“And risk you trying to escape?”
“I don’t have a death wish.”
“Sure about that?”
“Quite sure. Also, I’m sure I’ve already mentioned my allergy to pain.” Turning her head, she smiled up at his set, handsome face. “I enjoy life, Mr Vicario, and I enjoy the body I inhabit. I like to feel the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. I like to dance. I like to hear music. I like the smell of books, flowers in bloom, freshly mown grass and grapes being crushed. I like the warmth that fills my chest and the fuzziness that fills my head from a glass of wine. I like knowing I’ve got my whole life aheadof me to enjoy more of these things and to learn and experience new scents and sensations, and I will never deliberately do anything that could stop my future unfolding as I so hope. If the worst happens and my cousin fails to comply with your demands and you then decide you have to kill me, at least I will have had this last week fully whole, fully myself and with all my senses working in harmony. So no. Dying is the last thing I want for me.”
A long silence followed Francesca’s little speech. The gorgeous dark chocolate eyes studied her speculatively until he gave a tight smile. “Wine makes your head fuzzy?”
She beamed.
“Then let’s open a bottle.”
Chapter Three
Gino pluckeda bottle of red from his vast collection and showed the label to his hostage. “Is this to your liking?”
She didn’t even look at it. “You’re a man of expensive taste. I’m sure I will like all your wines.”
Uncorking it, he poured them both a glass, wondering again how everything he’d envisaged had turned on its head.
When he’d formed his plans for holding Francesca for a week, he’d pictured himself spending his first evening having to coax a terrified woman into eating and drinking. He’d pictured her cowering whenever he got within three feet of her; envisaged himself constantly reassuring her that he wouldn’t harm her, that she had nothing to worry about, that it would all be over soon.
Never had he imagined he would crack open his wine collection within twenty minutes of bringing her into his home, especially as when they’d stepped into his apartment he’d imagined locking her in one of the bedrooms and carving a hole in the door to shove food and water through for her. Of course, this had just been dark imaginings, not something he would do, just as shoving her into the boot of his car had been nothing but dark imaginings. As infuriating as she was, he’d pledged to keepFrancesca from harm during her forced stay with him, and to do that, he needed to keep her close. If he could do something about her mouth, then life would certainly be easier for him, and so he’d hit on her mention of wine making her head fuzzy. Let her drink all the wine she wanted!
She took a small sip.
He raised an eyebrow in question.
“It’s good.”
“Good?”
“Nice.”
“I thought you were a wine connoisseur, Miss Marino.”
She grinned. “I’m a tour guide, Mr Vicario.”
“For wine tourists.”
“I’ve only been working at the chateau for two weeks. The tourists know more about wine than I do. I’ve been taught all the right things to say, but really, when it comes down to it, does it matter what hints of cherry or whatever a wine has? For me, and I would say for most people, the only question is whether the wine tastes nice. This wine is nice.”
“I’m glad you approve. Are you hungry?”
Her pretty light brown eyes sparkled with amusement. “Wineandfood? If I didn’t know better, I would think this a date.”
He fixed her with a stare that, in normal people, would wipe the smile from their faces. His hostage only laughed.
Filling his lungs with needed air, he turned and headed to the kitchen. He didn’t need to check that she was following him. He could hear the light tread of her footsteps behind him, despite the clumpiness of her shoes.
“Nice kitchen,” she commented. “Have you locked the knives away?”
“I thought you were allergic to pain.”
“Yes, but as far as I’m aware, you’re not.” She said this with such sweet matter-of-factness that he came within a breath of laughing.
Removing the lasagne from the fridge, he looked at her. “Would you even know what to do with a knife if you were able to use one on me?”
