Heart in her throat, she stared at him. “Nick, am I still in danger?”
Chapter Five
Nick tensed. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”
“What does that mean?” Belle asked.
He hated lying to her, but hell, she’d been back in his life less than twenty-four hours and was already traumatized from what had happened to her. He tried for the middle ground. “I don’t want to alarm you, simply because I don’t have all the facts yet.”
“Facts on what?” she pressed.
“On what exactly we’re dealing with.”
Her soft lips pursed. “For God’s sake, Nick, stop being so damned cryptic! What’s going on?”
His hand tightened around his wine glass. “When my men looked around the caves, we found a few things we’re still working through.”
“What sort of things?”
Nick swallowed down the fury that rose every time he thought of it. “There was a room with pictures—lots of pictures—displayed. Of you.” He took a fortifying sip of wine.
Stunning blue eyes widened. “Of me? He had a few in another hut he took us to, but—you think I was his primary target?”
“I don’t think. I know you were.” His forceful answer made her pale. He cursed under his breath. “It’s over, pethi mou. No harm will come to you here.”
He glimpsed the naked relief in her eyes and told himself he was doing the right thing in withholding information that Mwana in all likelihood hadn’t given up his hunt for her. No need to scare her unnecessarily.
When she popped a piece of feta into her mouth, he breathed easier. “You didn’t say how you found me.”
“I applied the best intel and resources to the problem and achieved the desired result. Nothing else matters. Now, tell me, how’s the moussaka?”
“It’s delicious,” she responded automatically. He watched her take a few unenthusiastic mouthfuls, then she laid her fork down.
“Baklava?” He pushed the dessert toward her. She’d grown too thin in the last six months and lost some of the voluptuousness he’d loved about her. He decided to keep his thoughts to himself when she declined and opted for a cup of tea.
By now the sky was covered with a blanket of stars against a velvet background. She leaned back in her seat and gazed into the heavens. This far from civilization, the stars were clearly visible on a night like this. He knew she’d always found the island breathtakingly beautiful, but her sigh was far from contented.
“A penny for them?” he murmured, then wondered why he wished to know her thoughts when he was still reeling from the conversation they’d had just before dinner.
She lowered her eyes to his. His stomach clenched at the misery he saw in the depths.
“Keep your penny. My thoughts aren’t worth it. Not to you anyway.”
The words felt like knives piercing him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She set the cup down with a telling rattle. “It means if you’d cared about me at all, Nick, you wouldn’t have married me under false pretenses. And you certainly wouldn’t have stayed away for the last six months.”
She pushed back her chair and threw down her napkin.
Nick made a conscious effort to relax his fingers around the wineglass before he shattered it. Leaning back in his seat, he forced himself to stay put rather than go after her.
Watching her limp away from him, bristling and hurt, tested his willpower. But to go after her now would only yield further recrimination—and make shambles of their newly formed truce.
But her words cut deep. Did she have any idea of the torture he’d gone through when he’d found out she was missing, the relief he’d felt when he held her safe in his arms?
He cursed fluently under his breath. His plans to get his wife back in his life would take longer to execute than he’d anticipated.
Sighing, he looked up at the stars she’d gazed at a moment ago, seeking divine inspiration. The heavens just winked at him in mocking luminosity.