Claimed by the Wealthy Magnate

by Nina Milne

  She flinched away from him, backed up a step.

  ‘I’ll get you out of here. No problem. I’ll keep you safe. No need to panic.’

  The words came automatically and he was careful to keep his hands by his sides, sensing she had to come of her own choice. In the meantime he stepped in front of her, blocked her view of the man and hoped the group wouldn’t approach.

  ‘Let’s walk. Easy does it.’

  Kaitlin hesitated and he saw her eyes refocus, gaze up at the ceiling and then around her, before ending up riveted to his face. She puffed out a small sigh and started to walk.

  The pace she set was a half-march, her usual poise ragged, hands clenching and unclenching as they stepped out into the early dusk. Casting a glance over her shoulder, another into the shadows, she increased speed.

  After five minutes Daniel decided they had put enough distance between themselves and whatever or whoever had spooked her with such radical effect.

  ‘Kaitlin—stop. Or at least tell me where you want to go.’

  ‘Home.’ A half-laugh. ‘The hotel, I suppose. I need to be somewhere safe.’

  ‘You are.’ Without thought he turned and halted in front of her, and took her hands in his. ‘Whilst you are with me you are safe. I will not let any harm come to you.’

  A tug of her hands as she shook her head. ‘Those are words, Daniel. Anyone can use words to manipulate, to lie...’

  ‘Or to tell the truth. And that is what I am doing. You are safe. Right here, right now. If you want to go back to the hotel then that’s where we will go, but we don’t need to run there. If you want to stay out we can, and you will be safe. Trust me.’

  Her breathing slowed as she met his gaze and he could almost see the cogs and wheels whirring in her brain.

  * * *

  Trust him. Kaitlin tried to think past the glut of emotions that clogged her brain. Logic told her to return pronto to the hotel, shut herself in her room and calm down. A deeper instinct wanted to stay with Daniel—to recapture the confidence and the freedom of earlier, to have a night in Venice. Shades of the past, of Barcelona...

  No. This was different—she wasn’t faking her identity and Daniel was no longer a stranger.

  Her heart-rate thudded back to as near to normal as possible when he was this close and she made her decision. Maybe she’d regret it—most likely she would—but... ‘I’d like to stay out.’

  A squeeze of her hands and then he released one and retained the other in a clasp of reassurance. ‘How does a night at a jazz club sound?’

  ‘Perfect.’ Once again warmth touched her at the way he seemed able to read her needs—a jazz club was far less likely to trigger panic than a standing-room-only bar packed with people, and the music would help.

  For the journey there she simply followed Daniel, didn’t so much as give any protest a thought when he clasped her hand in his because it felt right. The fear triggered in the scuola had abated, but her nerves were still frayed and memories danced in grotesque shadows at the back of her mind.

  But the memories were held at bay by Daniel’s presence, by both the reassurance and the thrill his touch bestowed.

  The club itself was everything she could have wished for—both quirky and eclectic enough to push the past further away. Vibrantly painted walls were offset by dim illumination, the club’s love of jazz clear in its themed memorabilia, a homage to artists past and present.

  The proprietor showed them to a candlelit bistro-type table, secluded by the width of a Gothic column, and the tension drained from her body as she watched the band tune up, ate a selection of cold meat and cheese and bread, and listened to the notes jump and dance on the air, rebounding into her brain with a cleansing beat.

  Then Daniel leant forward. ‘Better?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So what happened back there? Did you know that man?’

  Reluctance to answer pressed her lips together, and then common sense prevailed. Daniel had made her a promise to keep her safe—he couldn’t do that without facts.

  ‘No. He reminded me of someone from my past and I went into panic freefall.’

  With an effort she kept her tone light, tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, focused on the tang of wine on her tongue.

  ‘You can talk about it if you want. Maybe I’m a good choice, because after tomorrow our paths won’t cross again.’

  The words caused her an unexpected wince of hurt, a fluttery sensation in her chest, and for a second she would swear there was sadness in the twist of his lips.

  Daft.

  Daniel Harrington was no good for her—time spent with him seemed to have somehow frayed her entire Lady Kaitlin persona around the edges. Worse, she wasn’t sure she cared. Because he was a good man—good enough that she was sorely tempted to take him at his word. To tell him about the incident that had changed her whole life’s path, intrinsically altered her from the inside out.

  But to do that she would have to take trust a whole skyscraper further.

  He picked his drink up and lifted his broad shoulders. ‘I understand if you can’t trust me enough. That is a decision only you can make.’

  As she picked up an olive and took a small bite she remembered what he had told her of his family—information she knew was personal to him. She remembered that he hadn’t gone public with Barcelona, remembered how he had helped her these past days, allowed her a chance to experience Venice in a way that would have been impossible otherwise. She recalled how he had been in Scotland, with the teenagers. If she couldn’t trust this man, who had such a sense of integrity, then all her remaining belief in human nature would shatter.

  ‘I do trust you enough,’ she said quietly. ‘And I appreciate your offer to listen—maybe it will help.’

  She swirled her drink round the glass, gazed down into it, unable to face him, to see his expression when she told him.

  ‘Hey. Look at me. Whatever you tell me I will respect your confidence. And I won’t judge you and I won’t pity you.’ Leaning over the table, he placed a gentle finger under her chin. ‘I promise.’

  Drawing in a shaky breath, she closed her eyes. Then opened them and forced herself to look into the deep blue depths of his.

  ‘When I was thirteen I was kidnapped. I wanted to go to a concert and my parents said no. One of the staff, Natalie, offered to help me—I trusted her, and she helped sneak me out of the manor. Turned out it was all a plan to kidnap me.’

  Daniel sat very still, but she could sense the anger that emanated from him, saw his hands clench into purposeful fists. ‘You must have been terrified.’

  ‘It took me a while to truly comprehend what was happening. To this day I don’t know where they held me—but I was there for ten days whilst they negotiated with my parents. The longer it went on, the more frustrated they got and the worse it was for me. Especially after I tried and nearly managed to escape.’

  Kaitlin couldn’t contain the shudder.

  ‘Did they hurt you?’

  Now there was no mistaking his anger, and that fury made her feel protected in a way she never had before. Her parents’ anger had been directed at her, not at the kidnappers. The blame had been handed to her and she’d borne it for the past fourteen years.

  ‘They threatened me. Natalie told them about my fear of water and they exploited that. Held me under in the bath. They also—’

  Her voice broke as memories crowded in. The taste of sheer humiliation, the clammy sheen of bone-deep terror at the realisation of her powerlessness and her kidnappers’ strength.

  ‘They made me pose for photographs—threatened my parents that they would release them.’

  ‘Oh, hell, Kaitlin. If I could get my hands on them I swear to you I’d make them pay.’

  He rose and moved round the s
ecluded table, sat next to her so he shielded her from anyone’s view.

  ‘I’m OK. It happened in the past. I was shaken today because that bearded man reminded me of one of the men who held me. Mostly I face forward.’

  ‘You can’t face forward if the demons are constantly at your back. First you have to deal with them.’

  As she saw the determination on his face she wondered if he had dealt with whatever demons lay behind him. ‘I have dealt with them. For the most part.’

  ‘By yourself. I still don’t understand why your parents didn’t get you some help?’

  ‘They couldn’t risk the publicity—they were terrified of what the kidnappers would do with those photographs, and they were furious with me. If I hadn’t sneaked out to go to that concert the whole situation wouldn’t have arisen. It cost them a lot of money to get me back.’

  Hearing the bitterness in her own words, she shook her head.

  ‘No. That makes them sound terrible. Of course they were glad to have me back in one piece. But as far as they were concerned I’d messed up, there had been terrible consequences, but they had sorted it out and we all needed to put it behind us and move on.’

  ‘But they must have realised the experience had traumatised you—would traumatise anyone.’

  ‘No, they didn’t. They didn’t want to talk about it, forbade me to tell anyone, ever, and that was that. So I figured out how to deal with it myself. As I got older I did some research into panic attacks and I have worked out various strategies for how to deal with it.’

  Strategies that had worked just fine until Daniel had entered her orbit.

  ‘So here I am.’

  ‘Here you are and here’s to you, Kaitlin.’ He held up his glass. ‘To your strength and determination.’

  Shyness mingled with appreciation of his words and brought heat to her cheeks. ‘Thank you. And thank you for listening.’

  Sharing the experience that had clouded her life for so long had drained her, and yet it had also brought her a strange feeling of peace.

  ‘Now, I’m ready to go back to the hotel—if that’s OK with you?’

  ‘Of course it is.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THEY WALKED BACK to the hotel in a silence that held comfort and an inevitable closeness. Daniel walked close to her, felt a surge of protectiveness towards this woman who was so much more than he could have imagined. The idea of what she had gone through fuelled anger inside him—at the staff member who had betrayed a young girl’s trust, at the kidnappers themselves, and at the Duke and Duchess for their reactions. For allowing their daughter to take the blame for an atrocity perpetrated by others, for not giving her any help or sympathy or understanding.

  ‘It’s all right.’ Kaitlin looked up at him, her face illuminated in the moonlight. ‘I’m OK. I didn’t tell you what I told you because I want you to be angry on my behalf. It’s done.’

  ‘Hey... You aren’t meant to be comforting me!’

  ‘I’m not. If I’m honest, I like it that you’re angry on my behalf, because no one else ever has been. But I don’t want your blood pressure to skyrocket whilst you brood on it.’

  ‘It just makes me mad that they got away with it—that they are out there somewhere.’

  ‘I have to believe that what goes around comes around—that karma will take care of them.’ She moved a little closer to him. ‘But now I think we should be enjoying Venice by moonlight.’

  As they walked the magic of Venice seemed to swirl around them—the majesty of the darkened streets swathed in moonlight, the occasional sound of oars on the canal breaking the stillness alongside the laughter of a late-night reveller. And subtly the atmosphere changed. Daniel’s anger faded away and the balm of the evening breeze, the rose scent she emanated, seemed to cast a spell he knew he should try and dispel.

  But he couldn’t. As they approached St Mark’s Square—now nigh on deserted, vast and truly breathtaking in its illuminated splendour—it wasn’t possible not to turn and pull her into his arms.

  And as if Kaitlin felt exactly the same way—as if she too had been imbued by the same magical allure—she stood on tiptoe, her green eyes wide with wonder as she touched her lips to his.

  That was all he had meant it to be—a brush of the lips—but her closeness, the warmth of her body, the taste of her lips, spun him into a vortex of desire and he deepened the kiss.

  Kaitlin gave a small moan as her lips parted and he was lost. He tightened his arms around her, gathered her body flush against his. Need jolted his body as she twined her arms around his neck and whispered his name. Time lost all meaning as passion captivated them in an embrace that rocked his body and consumed his mind.

  Until finally some small fragment of sense pervaded the enchantment, reminded him of who she was and gently he pulled away.

  They stared at each other for a long moment, their ragged breaths mingling in the air.

  Eventually she looked around and let out a sigh. ‘We must have been mad, but right now I don’t care.’

  Her lips turned up in a smile so beautiful his breath caught.

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘That’s up to you.’ However much he wanted her, the decision had to be hers.

  Her step was sure as she moved towards him. ‘We have one more night—I want to make the most of it. Of this.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure. It’s a risk worth taking. If the reporters find out, so be it. I want this night. With you. If that’s what you want too.’

  ‘It is exactly what I want.’

  A small, breathless laugh dropped from her lips. ‘Then let’s go.’

  The short walk back to their hotel was achieved at a half-run, his urge to hold her hand restrained only by the knowledge that there was a chance that reporters and guests for the ball the following night might already have arrived.

  As they approached Kaitlin slowed, and he could almost see her morph into the persona of Lady Kaitlin Derwent. He wondered whether that had been another defence mechanism against the after-effects of the kidnap.

  They entered the hotel, where Roberto awaited them, discussed the ball and their plans for the following day without even a hint of impatience, and then finally made their way across the lobby to an elevator that began an excruciatingly slow ascent.

  Finally—finally—they reached the suite, entered and closed the door behind them.

  ‘Now, where were we...?’ he asked.

  Stepping forward into his arms, she gave a slow smile. ‘I think we left off about here. But we can make it even better if we move to the bedroom.’

  ‘Your wish is my command.’

  With that he scooped her into his arms and headed for the bed.

  * * *

  Kaitlin opened her eyes and for a second a tendril of panic coiled in her tummy. Then she remembered exactly where she was. The weight of Daniel’s arm cocooned her and she shifted gently on the sumptuous smooth silk of the sheet. In repose he looked younger, one lock of dark hair curled on his forehead, the craggy strength of his features slightly softened by sleep.

  She waited for regret to consume her but realised that in truth she repented nothing; she couldn’t feel any remorse over the beauty of the past few hours. The passion and the laughter and the sheer pleasure—it had been a night that she would treasure the memories of for ever.

  As for sharing her past with him... There was no regret over that either—no shadow of doubt that she could trust him to keep her confidence. She trusted him.

  The realisation was shocking in its simplicity, terrifying in its complexity. Because she had broken a cardinal Lady Kaitlin rule.

  Unfamiliar emotion crept up her veins, coursed through her body with unidentifiable sensations as she gazed at Daniel. Joy mingled wit
h a yearning to lie down again in the safety of his arms, to wake him up and make love. To make him breakfast, to spend the day walking the streets of Venice hand in hand...

  A new type of panic sparked and morphed into dread and disbelief.

  What was she doing? Weaving a fantasy out of an illusion? The reality was that the night was over and so was her time with Daniel. It was time to assume Lady Kaitlin Derwent’s mantle and get back to her routine—the life she had so carefully and painstakingly built up. She could not, would not let that crumble, and she would not, could not fall in love with Daniel Harrington.

  Daniel opened his eyes and met her gaze sleepily. ‘Morning.’

  ‘Good morning.’

  Surprise banished sleep and a small frown creased his forehead. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing is wrong.’

  Everything was wrong, and her brain threatened to short-circuit as emotions overloaded it. The primary emotion was horror at her body’s treachery. She had never meant to fall in love—this was meant to have been an interlude, time outside time, the opportunity to experience physical attraction. Not this crazy freefall. She had to get out of here before it took hold. Before she did something super-crazy.

  Before he figured it out.

  From somewhere she summoned reserves of pride—the idea of discovery was a humiliation impossible to contemplate. So she had to dig deep and locate Lady Kaitlin—who disdained love as a messy, unpleasant, unnecessary component to life and relationships.

  Play the part. Image is everything.

  Holding the sheet to her, she leant over in a desperate bid to find at least her bra and knickers.

  ‘I’ve woken up with my head buzzing with all the things we need to get done for the ball. Plus I need to get back to my room and make sure it looks like I slept there.’

  Finally her fingers found her bra, and somehow she wriggled into it whilst shielding herself as best she could with the sheet.

  ‘Kaitlin.’

  Don’t look at him.

  If she could just make it to the sanctuary of her room she would be able to get herself together.