The Art of Retaliation Read Free Page A

eyes fall to the
seat to meet his body and his other hand that lay leisurely in his lap.   She remembered the strength she had felt
when he had caught her wrist.

 
    There was no ring, no marks of ownership, she'd made a mental note
despite being angry at herself and here she was doing
it again.   It was more important
that she find out where they were going and diverted her attention to the
sights out of her own window.   They
were going through some quaint old village that was surrounded by fields and
vast countryside that appeared to stretch to the ends of the earth.   She couldn’t understand why he had
brought her here and not stayed in Paris but the reason became evident as they
turned a corner and began to follow a single track road across a river.   She sat up and
strained to get a better look.   The
15 th century Chateau Albain stretched long
and wide in front of them.   It was a
white building with a smooth dark grey roof and two towers on situated at the
back of the main house on either side.   The billionaire’s home was illuminated displaying its grandeur and
elegance making Mara’s lips part, awed by the enchanting sight.

 
    “It’s beautiful,” she whispered under her breath.

 
    “I’m glad you like it, Mara.   You may be spending quite some time there.”

 
    She refused to acknowledge him or the bait for an argument he threw
her, too concerned with obtaining a better view.   They entered the chateau’s grounds
through the main gate and came to a halt outside the two sets of steps that led
up to the main on either side.

 
    Stepahne took hold
of Mara’s arm in a firm hold and led her from the car into the house, greeting
the butler warmly.   She heard the
billionaire request that he arrange for the women’s bags to be removed from the
cars and sent to their rooms.   He
led her in to a wide cream marble hallway flanked by pillars in the middle of
which sat a sweeping staircase covered in the centre by a plush red velvet carpet.

 
    “I see I am getting the red carpet treatment,” Mara laughed
sarcastically.

 
    He ignored the remark and pulled her towards the stairs.

 
    They stopped on the first floor and entered a large room overlooking
what looked like a moat at the back of the house.

 
    “This will be your room for the moment.   Try to make yourself comfortable.”

 
    Try to make yourself
comfortable?   You have to be
kidding.   This
luxury and a room with a view.   Not the prison cell I expected.

 
    Mara deliberately hardened her features annoyed at falling for the
charm the jail he had confined her in.

 
    “Yes I suppose it will have to do.”

 
    She cursed herself inwardly the moment the words came out of her
mouth.   She sounded like a petulant
child and she wanted to scream when she saw another smile on the man’s lips.

 
    Mara frowned and walked towards the window.   Although she wore a mask of disapproval
she couldn’t help feeling   at being put in the room.   Moving around the space she inspected
the paintings on the walls and ornaments she dared not pick up.

 
    She ran a gentle hand along the soft back of the sofa sitting in
front of a large white fireplace that was the highlight of the room.   A portrait of a young woman in 18 th century dress looked down at her from above it.

 
    ‘Who is she?’ Mara asked.

 
    Stephane moved
next to her causing her skin to prickle and flush.    She tried in vain to dismiss the
reaction reminding herself that she was his prisoner
and moved away from him.   Hadn’t she
learned anything from Ryan?   Men
were trouble, especially those who kidnapped you.

 
    “The Countess of Albain in 1642.”

 
    Mara stood fixed with a blank look on her face, careful not to
betray any emotion that would make him believe he had kidnapped her senses and self control .   But as she listened to the gentle French lilt wanting him to continue,
her resolve softened as though his voice was a