

  'I think Angeline will be pleased to see me,' he said with an arrogant confidence that really grated on her nerves.

  Not if Angeline's already found a replacement for you, Amy muttered under her breath. She was careful not to let him hear what she had said, though. She wasn't stupid. And she definitely didn't intend to be around when he met up with Angeline again. She had the feeling that that could turn out to be a very explosive encounter!

  In the meantime, she had to cope with the problem of his staying at the same hotel. Gloomily, she contemplated the prospect. It meant that they would be bumping into each other at meal times. On top of that, he would be watching out for her whenever she left the hotel, and probably even wanting to come with her, in case she led him to Angeline.

  No! Amy decided, with a small shudder. That was not what she wanted. And that meant she had to put a stop to it right now.

  'I'm going to stay at the Golden Horn hotel,' she told him. 'But I want you to find somewhere else to stay.' When he didn't answer, her green eyes began to
darken. 'Why are you ignoring me?' she demanded.

  'I'm simply trying to avoid yet another argument,' he replied, in an unexpectedly weary voice. 'I've made certain arrangements, and I don't intend to alter them in any way, so there doesn't seem much point in discussing the matter any further.'

  But Amy had had just about enough of this. 'You've barged into my life, interfered in my personal affairs, and made arrangements that concern me without even consulting me. Well, this is where it stops! I can't stop you from staying in Istanbul and looking for Angeline, but I don't have to have you hanging round my neck like some bloody great albatross all the time! If you won't move out of the Golden Horn hotel, then I will. I'll find somewhere to stay that's quiet, private, and a long way away from you!'

  His own eyes had taken on an ominous expression, and Amy gave a small, involuntary inner shiver. She had forgotten that this man could be very intimidating when he put his mind to it.

  Benedict twisted round so that he was facing her, and his hands suddenly shot out and gripped her shoulders very hard. Amy winced as his fingers dug into her skin, but refused to look scared or daunted. He wasn't going to browbeat her with sheer physical force.

  He shook her fairly fiercely. Then, still without letting go of her, he loomed nearer so that his dark gaze blazed only inches away from her own.

  'I've had enough of listening to your self-centred babbling,' he said through gritted teeth. 'You obviously don't give a damn about your cousin or what happens to her, but I do. No matter what's happened to her or what sort of trouble or danger she's in, I intend to get her safely back again. Unfortunately, I need your help to do that. But I'm going to make sure that I get that help! I don't much care what I have to do to ensure that you co-operate with me every step of the way, but believe this. You will help me. The only choice you have is whether you do it voluntarily or have to be forced into it. Doing it voluntarily will make it much pleasanter and easier for both of us, but if I have to do it by any other means, then I will. Do you understand me?'

  Amy swallowed very hard. She understood only too clearly! And she realised that she had seriously underestimated this man. She had thought that he was dangerous. Now she knew that he was much more than that.

  'Yes, I understand,' she muttered at last. And, hard though she tried, she couldn't quite keep a betraying tremor out of her voice.

  But he didn't release her. Instead, his grip on her shoulders tightened.

  'And you believe that I'll do whatever I have to do to get results?'

  Oh, yes, she believed him! This time, she couldn't quite get the words out, though. Her throat seemed to have dried up completely. Instead, she gave a jerky nod.

  Yet still he didn't let go of her. 'Tell me which hotel you're going to book into,' he instructed softly.

  'The G—G—' Her voice croaked drily as she tried to stammer out the words.

  'I can't quite hear you,' he prompted relentlessly.

  Oh, she hated this man! she told herself with frustrated fury. No one had ever treated her like this before.

  'The Golden Horn hotel,' she managed to get out at last, almost spitting the words at him.

  At long last, he released the hard grip of his fingers. Amy rubbed her bruised shoulders and glared at him resentfully. 'If you behave like this with Angeline, then I think you're going to have a very short-lived relationship!'

  A strange smile touched the corners of his mouth. 'I behave very differently when I'm with Angeline. But then, she's a very different kind of girl.'

  'She certainly is!' Amy muttered. Perhaps her only consolation in all of this was that Benedict Kane was almost certainly in for a few shocks when he got to know Angeline rather better.

  She stared out of the taxi window. They were rattling through the suburbs of Istanbul now. The streets were narrow, noisy, and packed with people, with the crowds thickening as they drew nearer to the centre of the city. Shops, offices and hotels were crammed close together, and there hardly seemed enough room for the congested streams of traffic trying to force their way through the maze of streets. They seemed to be getting caught up in one giant traffic jam which looked as if it would take the rest of the day and half the night to clear.

  'Can't we go some other way?' Amy said irritably.

  'If you're travelling by car, then you have to stick to the main roads. The side-roads are generally too steep or too narrow to take traffic. Unfortunately, we've hit the rush-hour. If we'd arrived an hour earlier or an hour later, the roads would still have been congested, but not nearly as bad as this.'

  'It would be quicker to walk!'

  'I doubt it,' he said drily.

  Amy had to admit that he was probably right. The pavements were so thronged with people that trying to push through them, especially if you were loaded down with luggage, would be a very slow and frustrating business.

  'How much longer before we reach the hotel?' she grumbled. Her temper still felt extremely frayed, and after everything that had happened she wasn't in the mood even to try to be pleasant to the man sitting beside her.

  'We should be there fairly soon. It's in the old part of the city, near to a lot of the main tourist attractions. The Topkapi Palace, the Blue Mosque, the church of Haghia Sophia and the covered Bazaar are all close by.'

  Amy looked at him with intense dislike. 'I didn't come to Istanbul because I wanted to go sightseeing.' She turned away from him again, pointedly ignoring him as she stared out of the window. Despite what she had said, though, she found her gaze drawn to the tall, slim minarets that shot skywards, and the occasional glimpses of the great domes of the mosques. And there was an exotic pungency in the air—although some people might simply call it a strong smell! she decided wryly. She found herself wishing that she could have come here under very different circumstances. She could have spent several happy days exploring the palaces and mosques, the narrow side-streets with their fascinating shops, and the bazaars, where just about everything under the sun was sold.

  Instead, however, she was probably going to see little more than her hotel-room. She would be here just long enough to bail Angeline out of whatever trouble she was in; then she would have to shoot off back home before her mother sold the entire stock of her shop at such low prices that that it would take weeks for her profits to recover!

  The taxi finally jolted to a halt outside a hotel that was situated down a road that seemed marginally quieter than the main thoroughfare they had just travelled along. Benedict paid the fare, and Amy realised for the first time that she didn't have any Turkish money. Worried about Angeline, and fretting about what would happen to the shop while she was away, there just hadn't been any spare time to think about or plan the trip to Istanbul. This morning, she had just slung some clothes into a bag, grabbed her passport, and left.

  'Do you think the hotel will take credit cards?' she asked, as the taxi roared off in a cloud of exhaust fumes, leaving them standing outside the main entrance.

  'I expect so,' said Benedict. 'But if you've a problem with money, why don't you let me pay for everything?' As her green eyes began to flash warningly, he added, 'I'm not offering to pay for your entire stay. I'm simply suggesting that we put everything on to one bill, and then you can pay me your share when this is all over. It would make things very much easier.'

  'I'm not interested in making things easier,' Amy retorted. 'And I want to pay my own way from the very start.'

  Benedict gave a resigned sigh. 'Then let me pay just for today. In the morning, you can go to the bank and change some money. You can pay all your own bills from then on.'

  'All right,' she agreed grudgingly. She didn't like owing him anything for even one day, but she had to admit that his suggestion made sense.

  He slung his bag over his shoulder, and went to pick up hers. Amy got there first, though.

  'I can manage my own luggage,' she informed him stiffly.

  His eyes went a shade darker. 'You're really going out of your way to make things difficult, ar
en't you?'

  'No one's forcing you to stay,' she reminded him as she lugged her bag through into the hotel foyer. 'You can leave whenever you want.'

  'I'm not going anywhere until I've found Angeline,' he said shortly, a grim expression settling across his face. 'And don't think you can get rid of me by continually being rude to me. It won't work. You've got to have a certain amount of feeling for someone to let them get to you. And I don't have any feelings about you at all.'

  With that stinging remark, he walked over to the reception desk to book them in. Amy didn't follow him. Instead, she stood in one corner of the foyer feeling oddly shaken.

  Of course, she didn't care that he had openly admitted to being completely indifferent towards her. She preferred it that way, she told herself with some determination. All the same, it wasn't very nice to hear someone say something like that to your face, even if it were Benedict Kane who had said it.

  By the time he came back to her, she had got herself back under some kind of control. She arranged a stiff, cold expression on her face, and made no effort to smile even half-heartedly at him as he approached her.

  'I've booked us in,' he said shortly, apparently as disinclined as she was to bother with even basic politeness. 'Let's go up.'

  'Why did Angeline tell me to book into this hotel?' asked Amy with a frown, as they went towards the lift. 'Did she have a room here? Is she still here?'

  Benedict briefly shook his head. 'I made enquiries at the reception desk. Angeline has never stayed here.'

  As they got into the lift, Amy gave a frustrated sigh. 'None of this makes any sense. Why on earth couldn't Angeline have said more in her letter? She might at least have given me some clue as to what this is all about.'

  'I've already told you what I think,' he reminded her, a rather grim note returning to his voice. 'I don't think she was allowed to say anything more in that letter.'

  'Oh, your kidnapping theory,' she said dismissively. 'That's a non-starter, as far as I'm concerned.'

  'Why?'

  'Because things like that simply don't happen to people like us. And I don't buy that story about someone grabbing Angeline instead of me, either. We really don't look alike. It's very easy to tell us apart.'