my parents. They can finally rest in peace.
And he, too, could rest now—rest from the infinite pursuit of more and yet more money, so that he could forge the weapon that would finally bring down his enemy.
Now his whole life stretched ahead of him.
He had been wondering what he should do with it, but suddenly his expression changed, softened.
In the long years of amassing his fortune, closing the net on his enemy, he had had only fleeting affairs with women who had only wanted that. Affairs that had been merely a brief respite from the dark, driven purpose of his life. Affairs that had not lasted.
I wasn’t free to do anything else.
But now his long, gruelling task was accomplished, and there was nothing to keep him from finding for himself a woman who could transform his life, who could join him as he journeyed towards the bright, sunlit future that beckoned to him.
And he had found her! Instinct told him she was the one.
He drew her close, grazing her cheek with his mouth, feeling her stir in his arms. He felt a stirring in himself, too, of the desire that had burned between them—the desire that they had slaked with mutual urgency when they had left the party and he’d brought her back here to his hotel suite.
They had dined on food from room service and drunk yet more champagne. They had talked of he knew not what—except he knew that it had not been about themselves. It had been with ease and familiarity, and with a ready laughter that had seemed to spring naturally and spontaneously, as if they had known each for so much longer than a bare few hours.
And he had found her on the very night that he had finally avenged his parents by accomplishing his enemy’s total destruction. He had wanted this night to be special, so that it would mark the start of his new life—the life he’d never been able to claim for himself until now—and now he knew exactly how he wanted this wonderful new life to be.
It would be spent with this woman, and this woman alone...
He felt a shuddering wonder at having found her at such a moment. He grazed her cheek again, softly and sensuously, emotion filling him. She stirred again in her exhausted sleep of passion spent, her arm around his waist tightening instinctively. His mouth moved from her cheek to her parted lips, feathering their tender contours. He felt her waking, and as he trailed a hand over the sweet mound of her breast he felt her nipple crest beneath his palm and his arousal strengthened, quickening his responsive flesh. Desire surged in him and he knew that he wanted to possess her again—to be possessed again.
His kiss deepened and she responded to him, her eyes fluttering open, full of wonder and full of desire. Full of a hunger that he was only too happy to share and sate. His body moved over hers and he murmured her name, caressing her soft, slender body, parting her slackening thighs as her arms wound around his spine. She was whispering his name, drowning in his kisses...
This second time was as glorious as the first—each reaching their climax with a shuddering intensity that swept them away in the ultimate union, an absolute fusing of their bodies. And afterwards, hearts still thudding, breathing ragged, he held her against him, her body trembling in the aftermath of ecstasy.
With a hand that was not entirely steady he smoothed back her hair. He smiled at her, his eyes lambent. But there was a seriousness in his voice behind the smile. ‘You know this can’t just be one night?’
Her eyes searched his. ‘How can it be anything else?’
Her voice was troubled, and he needed to set her mind at rest. ‘Do you not see how special this is? This night is only the start of what we shall have together.’ He swooped a sudden kiss upon her mouth. ‘Come with me. Come with me today—straight away, this morning!’
For an instant that troubled look was in her eye, and then, as if consciously banished, it was gone.
‘Where to?’ she cried out, half in humour, half in an emotion he could not name.
‘Anywhere we want. Name somewhere you want to go. Anywhere at all.’
She laughed now, catching his eagerness. ‘The Caribbean!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve never been in all my life!’
‘Done!’ He gave an answering laugh. ‘Now all you have to do is choose the island.’ He rolled onto his back, wrapping one arm around her shoulders, the other across her flank. ‘There are a thousand to choose from—we can explore them all!’
He heard her laugh again, and then he was cradling her cheek with his hand.
‘Come with me.’ His voice was different now. Serious. Intense. ‘Come with me.’
His eyes met hers, held them. She was still gazing up at him, and the troubled look had found a home there once more.
Could she not believe that he was serious? That this was no idle banter?
He drifted his hand languorously across her silken flank and felt her stomach tauten at his sensuous touch. ‘Let me persuade you,’ he said huskily.
Emotion was welling up in him, as powerful as the desire building in him again. Words shaped in his mind.
I will not lose her—not now. I will not.
It was his last conscious thought as passion was rekindled between them, consuming all in its heat.
I will not lose her...
* * *
Luke stirred. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He reached out his arm, feeling only cold sheets. His eyes flared open, going immediately to the en suite bathroom door. It was standing open, no one inside. His eyes swept the room.
No Talia.
And no handbag, no shoes, no jacket, no dress. No discarded underwear slipped from her eager body as he’d taken her to his bed, to sate himself on her and change his life for ever...
No trace of her existence.
Except the note propped on the desk.
Face stark, he got up and walked towards it. Something was tightening around his guts, like a boa constrictor throwing its coils around him to crush the life from him.
Luke—I have to go. I didn’t want to wake you.
That was it. Nothing else. For a long moment he just stared at it as the breath was crushed from his lungs. Then, wordlessly, he screwed it up and dropped it into the bin.
He walked into the en suite bathroom refusing to feel a single emotion.
TALIA SAT IN the back of the taxi, staring at her phone. It was signalling a low battery, and she was glad of it in a cowardly way. Her brain was not working properly. It seemed to be split in two, and neither side would connect with the other. She was still with Luke, folded against his body, dreaming of Caribbean islands.
Islands to escape to...islands to set me free...
Free from what her eyes were forcing into her head as she reread her mother’s repeated pleading texts.
Darling, phone me! You must phone me. You absolutely must!
She could not face making the call. Yet fear was biting at her out of nowhere. Her mother had never sounded so desperate...
But before she phoned her she must get to her flat, set her phone to charge and then shower—wash Luke from her. And she must change into her day clothes—what she thought of as her prison clothes.
A shaft of anguish pierced her. She silenced it. She had to. There was no choice but to bury it way down deep. Her prison door had opened—but for a fleeting moment only. Now it was slammed shut again and that fear