Destination Wedding Read online

  It was a cynical thought, and she struggled to dispel it. But it was followed by another dark speculation. What would he do if she resisted him in bed?

  oOo

  Mary Ann was talking to one of the guests, a man of about Victor’s age with a rounded body and salt and pepper hair.

  She detached herself and glided over to the bride and groom. “Do you want to change out of your wedding gown into something a bit more comfortable?” she asked Camille.

  “Yes, thank you,” she answered, glad for the chance to take off the long dress. It might look stunning, but it was hardly comfortable.

  She and the other woman went back to her bedroom, where several elegant but practical selections were laid out. She chose a dark blue silk shirtwaist and low-heeled sandals.

  As Mary Ann helped her take off the wedding dress, she was thinking that Victor had probably arranged for the change of clothing now so he wouldn’t have to deal with all the little buttons on the gown.

  “We should put this in plastic,” his assistant murmured.

  As far as Camille was concerned, it could go into the ocean, but she only nodded before putting on the shirtwaist and walked back to the patio where she saw Victor immediately focus on her. Apparently he didn’t want to let her out of his sight for long.

  “You looked lovely in your wedding dress, and you’re equally lovely now,” he complimented her.

  “Thank you.”

  Leaning closer, he whispered, “I can’t wait to be alone with you.”

  She could only nod wordlessly, fighting the sudden breathless feeling that seized her.

  The reception lasted for several hours. Mostly Victor was relaxed now that he thought Camille was completely in his control, but sometimes she saw him startle, then probe the shadows. Was he seeing the same thing she had—Nick Cassidy?

  The guests kept getting louder the more they drank. Camille would have wished them away—except that the reality of being alone with her new husband made her blood run cold.

  Although the tropical island was warm, it was November, and by late in the afternoon, it was getting dark. Everyone began to seek out her and Victor before heading toward the boat dock. As each couple left, Victor gave all of the women what looked like a diamond pendant. Quite a nice little wedding favor.

  The patio was empty, and Camille couldn’t stop herself from looking around for Nick, but she only saw the servants who were putting away the furniture and the food.

  Hoping to stave off the inevitable, she said, “I hardly got anything to eat during the reception. Do you think we could have a little supper?”

  He considered the suggestion. “Yes, I didn’t have much, either. Why don’t I have a table and some food brought to my bedroom.”

  His bedroom. She’d hoped they could eat in the dining room.

  Testing to see how much he’d indulge her, she said, “Why don’t we stop in the kitchen so we can each make a selection.”

  Again he agreed.

  As soon as they entered, the staff stepped back, and she and Victor looked over the bowls and platters on the counter, each filling a plate. He also picked up a bottle of champagne and two glasses before leading her down the hall past the room where she’d spent the night. As she followed after him with her heart pounding in double time, she was hoping she could drink enough champagne to make her mind go fuzzy.

  They stepped into his bedroom, and her breath caught as she focused on the dark wood king-sized bed where the green and brown spread had been neatly turned back.

  She set down her plate on the small table, struggling with cold dread as she waited for him to touch her. Instead he sat down opposite her, leaning back and stretching out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles.

  When he said, “I married you for love,” she struggled not to make a choking sound. Did he even know what the word meant?

  “But there is a dividend. Your father refused a deal I offered him. Now he’ll have to take it. You know, because he’ll want to keep you safe.”

  Goose bumps rose on her arms. So that was why he didn’t care which daughter he married. He’d get what he really wanted, either way.

  If he caught her reaction, he ignored it, watching her like a cat who isn’t quite ready to pounce on a cornered mouse.

  The relaxed, satisfied look made her throat close. Needing to put some distance between them, she turned away and walked to the bathroom. From the doorway, she saw a large marble expanse that looked like a luxurious Roman spa.

  She stepped inside and pushed the door closed, thinking she could buy herself a few minutes of privacy. When she did, someone grabbed her from behind and pressed a hand over her mouth.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Camille tried to scream, but the hand tightened over her lips. As she struggled to pull away, a voice in her ear warned, “Don’t say anything, and don’t struggle.”

  As the familiar voice registered in her brain, she felt relief wash over her. Nick Cassidy was here. Against all odds he had gotten onto the island—and into Victor’s private quarters. She tried to turn, but his strong arms held her in place.

  “Nod if you understand,” he demanded, the words barely a whisper in her ear.

  When she did as he asked, he unclamped his hand from her mouth. She spun to face him, her eyes wide and her heart pounding.

  She was sure she had seen him at the reception. Then she was sure it was her own mind playing tricks. Apparently it was no illusion. Earlier he’d been dressed in a tuxedo like the invited guests. Now he had changed into a uniform that mimicked the men of Zanov’s security force.

  She wanted to shout, “Thank God.” But somehow she remembered to whisper the words.

  The look of relief on his face matched her own. When she reached for him, he pulled her into his embrace. As he folded her close, she drew in the first deep breath she’d taken since she woke up in the bedroom down the hall.

  “You came.”

  “I had to.”

  The admission and his tone revealed a lot to her. For months he’d kept her at arm’s length, and she’d wondered how he really felt about her. Now she was sure he cared, and her heart leaped at that knowledge.

  His hands stroked up and down her back as he brought his lips to her ear again.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. But I was scared.”

  “Of course you were, but you did all the right things.” His voice turned fierce, “He didn’t . . . ?”

  “No.”

  “Thank God.”

  Once again, the show of emotion warmed her. But his next words were a warning. “Getting off the island isn’t going to be easy.”

  “I know.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Swam from a boat offshore,” he said, keeping his voice at a whisper.

  “And you did that thing?”

  “What thing?”

  “You made it so nobody could see you.”

  He answered with a low sound. “You noticed.”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you do it?”

  His hands gripped her shoulders. “We have to focus on getting away.”

  Now that she was in his arms, it was hard to control her own emotions. “You let me marry him,” she said in a broken voice.

  “I couldn’t exactly attack him in front of a dozen thugs and his armed security force.” Yet even as he pointed out the obvious, she heard the regret in his voice.

  “You saw me exchange vows with him.”

  “Yeah. But don’t focus on that now. We have to get you out of here before he finishes what he started.”

  The frank observation was like a dash of cold water.

  She wanted to stay in Nick’s arms where she knew she would be safe. But safety was only a state of mind until they had fled this death trap.

  “I’ve got travel clothes for you. But you can’t put them on until we’re out of here.”

  “Okay.”

  He eased away, looked around and sa
w the frothy nightgown on a hanger near the mirror. “Maybe you’d better put that on.”

  Earlier the idea of dressing in a nightgown had made her cringe. Now she began to open the buttons down the front of her shirtwaist, then glanced at him. For a long moment, their eyes met before he turned around to give her some privacy.

  Swiftly she opened the rest of the buttons, yanked off the dress and kicked it into a corner. She hesitated for a moment. She would wear the gown with panties and a bra under it.

  “Okay,” she told Nick, keeping her voice low.

  He turned around and his eyes traveled over her body. The heated look he gave her made her skin prickle. Needing to say something, she asked, “How did you get in here?”

  His attention snapped back to her face. “Across the roof. But we can’t leave the same way. They’d see you.”

  “Yeah and in this gown.”

  “And a robe,” he said, pointing to the matched pair hanging nearby.

  She nodded, wondering how they were going to get past Victor in the bedroom.

  Nick answered the unspoken question. “You’re going to call him in and I’ll take care of him.”

  Before they could act on the plan, a knock at the door made her freeze. When Nick’s gaze bore into hers, she called out, “Yes?”

  “Are you all right?” Zanov asked.

  “Yes,” she answered. “Sorry, my stomach was a bit upset after all the excitement.”

  “I’d better make sure you’re okay,” he answered, and she caught the edge of doubt in his voice. Probably he thought she was staying in here to avoid the inevitable as long as possible. Not a good move for a bride.

  As the knob turned, Nick backed up and went stone-still. Maybe he was trying that trick of his—to make it so that nobody could see him. Or maybe now that he’d come to rescue her, she’d be the exception.

  The door opened and Zanov stepped in and zeroed in on her, his gaze also probing the gown and seeing her underwear. Then he spotted the dress crumpled on the floor.

  Anger flashed in his blue eyes. “What is going on, exactly?”

  His gaze swung around the bathroom, and when it found the spot where Nick was standing, a harsh Russian curse flew from his lips. She’s seen the man’s violent streak, and she had no illusions about what he’d do to Nick.

  Reaching around to the back of his waist, he pulled out an automatic pistol. Camille gasped. Acting instinctively, she swung out her arm, hitting him in the face before he could fire.

  Probably everything was happening very fast, but it felt to Camille as if time had slowed down so that she could take in every detail of the scene. Nick knocked the Russian off his feet, and both men went down. Victor still had the gun in his hand, and Nick was trying to yank it away as they rolled across the marble floor.

  When he couldn’t reach the gun, Nick slammed Victor’s head against the floor. The Russian cried out, but kept control of the weapon, struggling to get it into position to blow Nick away.

  Camille looked wildly around and spotted a Chinese vase full of flowers sitting on the sink counter. Snatching it up by the neck, she brought it down on Zanov’s head. He made a startled sound and went still as flowers and water fell around him.

  Nick took the gun and heaved the Russian away. He landed with a thud on the hard floor, cracking his head again.

  “Good work.”

  She nodded, then said, “He saw you.”

  He grimaced. “Unfortunately, staying out of sight only works when I can keep my emotions under control.”

  He got to his feet and straightened his clothing.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He looked from her to the man lying on the floor and asked in a hard voice. “Do you want me to kill him?”

  The directness of the question shocked her. She kept her gaze on Zanov, wishing he’d gotten killed in the struggle because that would make things easier. But he was only out cold, and even though he’d kidnapped and planned to rape her, she couldn’t order his execution. “I can’t ask you to do that,” she said to Nick.

  His voice took on a tone of certainty, as though she’d confirmed something about herself. “I didn’t think so. But we’ve got to make sure he doesn’t send his goons after us.”

  Nick looked around the room, walked to the bathrobes hanging on hooks and pulled out the belts, which he used to tie Zanov’s hands and feet. Then he used a small towel for a gag. When he’d secured the man, he searched his pockets and took out his wallet, keys and a small knife.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making sure he can’t signal for help.” He dragged him to the linen closet, shoved him in and locked the door.

  She stared at the closed door. “How long do we have?”

  “I don’t know. Nobody’s going to interrupt him on his wedding night.” He gave her a direct look. “But getting out of here is going to depend on stealth.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There are too many guards for me to shoot our way out. We may have to take care of some without the rest realizing what’s happening.”

  All she could answer was, “Okay.”

  They both exited the bathroom, and crossed the bedroom. Opening the door a crack, Nick looked out.

  “There’s a guy at the end of the hall.”

  “You could sneak past him.”

  “But you can’t. And where would you be going on your wedding night? To get a glass of milk?”

  She made a low sound. “More like an ice pack.”

  He swore under his breath, and she turned toward him.

  “That invisible thing. If you did it and put your arms around me, would that make me invisible, too?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then what are we going to do?”

  “Call the guard down here and tell him that Zanov wants to talk to him.”

  “On his wedding night? Is that believable?”

  “This island is Zanov’s kingdom, and everybody who works here is trained to take Zanov’s word as law.”

  She thought about how the staff had acted in the presence of the master.

  Nick took a weird-looking handgun from his knapsack.

  “What’s that?”

  “Tranq gun. It will put him out of commission without making any noise.”

  She nodded and opened the door. When she stepped partway into the hallway, the guard’s attention snapped to her.

  “Can you come here for a minute,” she called out softly. “Mr. Zanov has a job for you.”

  He looked doubtful but came down the hall, his automatic rifle held across his chest. As she stepped aside, he followed her into the bedroom. When he looked around and didn’t see the king, he gave her a questioning look. But before he could do more than that, Nick stepped from behind the door and zapped him with a tranquilizer dart. The guard folded to the floor.

  Nick dragged him and his weapon to the other side of the bed where they wouldn’t be visible if someone happened to look into the room.

  Nick came quickly back to her. “We’d better get out of here. You know the layout of the house?”

  “Yes. Victor was very happy to give me a tour, He thinks any woman would be thrilled to live here”

  He shook his head, then said, “We want to get to the natural area beyond the gardens.”

  “He said it was dangerous in there.”

  “Of course he would say that to keep you from trying to escape. But really, he doesn’t want any dangers creeping out of the jungle into his living area.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  “What’s the most direct route from here to there?”

  “Down the hall, past the living room and dining room. There are a couple of doors onto the patio.”

  Before they left the bedroom, she laid her head against his shoulder, and he clasped her to him, folding her close. They had gotten this far, but she knew they still weren’t safe.

  “There could be other guards
. And I’m going to try and stay invisible,” he murmured. “You walk naturally, like you’re just going for a stroll.”

  “Sure.”

  She started down the hall and heard him following but didn’t look back. Most of the lights were off, but a single lamp burned in the living room. She peered around the corner and saw Mary Ann sitting on the sofa, her shoulders hunched and a tall glass of clear liquid in her hand. Vodka? As Camille watched, the woman took a gulp from the glass, grimaced and muttered something that Camille couldn’t catch.

  It looked like Victor’s assistant wasn’t taking the wedding so well. She clenched her hand around the glass. Then she deliberately put it down, reached into the pocket of her dress, and pulled out a mobile phone.

  Camille watched her face harden as she punched in some numbers.

  When someone on the other end of the line answered, she spoke in a low voice. It sounded like she said, “Go.” But Camille couldn’t be sure.

  The call lasted only seconds, and Mary Ann replaced the phone in her pocket, then threw her head back against the sofa cushions and closed her eyes.

  Camille took a deep breath, then walked quickly but quietly across the open space at the edge of the darkened hallway. Apparently she hadn’t been seen because Mary Ann didn’t raise a cry of alarm. Or maybe she had seen and was hoping Camille would wind up with her head on a chopping block.

  Nick joined her on the other side of the wide doorway. Neither of them spoke as they continued into the empty dining room, then through the doorway to the patio.

  She looked back at Nick. “What was that about, do you think?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s hope it doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

  Camille nodded as they stood in the shadows, looking out at the darkened landscape. A few hours ago, the space had been set up for the wedding ceremony and reception. Now it was back to its original configuration with an umbrella table and a couple of chaises at the edge of the pool.

  Nick’s hand closed around her wrist, and she went still. Following his gaze, she saw a guard with an automatic rifle approaching.

  Both of them pressed into the shadows as the guy walked steadily toward them, then kept on going past.