Read Online The Abducted Heart (Sweetly Contemporary Collection) by Jennifer Blake - Free Book Online Page B

chair in green leather, a dictating machine, typewriter, and double row of file cabinets. There were bookshelves stretching to the ceiling with the bright covers of American editions among the somber leather-bound volumes. On the wall facing the door was a mural in vivid turquoise, cream, black tan, and terra-cotta. Seated at the desk in front of the colorful painting, Señor Castillo seemed almost a part of the parade of bronze Aztec warriors depicted in a geometric swirl of ancient symbols amid the small figures of houses, horses, scorpions, and angels.
    “So,” he said, tossing aside a sheaf of papers and waving her to a chair, “you did not run away.”
    “No,” she replied when it seemed he expected her to comment.
    “They were so long in finding you that I was beginning to think you had taken fright and run screaming to the American embassy.”
    The suggestion was not very flattering. Her voice was cool as she answered, “As you can see, I am still here.”
    He was silent, as if waiting for her explanation for keeping him waiting. Remembering Doña Isabel’s admonition that it would be unwise to let him know they had been talking, she was just as silent. She even felt a perverse satisfaction in thwarting him. It was short-lived, however.
    “I hope,” he said at last, “that you have been using the time to reconsider your answer to my offer.”
    Now was the time to agree. Here was the opportunity. “I have been thinking about it, yes.”
    “Conclusively?”
    When she did not answer at once, a grim expression appeared about his mouth. Before she could frame reply, he spoke again.
    “I have tried persuasion. I have tried bribery. I think now the time has come to use blackmail.”
    The words of acquiescence she had been about to speak left her. “Meaning?” she asked in a voice that sounded thin to her own ears.
    “The catering firm of Metcalf’s is a fine organization, but a small one. I wonder what the effect would be upon its finances if I were to withdraw my account?”
    Anne stared at him. “You wouldn’t.”
    “You think not? There is one way to be certain that I do not.”
    “I thought you were a man of — of honor,” she said slowly.
    The blood receded from his face. There was a dark glitter in his eyes and his voice was soft as he answered. “Instead, you find that I am a man who likes to have his own way. You would do well to remember it.”
    “I will try,” she said, “since it seems I must. I will do as you ask, but only for two weeks. After that, you will have to make some other arrangement.”
    “We will see,” was his only reply to her ultimatum. It was not completely satisfactory.
    Possibly her quick agreement took him by surprise, for he seemed at something of a loss, drumming his fingers on the desk, staring hard at a leather-encased calendar before turning his attention back to her.
    “Would you like to see about the time away from Metcalf’s or shall I?” he asked abruptly.
    “If you don’t mind, I would like to speak to Iva Metcalf personally.”
    “Why should I mind?” he said irritably. “I presume you would like to discuss your wardrobe with this roommate of yours also, though it would be more economical, probably, to buy what you need here. However, I will leave that to you. The telephone is at your disposal. Also, Pedro, my secretary, will be available this morning if you need to make some arrangement to fly your baggage here — anything else will be too slow to be helpful. You will need summer-weight clothing, remember, and evening wear.”
    “Evening wear?” she queried in surprise. The only thing suitable for evening in her closet at home was a long velvet skirt she had bought on impulse at a sale and never worn.
    “Don’t trouble yourself over it,” he said, making a note at the same time on a pad before him. “Is there anything else you would like to know?”
    “You intend to make this engagement public?” Something Doña Isabel had said had