Chapter Four
Erika smoothed her hands over the gray T-shirt and slipped into the jeans. She appreciated the denim to keep bugs from biting her legs, but the heat didn’t help any. She had barely left the cold shower and sweat already formed on her forehead. Their proximity to the jungle and its humidity made her feel like she was locked inside a sauna.
She squared her shoulders and glanced at her reflection in the oval mirror. The climate did her no favors. Making a face, she touched the frizzy tips of her hair. God, she needed to look half decent if she wanted a way out.
You can always count on money to show people’s true colors. Her father used that phrase a few times, and while she refused to be as cynical as he when the subject was money, right now she wished she could offer Emanuel an amount in exchange for her freedom. Emanuel had enough money. What else could she give him?
She cleared her throat. You know what he wants. It had occurred to her when he had looked deep into her eyes after the phone call. Her captor desired her, and she had to use the little bit of leverage she had over him to her advantage. Emanuel was clearly hell-bent on making her father admit to a crime he hadn’t committed. Who knew for how long he’d keep her? She shuddered.
She ran her fingers through her hair, then tried to rock the wavy look. Not happening. Emanuel no doubt dated women much more exotic and adventurous than her. Yet…he seemed interested. Would he act on it?
Am I going to act on it?
A knock on her door made her jump. Crap. She sucked at seduction. She needed all the missing props: fancy lingerie, candles, slow stripper music, shamelessly high heels. All she had was…was… What are my assets again?
“Are you done?” he asked from the other side of the door. She heard the click of the door being unlocked.
She palmed the handle and twisted it. He leaned against the threshold, sizing her up like she was some sworn enemy rather than a woman he wanted to sleep with. Sigh. If she wanted a way out of this, she’d have to change her tune—subtly. Emanuel could be a lot of things, but dumb didn’t make the list.
“Since we don’t have dinner reservations, this is as good as it gets.” She shrugged.
He let out a sound, one she couldn’t peg for mockery or annoyance. Then he lifted his finger and curled it, inviting her to follow him into the bedroom. She swallowed, walking alongside him. Things were looking up. So far, no sign of the cuffs. But he didn’t compliment her or even joke about how she scrubbed up well. So much for him being attracted to her. Did she really expect it?
No. She cleared her throat. She wanted it. Irritation expanded in her lungs. Girl, relax. This is just all too confusing.
“I made you a sandwich.” He handed her a ham and cheese club.
“Thanks.” She took a bite, and then realized she’d been hungry.
“We’ll go to sleep soon.”
“Go ahead. I highly doubt I’ll be able to,” she said. She’d been trying to will away the idea of Randall breaking up with her for money—her father’s money and idea. Could she have been that naive? Don’t forget this is what your enemy wants you to believe.
“As your personal guide and host, I promise to do whatever I can to improve your experience,” he said.
“What do you mean?” She scanned the small room. The minimally decorated space had white walls, a full size queen bed, and a wooden dresser. No windows. A ceiling fan that only shifted the humidity in the air.
He pointed at the bed. “Get on it.”
“Like this?” She pulled at her jeans. “I don’t think I can be comfortable in these. They are about a size too small as they are.”
“They don’t look small.”
“Well, I’m all for skinny denim, but I like to be able to breathe when I sleep.”
“You said a second ago you didn’t expect to close your eyes.” He turned down the thin bedspread. “Princesa, once you’re under the covers, I don’t care if you strip down naked. It’s your choice. I just need you to get in bed.”
Naked. A cold shiver zapped down her spine. The idea of seducing him seemed a good strategy, but executing it?
Under his scrutiny, she slid under the covers and pulled the beige sheet up her neck, while she fussed to remove the jeans. Once done, she shoved them to the side. Where would he sleep? He took off his shoes, and she gasped when he slipped in next to her.
He slapped the cuffs on her wrist, and she jumped. “The whole idea of me taking off my pants was because I wanted some normalcy. These shackles defeat the purpose, wouldn’t you agree?”
“These will guarantee you will still be in the same spot in the morning.”
“Why? Are you used to women racing out of your bed as soon as possible?” She managed to say it steadily.
He chuckled. “No, madam, I guarantee you there’s no fleeing from my bed. Ever.”
“How can I be so sure?” she said boldly, then licked her upper lip. A fire stoked in her belly, and she turned to face him. Restraint wouldn’t help her in the beginning, but if she got his trust—even on a sexual level—she would be one step closer to freedom. Her nipples puckered, and she didn’t know if it was because he excited her, or if the idea of using her sex appeal to escape did. Either way, she would keep at it. “Your type is more about taking than giving.” Not that she had any experience with super sexy kidnappers before.
His brows furrowed, and he propped himself on his elbow. A dark glow hit his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Maybe I need a bedtime story.”
A smile played at his lips. “I have one for you.” He dipped his head closer, and she closed her eyes to soak in that wonderful manly scent. He talked into her ear, his breath causing the little hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. She squirmed and anticipated his hands on her. Her breath caught in her dry throat. “Once upon a time, a sexy, beautiful princess who lived in a land far, far away…” he started, and with his free hand, he tipped her chin.
Gathering all her strength, she opened her eyes and gazed at him. Wow. The man was gorgeous. She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. What could she say? In that moment, any reasoning or hidden agenda faded into the background. The fast beating of her heart surpassed the creaking from the old ceiling fan. Her heart throbbed in her ears, in her mouth, and in the most feminine part of her. “Tell me more.”
He stroked her jaw, the touch light yet branding. She moaned. “The princess had a very naughty secret. She liked to get kinky with the henchman.”
A wave of heat spread across her cheeks and neck. The image of Emanuel splitting wood and guarding a palace settled in her head. She could see his strong biceps shifting and sweat glistening over his dark olive skin.
He slid his hand down her neck. “At night, when everyone slept, he climbed up to her room and joined her in bed. She always kept ready for him. Wet…and naked.”
A sigh flew past her lips. “What did he do to her?”
Emanuel sneaked his palm under her panties. She arched into him, wanting to lose herself in his caress and forget about anything else. “He touched her in the one place that was his alone, where it didn’t matter about her title, or his wrongdoings… When his finger entered her, it all came together.”
He palmed her hot sex. The scent of arousal found its way up to her nostrils. She lifted her head, in hopes he’d kiss her. But Emanuel digressed, withdrawing, his hand halted on the part of her that most needed attention.
“No…no…don’t stop. Please. I’ll do anything you want,” she said, unable to stop the words from spilling out of her. A lie, certainly, a small voice inside her alerted. Right? She wouldn’t need to do anything with him. Once he wanted more and uncuffed her, that would be a start. Maybe not this time, but soon. He would trust her.
“How willing, minha princesa,” Emanuel said in an amused tone, and she wondered if he mocked or revered her. He moved his fingers and she mellowed, his index finger languidly fondling her slick folds. God. She was burning up with need. He thrust a finger into her, the sensation so freaking good it sizzled all her nerve endings. She bucked into his hand, clenching her inner muscles around it. He flicked her clit and added another finger to her pussy.
“So. Good.” She grasped the sheets with her free hand. A powerful sensation built in her core, spreading through her like flames on timber. Turning her head from side to side, she gasped. The pressure was too strong for her to fight it—not that she wanted to.
With admirable mastery, he intensified his rhythm, flicking her faster and plunging his fingers in and out of her while she thrust her hips into him. A string of moans filled the air, her moans. The sounds so raw, so coarse she barely recognized her own voice. Spasms nearly lifted her body from the bed, as ripples of pleasure shifted into a huge wave, washing over her—and stealing her breath.
“Let me touch you, too. Let me taste you,” she said, unsure if that was her primeval female need talking, or just a pragmatic idea to get rid of the cuffs.
“You want me in your mouth?” He kissed her eyebrow. A final tremor traveled through her, starting at her neck down her body as if Emanuel was some kind of accomplished maestro, dictating the direction and intensity.
“Yes.”
He groaned. “Should I uncuff you?”
“It would be more comfortable.”
Emanuel disengaged from her, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Good night, Erika.”
Say what? She blinked once, twice, three times. Disappointment cooled her bloodstream. “W-what?” she whispered, light headed and her body still tender.
He barked out a hearty laugh. “Did you really think I’d fall for your charms and jeopardize my mission? Sleep with you and set you free so you can run?”
Erika flushed. Crap. Crap, crap. “Yes, I would go somewhere naked at night, in the middle of nowhere without speaking the language. The bugs would kill me before I managed to walk three feet.”
“Why did you come on to me like that? I thought I repulsed you.”
Did he really have to make everything so complicated? Men were supposed to be simple. She swallowed the lump of pride in her throat. “Not physically.”
“And you know how to separate things? You’re not some romantic lady who wants a lot?”
She was exactly that lady, but not with him—even her attempt at seduction failed. The guy meant trouble to her father, the organization she ran and everything it entailed—her career, her name. “I’m a foolish woman who gave in to an impulse.”
He frowned. Did she think it would be easy? Shit. “I don’t know if I believe you.”
“Well, I used past tense. Your change of heart turned me off.” She fluffed her pillow with her free hand and closed her eyes, pretending to yawn. “Good night,” she said, even though sleeping would be nearly impossible.
…
Emanuel watched her sleep. She’d have a hell of a surprise when she woke up to find herself free. Well, somewhat free. He’d ensured he had the key to the only door leading outside sitting in his pocket. Rays of sunshine trespassed through the cracks of the pieces of wood bolting the window, and the handcuffs on the nightstand sparkled.
He coughed. The previous night he could have screwed her and put an end to the inconvenient throbbing of his cock whenever she was around. That would have been quick, easy, and practical. He’d address the itch and move on.
After all, she told him she wasn’t looking for anything else. He surged to his feet. Why did sleeping with her seem like a solution rather than a problem? His rational side laughed. Screwing her would muddy the waters. It would make it much harder to hand her back to her father once the old man provided them with the truth of what had happened to Raul. Only if I didn’t know how to separate things. Based on his experience, saying good-bye shouldn’t be a problem.
“Morning.” The soft, feminine voice had him turning to see her.
She stretched like a lazy cat after a long nap. Erika had mellowed under his touch. What would she do if he did more to her? If they actually—
“No restraints? I’m starting to believe you have a soft side.” She massaged her wrists with a seductive smile. Damn.
“Don’t.” He grabbed his handcrafted hunting knife and the sleek handgun he’d bought before this mission and secured them in his backpack. The act reminded him he was her captor, and not her boyfriend. He’d have to keep thinking that way, or he’d fail. “Get dressed, and meet me in the kitchen.”
He nodded at her before she answered, headed to make them coffee, and gathered some breakfast items from the pantry: croissants, cheese, apples, and bananas. Those would have to do the job for now. For the next couple of days, he’d prefer to lay low rather than venture to the next town to gather supplies and food. The more they stayed under the radar, the better. Silas had the means to hire topnotch private investigators to find his heiress.
Emanuel heard the sound of her opening the bathroom door and lifted the small white cup of coffee to his lips. The taste was strong, even a tad bitter. Shit. He sucked at this domestic stuff. Back in his mansion in Rio, he counted on a gifted, longtime housekeeper who managed everything.
Erika appeared a few minutes later, her hair brushed and denim covering the legs he’d yearned to see. He bet they were long, toned, sensual.
“I’ve made you some coffee.” He gestured for her to sit at the round table and gave her a cup.
“Thanks.” She raised it to her lips, then coughed and covered her mouth. “This is horrible. Is the bad coffee part of my hostage punishment? Some subtle form of modern torture? I’m telling you, you should patent this flavor and sell it to North Korea.”
He bit back a smile. Keep your composure. “There’s also orange juice and water.”
She grabbed a bite of croissant and poured herself some juice. “For a Brazilian, your coffee skills are not impressive.”
He winked at her, and for a fleeting moment wondered how their relationship would evolve if they’d met at a bar or a beach. Would it be different than his other ones? No. Couldn’t be. “One of my few flaws.”
“What are the other flaws? Inability to fully satisfy a woman? Need to kidnap people to prove a point? Arrogance? Bad kisser?”
Inability to resist a challenge. The response burned at the tip of his tongue, but he bit it. Maybe she sensed how hard it was not to answer, for she studied him intently. Her gaze trailed down his face, his shoulders. An energy passed between them, and he had to clear his throat to swallow. His gut clenched, and not pulling her to him and screwing her against the wall, fast and dirty, seemed fucking impossible. “I’m sure you will find out in good time.”
She glanced at the bowl of fruit and picked an apple. “How long until this situation is solved?”
“It all depends on your father.”
“Have you ever wondered what you’d do in case he doesn’t give you what you’re searching for? You can’t keep me a hostage forever,” she said, and bit into the apple.
He leaned against the countertop. Of course he’d considered all options. There was a good chance her father would try and find them within a couple of days, which was why Emanuel had gone above and beyond with a good share of bribing to secure their location. Silas Lancaster needed his daughter, and that had nothing to do with love. Erika’s leadership in his charity added warmth and good PR to his ruthless ways; a link to old family values, since they had named it after his deceased wife. Once Silas realized finding her would be impossible, he would try to negotiate—and Emanuel didn’t need Silas to tell him the whole truth. All he wanted was for his version of the truth to give Emanuel enough substance to gather evidence against Silas, and return Raul to his family. Emanuel also needed Raul’s testimony to sue Silas. And win.
“Your father needs time to realize he can’t buy everyone. He’ll try to buy me.”
“You really think the worst of him.”
He popped his knuckles. “I’m a realist.”
She shook her head. “Look, my father isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. I’ll give you that. He’s consumed by his work and often crosses the line of making people feel like they take a backseat on his priority list. But to assume he’s—”
“He does it to everyone. Remember Randall? Your father bribed him so he’d get out of your life because Silas thought a personal trainer wasn’t good enough and brought nothing to the table. The sleazeball took the bait.” And proved her father right, Emanuel added inwardly.
“How…how do you know all that? How can you be really sure?” she asked, her voice wavering. “I’ve tried not to think about it ever since you told me. You talk about it like you mean it.”
Emanuel drew in a breath. Hurting her wasn’t his goal. Yet, whenever she defended her father, she gave him no other option but to be honest. “I did my homework before I kidnapped you,” he said. Researching the kind of relationship that she had with her father had been crucial to using it as a weapon. Now the strategy made him feel cheap, wrong, and defeated.
She shifted in the chair. “So my boyfriend never wanted me. He never loved me.”
Silence. If Erika was his woman, Emanuel would never have exchanged her for any amount of money. He squared his shoulders. Such possessiveness never appealed to him, so why did he have that stupid—and hypocritical—thought? The very idea of a kidnapping meant he’d exchange her for what he wanted in the end, but did his noble goal make him any less wrong?
Erika crossed her arms over her chest, shoulders sagging against the wall. “When I was growing up, I dreamed of becoming Dad’s priority. He was always busy. My mom did all she could so I wouldn’t realize he was absent most of the time. After she died…I thought we were good. Working with him brought us closer in a sense. But if what you’re saying is true…”
“He didn’t think Randall was worthy of you.”
She massaged her temples, her fingers trembling. “I guess hoping someone would stick with me without my father’s interference is a lot to ask these days.”
He glanced down at the floor and fiddled with his belt. How could he even try to deny he was part of the problem? The whole reason why he’d strode into her life revolved around her father’s doings. And why did a part of him want to be different? Just so he wouldn’t feel like a scumbag for being one more man who used her?
He stared at her and sadness flickered in her mocha irises. His chest tightened. “I’m sorry about your father. But remember, you are a sexy, vibrant, smart woman who can get anyone she wants.”
“Coming from the guy who made me feel like an idiot when I foolishly tried to seduce him last night.” She lifted a hand in a silent plea for him to shut up. He cleared his throat, unwilling to let the regret well up inside. Shit. Too late. “You don’t have to tell me these things. That’s okay.”
She stood and turned in the opposite direction from him, but he caught her elbow before she could step farther away.
He grunted. Back away, man. The voice inside alerted him with the urgency of a house fire. “Damn you, Erika, I’m still talking to you.”
She lifted her chin, the defiant attitude clashing against the hurt in her eyes. He would have liked to think Randall put it there, but what kind of coward would that make him? Bringing up her ex had saddened her, and Emanuel was to blame. Frustration stung him bad.
“I thought you were done.”
“No.” He pulled her closer, snaking his arms around her waist until she gasped against him. The collision stiffened his muscles, his body quickly shifting into a mass of tension. His cock throbbed. “I tell you when I’m done.”