The Russian's Tender Lover (The Sisterhood) (5 page)

As the man came closer, her shaking increased. There was no one else around, no one to hear her if she called out for help. In the past, the fear had always been that someone would try and kidnap her as she was coming or going from a party or nightclub so she’d worked in extra precautions to guard against that kind of threat. But what was she supposed to do when it wasn’t the arrival or departure from a party, but the lack of a party completely that was the threat?

“My apologies for not being here to meet you as you landed,” the man’s deep, only slightly accented voice said as he came closer, extending his hand to shake hers. “Welcome to my home.”

Darcy extended her hand automatically and her freezing cold fingers were enveloped by warm, very strong hands that held hers for a bit longer than she was comfortable with. And she really didn’t like the way this man was staring at her. Or the heat that was creeping up her arms from his hands. Or the blush that stole over her cheeks as he stared at her.

“Am I early for the festivities?” she asked carefully.

The tall man smiled politely and tucked her hand into his elbow, guiding her down the rock pathway. “I’m afraid there is not going to be a party this weekend, my dear.”

His words, spoken so softly, were the beginning of every woman’s nightmare. “Excuse me? Can you explain why I’m here then?”

“You have interfered with the affections of someone I love. Therefore, you must be removed from the situation until it is resolved. A simple matter I expect to be cleared up in only a few days,” he explained.

Darcy could feel the terror welling up inside her chest. She was being led deeper and deeper into the vegetation which enclosed them even overhead so she could no longer see the house, nor the helipad. She heard something in the underbrush and jumped, then jumped away as she realized that she was moving closer to the man she now suspected was going to kill her.

“I’m sorry if I’ve done something to anger you, sir. But I assure you if you would tell me what’s happened, I’d be more than happy to assist you in resolving the problem.” Where she gained the courage to speak so politely, so civilly, she had no idea.

A few more steps on the pathway and the house reappeared. The man led her into a stunningly gorgeous living room with massive Palladian windows that gave a spectacular view of the ocean on the opposite side of the island.

“If only it were so simple, I would appreciate your offer. But you see, you’ve created this situation from your own selfish actions, and therefore, I don’t trust you to resolve it to my satisfaction.”

Once in the room, he released her hand and walked more brusquely over to a bar. “Wine?” he asked.

Darcy hesitated. She had an image to project and she didn’t feel safe in any way. Her bar tender definitely was not here so she couldn’t have her “martinis” fixed properly. She could accept the wine and continue with the façade of her nightclub life, or she could drop the façade.

Since she had no idea who this man was, she didn’t feel safe enough to let him know the real self behind the mask. “Wine would be lovely,” she replied instead of asking for a lemonade or something equally benign. “Thank you for the offer.” Was this her last meal? Was he lulling her into a false sense of security only to torture her later?

“Can you explain what’s going on?”

He poured himself a glass of amber liquid, then carried both glasses in her direction, handing her the wine glass.

“It’s very simple. My sister’s fiancé has proclaimed to be in love with you. Since my sister wants him back, I am obliged to find the weasel and bring her back to her side. You, my dear, must be out of the picture for that to happen.”

She swallowed painfully, ignoring the glass of wine in her freezing hands and looked up at the man’s cold, brown eyes. “Are you going to kill me?” she whispered, saying the words that her mind was chanting, desperate to know her fate.

Sergei looked down at the woman who was painfully thin but strikingly lovely with her lush brown hair and porcelain skin, her fascinating sage green eyes staring up at him with terror shining from their lovely depths. He couldn’t help but laugh when she asked that question because it had never occurred to him that this whole scene might be perceived in that light. His only response was to throw back his head and laugh deeply, enjoying the release of tension the laughter generated. He laughed so hard, he actually had to lean over the chair to hold himself up, doubled over with the amusement.

When he was finally able to regain his composure, he straightened and looked down at the beauty, amusement still shimmering in his eyes. “No, my dear. I don’t plan on killing you, raping you or torturing you. In fact, you are here as my guests so please enjoy the house at your leisure for as long as it takes to resolve this issue.”

Darcy’s breath came out in a whoosh and she couldn’t believe how relieved she was. Her legs were actually weak from the release of fear and she leaned back against the arm of the sofa behind her. “Goodness, sir, that was a horrible thing to do.”

“Well, perhaps you watch a few too many crime shows on television?” he teased.

Darcy chuckled and shook her head. “Mystery novels,” she replied.

“Ah, I stand corrected. And those might be a bit worse, don’t you think?” he asked, still amused by the idea of what had been going through her mind. “Authors don’t have the same censorship rules by which television studios are hindered.”

“You’re correct. Maybe a few romance novels and poetry is in my future,” she replied, laughing a bit herself now. “But regardless, I’m afraid that I can’t stay here until you’ve resolved the situation. If you’ll just recall the helicopter, I’d like to be on my way. The money from the contract will be returned as soon as I make the call to my agent.”

He was already shaking his head before she’d finished speaking. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. I have investigators searching for the missing fiancé now, but until this is fixed and he’s been appropriately contrite to his future wife, as well as to me, you must stay out of the way.”

She heard the words, but couldn’t believe this man was really going to hold her here on his private island against her will. It was too macabre to accept. “That’s crazy!” she cried out. “You can’t just kidnap me because your sister can’t keep her boyfriend in line.”

“Ah, but you see, I just did.” He started walking away as she stood there sputtering.

“”Where are you going?” she demanded to his retreating back.

“I have work to do.”

“What about my work?”

He stopped and turned around. “I guess the male population will simply have to do without your lovely smiles for a while, won’t they?”

The words were harsh enough, but when his eyes went from her head to her toes, and obviously found the package lacking, she felt as if her stomach were dropping out of her body. Darcy wished she had some pithy comeback, but she just stood there, completely shocked at both his attitude and his words.

When she was alone, she looked around but didn’t really see anything. So stunned from that man’s resolution and insult, she could barely think. She stomped back and forth a few times, then looked down at the ridiculously high heels she’d strapped on only moments before the helicopter had picked her up. Her feet were already aching so she reached down and pulled them off, viciously throwing them across the room. They landed somewhere near the sofa by the window, only to skid underneath a heavy piece of furniture, now lost to her unless she wanted to deal with the indignity of crawling under the large sofa to get them back.

Darcy was livid. Pulling out her cell phone, she turned it on and waited for the signal to catch. No one was going to kidnap her! She had developed solutions to just this situation, although most of her contingency plans were for city problems.

She waited another few seconds, then realized that there was no cell phone reception in the room. Stomping outside in her bare feet, she searched around, raising her cell phone in an effort to find some sort of reception.

Nothing! Not even on the other side of the house, down by the beach or in any of the areas she trudged through along the pathways. After an hour, she was tired, hungry and her feet were seriously hurt from all the sharp rocks she’d stepped on along the pathway. And she laid all of her complaints at the feet of that horrible man who had kidnapped her on this island, ignoring her own part in accepting a contract with an unknown man in a location she hadn’t properly researched, all because the amount of money being offered was enough for her to take a break for the next six months, allowing her to dedicate all of her time to the animals on her farm.

“This is ridiculous!” she said to the trees as she made her way back to the house, cursing as her tender foot stepped on yet another hard stone.

As soon as she stepped back into the house, a servant approached her, bowing slightly. “If you would care to freshen up prior to dinner, I will be happy to show you to your rooms,” he said with a Jamaican style accent.

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “I’d like to know exactly where I am, please,” she said with every ounce of civility she could muster under the circumstances. But even she knew that the request wasn’t very polite since it came out as more of a growl than a request.

“We are on Solonge Island,” he explained, bowing slightly once again.

“And where, exactly, is Solonge Island in the greater world?”

“We are in the Caribbean, with the wonderful winds that cool us down. This way to your room,” he said and started walking away.

Darcy was left standing by the open doors, realizing that she could either follow and try and learn more, or stand here in the living room doorway looking like an idiot. She chose potential information rather than idiocy.

The man was already about to turn the corner on another long hallway so she had to run to catch up with him, not a pleasant experience on her already tender feet and the skimpy dress she was wearing.

She caught up to the man just as he was opening up a set of double doors, which opened to a lovely room done in white, soft blue and creamy yellow. The four poster bed was high with one of those little wooden stairs at the side, and the top of the bed was filled with fluffy pillows of different sizes. At first sight, Darcy’s inclination was to dive into the pillows and snuggle down for a long nap, but she knew she’d better figure out what was going on first.

“Can you tell me where in the Caribbean we are?” she asked.

The man moved to another set of doors which opened into a lovely white marble bathroom with large windows overlooking the ocean. “We are approximately ninety miles north of Aruba on Mr. Anchova’s private island. The dining room is back down the hallway we just came from and to the left instead of to the right where we originally were. There is a pool on the south side of the house with towels and sunscreen and if you require anything else, please feel free to ask any of the other servants in the area. The cook’s name is Adele and she will be serving dinner at seven o’clock but if you would prefer something in your rooms, please just dial the kitchen and request anything you’d like. Breakfast is normally served by the pool, but again, if you would prefer breakfast in bed, we will oblige. We all hope your stay with us is enjoyable.”

Darcy almost screamed at the man’s obtuse answers. “Are you kidding? You do realize that I’m here against my will. I’ve basically been kidnapped by your employer.”

He bowed once again and with a benevolent smile replied, “I will convey your displeasure to Mr. Anchova, Miss.” Without another word, he left the room, closing the doors behind him.

Darcy looked around, furious at being detained this way. And disgusted with herself for letting herself be tricked into coming here because of a large amount of money. She couldn’t wait to find a way to call home and get someone to get her out of here. With that in mind, she stomped over to the closets, throwing open all the doors until she found her small suitcase. It only held a pair of jeans and a tee shirt but she didn’t care. She wanted to be out of this dress and more comfortable while she figured out a way to get home. The only other items in her bag were her make up remover and some books she’d brought, although the flight had been longer than she’d expected so she’d already finished one of the two she’d packed.

Once she’d slipped her sneakers on over her thick, comfortable sox and she was in her well worn jeans and soft cotton tee-shirt, she left the room, vowing to investigate this entire island until she found some way to get herself home.

Two hours later, she was getting a bit desperate. She was hot, sweaty, dirty from climbing hills and stumbling down the other side. She had several scrapes on her hands from rocks she’d used to try and stop her fall in some cases and thankfully the jeans she’d pulled on protected her legs more than the tee shirt had done. She was desperately thirsty and famished since she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning and the sun was now setting over the horizon.

What was worse, she felt as if she were about to burst into tears of despair and frustration. There didn’t appear to be any way off this island other than by helicopter but that couldn’t be the case. There was a small village down the road so the residents must have some way to get on and off the island. She just had to figure out how they did it.