| |
Katherine rested the portable phone on her knee. Not bad restraint considering what she really wanted to do was fling it across the room in frustration. For the past two weeks, Molly had called her every day, twice a day, to check on Tariq. Now, when she needed to call the most, nothing. Of course, Katherine was using a landline from halfway around the world, her cell phone suspiciously lost en route, and Molly was in the Montverde Cloud Forest. Even knowing all of this, Katherine was still completely at her wit’s end.
She tapped the phone against her long skirt-covered legs, and stared at the deep, swooping swirls in the bedroom wall plaster, contemplating the distress of her current situation. Molly was on the final part of her trip, the hike and camp into the cloud forest. It was the highlight of the excursion and where the group planned to do most of their in-depth research. Communication would be sketchy at best. So far, she and Molly had blissful success using their check-in method of communication by leaving an "everything’s fine" message on a secure landline to message app, but now, in the last six hours, Katherine had left three "Tariq’s fine but call me" messages. If she left any more, Molly would become suspicious and start to panic.
Katherine stared at the phone’s screen, dialed the secure number again then hung up. What was the point? There was nothing Molly could do from where she was right now anyway. Katherine and Tariq in Basque Country was a fait accompli. The only thing Molly could do was get here as soon as possible and preferably before Malik came back and, God forbid, took Tariq to Jordon. Dragged to Basque Country against her will and knowledge was one thing, going further onto Jordon was another disaster entirely.
Katherine tossed the handset onto the other side of the bed and fell backward onto the plush mattress with a long-suffering sigh. She was going to need Santiago's promise to not let that happen. It would take Molly at least two weeks to get here, and if she showed up and Tariq was gone, Katherine could not even imagine what her best friend would do. Katherine would literally have to scrape Molly off the ceiling.
Katherine closed her eyes and re-sorted her thoughts. Malik was in Jordon, dealing with his family, probably sorting them out before he presented Molly and his son. So, the likelihood of him coming to take Tariq on his own without Molly was low, else he would have done that already. Malik wanted his son and Molly. His family. He left Tariq here for a reason.
Bait.
Katherine scowled at the ceiling. She was going to have to accept her wretched situation, infuriating as it was, and make the best of it. She wasn't in any real danger, nor was Tariq. The smartest thing for her to do was to try to gain an advantage. She was in a villa in Basque Country, after all, Northern Spain, on the Bay of Biscay. Surely there were undiscovered benefits to that.
Katherine turned her head and stared out the window at the picturesque scenery. She had fought tooth and nail with her college’s social science department and ex-husband, Jon the jerk Cummings, formerly the department chair now the dean, for this sabbatical. She could not let anything get in the way of her success. She had worked too hard and come too far against Jon’s bullying and attempts at derailment to lose focus now. The rat bastard had stolen and changed every useable part of her Ph.D. thesis on early brain development for his own publishing and career success. His determination to publish and not perish in the academic world fueled his lust for the tenured job of department dean, and now he had it on the back of her unwavering support and hard work. The entire time he romanced her inexperienced undergraduate heart, he plagiarized her work and published it as his own.
"I have taken great pains to credit your research in all of my publications, darling. What more do you want? I thought we were a team?"
A slight noise at the door drew Katherine’s attention away from her old, toxic relationship to her present one. She looked up to see Santiago looming in the doorway. She jumped to a sitting position on the bed at his imposing stance.
"Yes?" she snapped against the head rush.
"I did not mean to startle you. My apologies."
She pressed her lips together. "What can I do for you, Mr. Ibbara?"
"Santiago," he corrected. "Are you still trying to reach, Molly?" He looked at the phone still in her hand.
"Yes of course." She also looked at the phone. "I won’t feel better until I speak to her, let her know what’s happened and see what she wants to do."
"She will want to come here."
Or she’ll have a complete meltdown and have to be committed.
Katherine risked a quick but complete glance at Santiago, her jailor, in the doorway. He was still in his “lord of the manner” mode, but unlike Jon who descended from old money and a culture of academic snobbery, Santiago was—she flicked a look at his damp hair, dark eyes, and focused stare— on a different old-world-money level. A dangerous one in fact. He was like a clan king, the last of an ancient guard who took up arms in protection of his people, led from the front, and never went down on one knee. He was the type who stood sentry at the cave door so his family could sleep soundly inside. He would never sneak around. Take something of hers. He'd work for it himself or not have it at all.
Katherine watched him lean one of his sleek muscled shoulders against the carved door jamb.
"Why do you continue to worry? This situation is between Molly and Malik to settle now."
And, arguing with his was futile, like fighting with a massive stone in the middle of your path. Absolutely no point trying to move it, or him. Just find a way around it.
Katherine did a subtle sweep of his attire, a fitted golf shirt that gave way to a pair
of simple black linen pants, his bare feet covered in plain leather sandals. She wasn’t fooled. That casual look didn't hide his steely protective instincts from her. To her relief, he was without his trademark holster or gun, something he openly displayed whenever she was at Malik’s.
"I trust you like what you see?" His amused voice rumbled toward her.
Her eyes flew to his. "Ah—"
"Your room." He smiled indulgently "You like it."
Heat flashed into her cheeks then trickled down into her tummy. "It’s fine." She looked around the room, refusing to meet the knowing gleam in his eyes.
"Good." He nodded. "You will be here at least two weeks, perhaps three. I would like you to be comfortable and able to make the best of this unusual situation."
"Unusual?" She looked back at him. "That’s what you’re calling it now?"
He ignored her bait. "Basque Country is very beautiful with plenty to see."
"Uh-huh." She looked toward the ocean as a warm breeze floated into the room. "Just a girl on vacation." Sailboats dotted the wide blue expanse making her wonder what it would be like to sail out on that fabulous ocean. Go for days and miles and miles, leave all this craziness behind. She’d been to the ocean a grand total of once in her life, with Molly, after their undergrad year, to Mexico. They had planned to take the Mayan Riviera by storm, consume a boatload of umbrella drinks, and entice gorgeous men to have wild first-time sex with them on the beach. Molly fulfilled their dream with reckless abandon. Katherine picked up some kind of bug and was sick as a dog for the first three of the five-day vacation and left the country with her virginity firmly intact. It was pitiful.
Katherine looked away from the azure sea. "Has it occurred to you that I have all but vanished from my life back home?"
Santiago moved some of his hair behind his ear. "Not really. You have no family and tend to work or study all of the time. Mostly at home or the library. You have precious few friends aside from Molly and a few female colleagues you lunch with on occasion. You rarely go out, no kind of dates—"
"Okay hold on," She inwardly winced, not at all liking his accurate description of her life. "I date." Sometimes. She’d been on three dates over the last year with very trustworthy and predictable men. They might have been much older than her, but they were warm, caring and safe. Just how she liked them now. She didn’t want or need another romantic adventure after Jon. He had filled and soured her quota on that front.
"My apologies. I did not take into account your ‘father’ outings."
"My... What? Father outings?"
"Yes," he chuckled. "Those men you went out with who were old enough to be your father." He shook his head. "Truly, you would have been better off with two men, each half the age of your dates."
"What the hell? My dates are none of your business."
"True." He shook his head. "But potential threats to Malik and Tariq were."
"None of my dates were threats."
Santiago shrugged. "One never knows. And it was my job to be thorough with Malik's security while in Canada."
Mortified, Katherine wondered how much this man knew about Jon. Did she even want to ask?
"Nevertheless, Katrin, anyone who knows you knew you were about to take an extended trip for your sabbatical. You said your goodbyes, closed your accounts, and made arrangements to sublet your apartment. Your passport, papers, and plane tickets were all in order. Subsequently, I will replace your old ticket and whatever sum of money you lost due to this—diversion." He pulled out a mini-tablet, tapped on it, then returned it to his pants pocket.
"Is Wi-Fi finally working?" She frowned up at the ceiling.
"I do not need it to make reminder notes in my agenda." He crossed his arms and continued his conversation thread. "No one in your department will think it strange that you have made an early departure to take some time for yourself."
She shook her head. "You’re unbelievable you know? Crossed every T and dotted every I; got everything all figured out."
He raised an eyebrow. "There are a few things I have yet to figure out about you."
She was not going to touch that Pandora’s Box-like comment. Instead, she inhaled and feigned complete calm as she wondered exactly how much this man knew about her private life. Far more than she knew about his, unfairly. Her knowledge of Basque Country and its people was extremely limited. Her maternal grandmother had been Basque, though she rarely spoke about her birthplace. When she did, it was with the tone of a long time ago and far, far away, so to Katherine, this place was like a fairytale. A place that only existed in other people's dreams. Like Camelot.
Her father had been patriotic Irish and never stopped talking about his country even though he rarely returned to it. Her mother on the other hand, now that she thought about it, never spoke about Basque Country, her birthplace. Katherine now wondered for the first time, why not.
"Donna Dora is worried that you do not eat," Santiago's voice broke into her thoughts. " She left the tray while you were in the shower in hopes you would have something."
Katherine now noticed the stacked tray of fresh fruit kebobs on the pedestal table near the window. A breeze lifted the luscious scent through the room.
"I’ve only been here half a day. Who has time to eat during a nervous breakdown?"
Santiago lifted the side of his mouth. "She is used to feeding all of us every few hours." He moved over to the tray and popped a few grapes into his mouth, smiling the way a parent would in hopes of enticing their toddler to eat.
She rolled her eyes.
"See. It is not poisoned if that is your concern." He was now an intriguing mix of Spanish prince and cocky kidnapper.
She shook her head and joined him at the table. "It’s not, eh?"
"Have I not promised that I will not let any harm come to you?"
She scoffed. "You just let me be internationally kidnapped."
He stopped chewing. "If I could have prevented that, I would have. You were never a part of the plan."
"No. Just Tariq." She exhaled and looked directly at him. "You are going to have to give me your word that you will not let Malik come here and take Tariq to Jordon before Molly arrives."
"Have I not already promised this?" He put down the fruit and looked back at her.
"Not this, you haven’t," she pressed her thumbs into her forefingers. "I need you to swear ... on the blood of your ancestors that you won't let that happen."
A muscle jumped in Santiago's jaw before he put a hand over his heart. "On the blood of my ancestors, I promise this to you."
Katherine studied him for a long moment before she exhaled.
Santiago dropped his hand. "So you know me well enough to gain a blood oath from me?"
She shrugged. "I just want you to take this seriously."
He raised an eyebrow. "A blood oath is more than serious in this country."
"Hmm," she looked past the fluttering curtains at the sea. "Are they binding?"
"Of course."
"Good." Katherine looked back at him. "How do I make sure you're bound to this oath?"
Without hesitation or his eyes leaving hers, he picked up a knife and raked the blade across the palm of his hand. Before she could stop him he encircled her wrist and squeezed. "You now have my blood with the promise. Realize that if you ever give me your blood with a promise, you too will be bound by it."
Katherine swallowed but didn't look away. "Okay."
He let go of her wrist and picked up a napkin, squeezing it inside his closed hand. "Now, you must eat. Good food also binds us in Basque Country." He nodded at the food with another half-smile.
Katherine pulled her eyes from the bloody napkin in his palm and pushed the wonder of what just happened aside. She would have to sort it out later, that Santiago had cut his hand with ease before staining her wrist with the blood was ... something. That he, by her own demand had just slid her into water that was way over her head. She felt like she was in the Twilight Zone.
Katherine reached for one of the fruit kebobs and pulled a line of perfect strawberries off one end and forced herself to concentrate on the sweet taste of the berry in her mouth. It was heavenly and she couldn’t help melting a little at the sweet taste. No matter where she was, whatever she was doing, sweet fruits were her downfall. Berries, grapes, mangoes...home. They were all of her comfort foods.
"There is also Greek yogurt." Santiago nodded at a crystal dish of thick smooth yogurt. "I know you have it daily with fruit for breakfast."
Katherine automatically dipped the next strawberry inside. "Do you know what it would have done to me if I had woken up back in Canada to find Tariq gone?"
Santiago reached for a little glass decanter and poured some of the dark golden liquid over the yogurt. "I know that you love maple syrup over the top."
She blinked as the fresh fragrance of maple lifted to her nose. "Where on Earth did you get maple syrup from over here?"
He shrugged. "I am nothing if not resourceful."
"Clearly." She watched him set down the syrup before she eagerly picked up the yogurt and spooned some into her mouth. The backs of Santiago’s hands, she noted were deeply tanned, ridged with several scars that ran the length of some of his fingers. Definitely not the hands of an academic. Sometime in his life, he’d worked those fingers as maybe a farmer or horseman or craftsman perhaps? Absolutely something in the trade industry because he held the distinctive air and interesting mix of layman and privilege, someone who did not take his circumstance for granted. He valued family and fealty and had a strong aura of simplicity about him.
"And I know how panicked you would have been if you had woken to find Tariq gone. It is the main reason why I did not separate you, command them to take you back home without him."
She smirked. "More like you didn’t want me calling to arms every law enforcement agency I could rally once I got there."
He nodded. "Nor that. I knew exactly what would have happened if I’d left you alone. Desperate men may do desperate things, but a desperate angry woman..." He put the napkin in his hand onto the table. "... is far more dangerous."
She eyed him as she ate the yogurt. "This is really good."
He nodded in approval.
"Don—" A man ascended the stairs and stopped in the open bedroom doorway. Luken, she remembered from earlier.
"Katrin." Santiago turned. "There was no opportunity before, but may I now present my cousin, Luken."
She put down the yogurt and smiled at the twenty-something-year-old replica of Santiago's thirty-three. Malik, interestingly enough, was exactly the same age as Santiago, but the men were not twins. They were half-brothers, but close enough in age, nature and loyalty to family to be twins.
"Our fathers are brothers," Santiago offered.
Clearly. She blinked back at Luken’s blatant display of their strong family gene pool. "Hello." She marveled at the way his short black hair had been gelled into a messy, carefree style.
"Very good to finally meet you." He gave a slight bow, his dark eyes alive with an infectious note of whimsical curiosity.
Katherine stepped forward and stuck out her hand. "Finally?"
"Yes." Luken looked at her hand then nudged Santiago. "She is to be your equal." He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. "My cousin needs a woman who would shake his hand instead of accepting his kiss." His eyes shone full of high-jinx.
Santiago stepped ominously between them and untangled her fingers from Luken’s. "My cousin refers to the fact that our customs are such that only men shake hands."
Katherine’s heart thumped in her chest as Santiago threaded his coarse fingers possessively through hers, his palm still a little damp with blood smears. She had imagined his fingers would feel this way, a little rough and savage despite his regal urbane character.
Luken tilted his head around Santiago’s stiff body to look at her. "Yes, we kiss our women as they run the family and our homes, though it is still the men who wear the pants in Basque Country."
"I see." She glanced up at Santiago, but his eyes remained on Luken. She held no doubt about who wore the pants in this family.
Santiago gently stroked her palm with his thumb. "The car, cousin."
Luken gave her a quick wink and a slight bow before he jogged back down the stairs.
"My cousin, as usual, speaks out of turn." Santiago watched him go.
"Oh, I don’t think so." She followed his gaze toward the empty staircase. "I found him quite enlightening."
He turned to her. "Yes. You would." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I regret that I must leave. I have been away for a long time and have several matters to take care of."
She swallowed when his thumb stroked across her palm again, the feeling swift. Was he rubbing his blood into her skin? She inhaled but couldn’t quite exhale. "How nice to be able to leave."
"Luken will be here and can see to anything you need." He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, directly over the place his cousin just had. "You are free to enjoy everything in my home while I am gone. I wish you to, in fact." He put her hand to his chest, directly over his heart, the contact sending a frisson of heat through her tummy.
"As long as I don’t try to take off, right?"
"You have no reason to go, or any means to get there. Tariq is enjoying himself. You saw this with your own eyes. He is safe and expects his parents to arrive soon. Why give him a reason to be distressed?"
She pursed her lips. "You’re really going to play the think-of-the-child-first card?"
"Whatever I must do." His fingers flexed against hers. "Your palm covers my heart. Does it feel like I’m not being honest with you? That you cannot trust me?"
Nervous anxiety sifted through her system. "I have trust issues."
He lifted the side of his mouth. "I like having you here in my country."
"You mean you like having me captive and at your mercy."
He kissed her fingers again. "You are such beautiful trouble." He held her eyes for a long moment then shook his head. "I should be back in a day. Do not cause mischief in my absence."
He turned and descended the stairs, leaving her to stare after him.
*****
