'What's the matter? Too soft for honest-to-goodness work?' Guido jeered as she paused without stretching, his eyes lingering lasciviously on the rounded outline of her breasts.
The other three members of the gang were constantly taunting her, but Saffron had quickly learned to shut herself off from their gibes, although a deep inborn instinct warned her to be wary with Guido. Olivia seemed to deliberately throw the two of them together, and pride alone prevented Saffron from correcting her when she implied to Nico that Saffron had spent most of the day with her.
In many ways she would have preferred to remain shut up in her prison, but Nico insisted that she spend the day outside in the fresh air, exercising her limbs. She couldn't understand why, Saffron reflected cynically. She was convinced now that she would never leave the farmhouse alive. Every day Nico had driven into town waiting for news from her father. They had given him a week to raise the ransom, and five days of that week were already gone. Saffron had tried on several occasions to imagine her father's state of mind, the anxiety he must be going through, his frantic attempts to raise the cash, but her world had become bounded by her guards, speculation about what was happening outside her prison too painful to be endured for very long.
Olivia had killed one of the scraggy chickens that scratched around the farmhouse and Saffron had casseroled it as best she could. It smelled quite appetising when she and Guido walked into the farmhouse. Nico was sitting down reading a newspaper, Olivia beside him, arms twined round him. He looked up and Saffron looked away immediately, her mouth tightening.
'Your father at least shows some sense,' Nico commented. 'There is nothing in the papers about your disappearance, merely a small item in one of the London gossip columns to the effect that you are holidaying with friends.'
His smile mocked and infuriated her, but Saffron refused to respond. She started, to walk towards the stairs and had almost reached them when he stretched out a hand and grasped her wrist. Saffron tensed, her glance drawn unwilling to meet his, their eyes clashing. Beneath the thin cotton shirt he was wearing she could see the dark crispness of his body hair. Something stirred inside her, alien and unwanted, and she pulled tensely away, desperate to escape the proximity of his body.
'Where are you going?'
'To my room.'
How childish it sounded; petulant and sulky, almost.
'Why?'
His voice was cool, the word silky, but an atavistic apprehension shuddered down her spine.
'Because I want to be alone,' she retorted flippantly. 'Any objections?'
'Let her go, Nico,' Olivia urged. 'She cannot escape, and wouldn't try.' Her mouth curled contemptuously. 'She is too soft to know how to. All her life she has used her father's money and name to open doors for her; so much so that she is incapable now of opening them for herself.'
That's not true! The words formed in her mind but were never spoken. Pride kept her silent, and honesty compelled her to admit that a year ago Olivia could have had good grounds for flinging the accusations at her.
'Nico!'
Piero's anxious undertone call from outside brought Olivia and Guido out of their chairs, and -Nico released Saffron's arm as he hurried to the door.
Saffron caught the word 'police' and her heart leapt with hope. Could they be looking for her? Had Maria reported her absence and had the police realised what might have happened to her? If only she could attract their attention in someway!
Tension filled the shabby farmhouse as the police vehicle bumped along the narrow track. The guns normally so much in evidence were put out of sight, only Guido playing warningly with the knife he always carried. Her mouth dry, Saffron heard the vehicle stop and then the sound of voices.
The door was thrust open and two men in uniform strode in, their eyes inspecting the shabby room.
'You have not been here very long?' one of them questioned, Nico who was lounging casually in front of her, but between her and the police, Olivia had slipped upstairs, and Nico had warned Saffron that were she to attempt to escape both she and the police would be shot down as they left. Saffron knew he was not exaggerating, but she couldn't let the opportunity pass without some attempt to alert the police.
'I inherited the farm from my uncle,' Nico explained. 'It is run down, but we hope to set it to rights.'
'You are not from round these parts?'
Again Nico shrugged. 'From Roma,' he told them, 'but I prefer the country to the city, as do my brothers.'
The man's eyes were on Saffron as his companion drifted round the room.
'Your sister?' he questioned Nico.
Blessing the fact that she could understand and speak Italian, Saffron interjected quickly, 'No, I...'
'She is my wife,' Nico answered quickly, moving backwards, his arm coming round Saffron's tense shoulders in apparent affection. Only she was aware of the biting grasp of the fingers bruising her flesh and the warning flare in the smoke-grey eyes.
'Will you stay and eat with us?'
Refusing, the two men headed towards the door. Saffron moved frantically in the constricting circle of Nico's arm, praying that one of them would turn and see her distress, but although one of them hesitated, neither of them turned. Guido walked to their vehicle with the
m and as she listened to the fading voices a terrible enervating sickness filled her. Her final hope was gone, and total lethargic depression possessed her.