Read Online Dark Ransom by Sara Craven - Free Book Online

Santana was the black sheep of
    his family, and was living in this splendid isolation by popular
    request.
    What a wonderful prospect for a husband, she thought, moving
    restively. To her annoyance, the towel slipped as she did so, sliding
    down over her small breasts, and she made a hasty readjustment,
    aware of his swift, flickering glance.
    He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, and she shrank inside,
    thinking he was going to come across to the bed.
    'I'll leave you to rest now, and think over what I have said,' he
    remarked instead to her relief. 'Perhaps you would let Rosita know
    when it will be convenient to move my things. She would not wish
    to disturb you.'
    'Move?' Charlie stared at him. 'I don't understand.'
    'As my future wife, you are to be treated with all respect.' His smile
    was sardonic. 'It is.. .expected. Therefore, until our marriage I shall
    occupy another room.'
    'That's very considerate,' she said tautly. 'But isn't it a little late?'
    'Not,' he said coolly, 'in the eyes of my family, or those who work
    for us. Why cause needless offence?'
    'Oh, why indeed?' she said bitterly.
    'Besides,' the dark face was expressionless, 'I did not flatter myself
    that you were eager to share my bed again.'
    'I'm not, believe me.' Charlie spoke with clipped emphasis, then
    paused. 'If the maids are moving your clothes they can return mine
    at the same time.'
    He frowned. 'Do you mean the garments you arrived in? I doubt
    whether they still exist.'
    'You mean you've had them thrown away?' She glared at him. 'My
    God, I don't believe it...'
    'Why not? They were not particularly attractive, or even
    appropriate.' Riago da Santana shrugged. 'Until I can make other
    arrangements you may continue to make a choice from those.' He
    gestured in the direction of the guarda-roupa.
    'I'll do no such thing.' Charlie sat up furiously, again to the detriment
    of the towel.
    'Then stay as you are.' This time he allowed himself a more leisurely
    inspection as she struggled to cover herself. He grinned at her,
    amusement mingling disturbingly with sensuous appraisal. 'After
    all, Carlotta, dressed or undressed, you are going nowhere.'
    He allowed the words to sink in, made her a slight, mocking bow,
    then strode out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
    Going nowhere. It was impossible to relax—let alone think
    practically and coherently—with that ringing in her head. After an
    hour she got up, picked the simplest bra and briefs she could find in
    the frankly exotic collection on offer, and mutinously zipped herself
    back into the cornflower dress.
    She decided to think about the clothes in the guarda-roupa as a
    form of stage costume- something she was forced to assume for the
    part she had to play.
    But she would have to find something altogether more substantial
    and robust to wear if she was going to make a run for it, she decided
    uneasily. Strong boots, for instance, were a necessity. Her skin
    crawled as she thought of all the creeping and scuttling horrors
    waiting in the undergrowth—insects, spiders and scorpions whose
    bite or sting could bring death within a few short hours. And she
    didn't even want to contemplate the snakes.
    Oh, God, why did I ever come here? she asked herself frantically.
    Sonia's gibe about touring the European capitals suddenly sounded
    like plain common sense.
    As soon as she emerged from the bedroom Rosita appeared and
    swept her kindly but firmly to the dining-room. The scent of coffee
    hung in the air, and there was freshly baked bread, Charlie saw, and
    a dish of sliced pineapple and mango. She hadn't felt particularly
    hungry, but now her mouth was watering, and she found herself
    attacking the food as if it were the last meal she would ever eat.
    Rosita poured the coffee and hung around solicitously, pressing
    Charlie to finish the last crumb of the last crisp roll. Charlie was
    made to understand she was too thin.
    Clearly Rosita was remembering her days as a nursemaid