“Does telepathy run in your family?” She wanted him to think only of that ability and no other. She kept herself strictly under control, not giving in to fear when she wanted to raise her arms to the wind and use the force of it to gain freedom.
“Don’t talk about that in front of anyone,” he hissed, still smiling. “This is for us alone.
Another bid to join them together. She recognized manipulation when she saw it. At least he was still trying to be charming to gain compliance rather than forcing it. She nodded her head, unwilling to try to fight a losing battle. She’d much rather wait and see what Stavros wanted from her. Maybe she could collect information that Dane would find helpful—if she managed to make it out alive.
The door was opened by a matronly woman who managed to look right through Elle as if she wasn’t there. “This is Drusilla. She’s our housekeeper,” Stavros introduced. “Without her we’d all be lost.”
Drusilla beamed and smiled a welcome to Stavros while she nodded a little warily at Elle. Elle stepped inside the enormous multilevel glass-walled room. “This is beautiful, Stavros.”
“I’m glad you like it, as it will be your home.”
Elle heard Drusilla’s swift intake of breath and Stavros immediately sent her a glaring reprimand. Elle forced herself to step farther into the room, looking around her. The view was breathtaking, the most incredible she’d ever seen. The bedroom was enormous, with the bed on a platform close to the glass wall overlooking the sea. Several steps down took her to a sitting area with plush, comfortable chairs and a table off to the side, but she noticed that there seemed to a pulley system of some sort overhead. Her heart began to pound. It was an amazing silken cage, a prison beyond her wildest dreams.
She allowed Stavros to lead her through the long, starkly beautiful room and up the wide staircase to a large bedroom. He pushed open the door and gestured toward the four-poster bed. “This will be your room. Mine is just down the hall.”
Someone had already placed Elle’s small overnight bag on the bed. It looked ridiculous in the rich opulence of the room.
“Stavros, wait.” Elle caught his arm. “I really can’t stay. I have an appointment this afternoon and I can’t be late.”
“You’re going to stay, Sheena, and you’re going to have my babies. I’ve been looking for a woman like you for years. I’m not about to let you slip away now.” He pushed her farther into the room and glanced at his watch. “You are to stay here in this room until I come for you. The door will be locked, Sheena, and you are to stay.”
There was no missing the iron in his voice, or the warning. Elle stood very still in the center of the room. He was showing his hand now, blatantly letting her know that not only had he kidnapped her, but that he expected total cooperation. She said nothing as he closed the door, waited to move until she heard the lock snick into place.
Elle opened her bag only to find it empty. Someone had already unpacked her things and put them away. After a brief search, she found her clothes neatly hanging in the spacious, walk-in closet. Elle stripped off her gown and changed into a pair of slim cotton pants and a snug cotton tee. She only took minutes to braid her waist-length hair and pull on her climbing shoes before going to the window.
Below her room, large boulders and rocks formed the cliffs that led to the dazzling sea. Ordinarily the sight would have soothed her, but the way the house hung out over the ocean made climbing dangerous. The window was wired for security, which was interesting to her. She could open the window but an alarm would trigger if she so much as stuck her arm out. With the way the house was built, it was nearly impossible for anyone to break in. So was he keeping women prisoner here at his whim? Had he brought others here?
Elle studied the room carefully, gliding her palm over the walls and bed, seeking psychic energy left behind by any others. She felt nothing at all but that faint, annoying buzzing in her head. As far as she could tell, only the housekeeper had been in her room. Now that she was alone, she needed to send a message home and let them know where she was.
She opened the window and inhaled the sea and salt. The moment the salty mist touched her face she felt better, lighter, more hopeful. Elle lifted her arms and called the wind. Pain crashed through her head. She barely managed to suppress the cry welling up as stars burst behind her eyes and everything around her swirled black. She bent, retching, gagging, staggering toward the bed, pressing both hands to her pounding head.
Stavros was psychic and he had somehow managed to deploy some kind of energy field to prevent psychic energy from being used. Feeling weak, she slid her back down the wall and put her head between her legs, breathing deep to keep from fainting. She wasn’t going to be able to summon help until she was off the island or could find the source of the energy field.
Once she could breathe again, she rose unsteadily and dealt with the security, a small beam she redirected so she could slip through the window and cling like a spider to the side of the glass villa. And spiders were much better at clinging to glass than she was. She had to find tiny indentations on each panel with fingers and toes, much like climbing the seemingly sheer cliff faces she often practiced on.
Elle clung to the edge, reaching with her toes, wishing she was at least another inch taller as she tried to gain the roof. For several heart-stopping moments she found herself staring down at the rocks and sea a good hundred feet below her, afraid she couldn’t reach and would fall. She studied the distance above her. She would have to lever her body up, using the power of her legs to catch the edge. One chance. That was all she’d have—and she was going to take it.
Burning Wild Page 43