'Rape? That wasn't the way I heard it. According to Olivia you asked for everything you got.'
'That isn't true!'
'No? You'll be telling me next that you didn't know he wanted you!'
'I ... I knew.' The quiet words were little more than a whisper. She wasn't going to tell him how Olivia had tricked her, let him think what he liked. She didn't care!
'You knew, and yet you deliberately paraded around in front of him like that?' The harsh, almost flat tone of his voice made her flinch from the bitter cynicism. 'What did you think he was?' he asked angrily. 'One of your tame society escorts? Well, let me enlighten you. To call Guido an animal is doing the jungle kingdom an injustice; you'd be nearer to the mark describing him as a disciple of the Marquis de Sade. However, I'm not naive, I know quite well that some women find that type of man a turn-on.' He watched Saffron shudder deeply and paused. 'Okay, so you're not one of them, but you're experienced enough to know and recognise the type, and knowing, you shouldn't have encouraged him.'
Encouraged him! Tears spurted and she couldn't stop them. 'I didn't!' she told him stormily.
'No?' He grimaced sardonically. 'That's not the way I heard it. You know damn well what effect the sight of your half naked body was likely to have—a man would have to be made of stone not to be turned on by it, and yet you still flaunt yourself...'
'Flaunt!' She forget the pain from her wound, and struggled to sit upright. 'I was bathing in the river; I thought Olivia was on the bank
. And at least I wasn't parading around completely nude,' she finished in a final exhausting burst of anger which left her face pale and her body trembling with delayed reaction. 'Or doesn't it count when the boot's on the other foot?'
For a moment the gleaming look of amusement in his eyes reminded her of how he had looked the night they met.
'So . ..' he said softly, 'I thought it was you this morning. However, in answer to your question and in my own defence, all I can say is that as yet no woman has been able to commit rape against a man. When that happens you will know that we have true equality of the sexes, but until it does you will simply have to accept the status quo, and the fact that no, it doesn't count.'
It was on the tip of Saffron's tongue to point out to him, as Olivia had drummed into her at every opportunity, that one of the main aims of his organisation was to enforce total equality, but, not for the first time, it struck her that whereas the others never lost an opportunity of singing the praises and parroting the commandments of their organisation, Nico rarely mentioned politics or tried to indoctrinate her as the others had done with their beliefs. In fact in many ways he seemed to remain aloof from his companions. A sudden hole in the road sent her jolting against him, and pain stabbed through her, the thought slipping away as she tried to concentrate on remaining conscious.
CHAPTER SIX
The cut seeped blood spasmodically all the way to the small town. Nico drove fast but expertly, and although the ancient Land Rover was a far different means of transport from the elegant Mercedes he had hired the first time he had taken her out, as they took the coast road past the villa, Saffron was reminded unbearably of that occasion and the tremulous emotions she had experienced.
All those tender feelings were now dead, trampled underfoot by reality. Once or twice Saffron contemplated throwing herself bodily from the vehicle, but the weakening loss of blood, combined with the strong pressure of Nico's fingers on her arm, acted as a powerful deterrent. The front of his borrowed shirt was now bright scarlet with blood, and she was beginning to feel lightheaded by the time they drove into the small dusty town, so typically Italian with its narrow streets and tall tenement buildings, strewn with lines of washing, grandmothers sitting outside open doors watching over babies, undisturbed by the noise of the Land Rover.
Saffron's heart sank as they drove into what was plainly a poorer part of the town. She had been hoping to warn the doctor that she was being held captive against her will, but these hopes were dashed when Nico pulled up outside a faded stucco building, paint peeling from the walls.
'Dr Michello was once an excellent surgeon, but unfortunately, he started to drink. If you are thinking of enlisting his aid, let me dissuade you. I shall tell him that you are my wife and your "wound" is the result of a marital tiff. Italy is still very much a male-orientated society; whatever you say to him after that will be discounted as purely female hysteria, even if he is sober enough to understand it. And you'd better put this on,' he added, handing her a lightweight blouson jacket the same shade of grey as his eyes. When he saw how she had to struggle, he helped her on with it as though she were a child, carefully tugging the zip fastener upwards, his knuckled brushing her breasts accidentally and sending strange quivers of sensation shooting through her. She had been colder than she realised and the warmth of the jacket was welcome, especially when she discovered that Nico's prediction concerning the doctor was correct.
He deliberately hurried her past the waiting women, holding her against him so that she was aware of the gun he was concealing beneath his jacket, interrupting the doctor, who was in the middle of talking to one of his patients.
At Nico's insistence they were shown into a shabby treatment room, and Saffron was told to remove her shirt.
She gave Nico a speaking look, and obligingly he turned his back, while the doctor made a surprisingly thorough examination.
'Umm—a clean cut, by the looks of it, and not too deep. I shall give you some ointment to put on it and some pills to take.' He wrote out a prescription which he handed to Nico and then said jovially to Saffron, 'Next time, be nicer to him, mm?'
She had expected Nico to drive back once they had collected the prescription, but to her surprise he parked the Land Rover outside a small hotel, keeping a tight grip on her arm as he helped her out.
'We will stay overnight,' he told her. 'We can make the recording to send to your father, and get Doctor Michello to check on your wound in the morning.'
'Aren't you frightened I might try to escape?' she asked him bitterly, 'with only one of you to guard me?'
'How could you?' His calm infuriated her. 'You have no money, no passport, where would you go? To the police?' He laughed. 'I don't think so.' He patted the slight bulge beneath his jacket meaningfully as they entered the hotel, and still maintaining his grip of her arm approached the desk.
Saffron heard him book a double room in frozen silence, her mind frantically running in exhausting circles trying to seek a means of turning the situation to her advantage. She heard him give his name and then realised that he was passing her off as his wife. She glared at him indignantly, whispering furiously as he manoeuvred her towards the stairs,
'I'm not sharing a room with you ... I hate you!'
'Don't be naive.' The bored voice was edged with impatience. 'And do not start confusing me with Guido.' She coloured hotly as his disparaging glance slid over her from head to toe. She was still wearing his shirt, as well as his jeans, her hair was clean, but still framed her face in ragged wisps, her skin completely devoid of any make-up.
'No, I suppose you'd prefer Olivia,' she agreed nastily.
His eyebrows rose. 'Would I? Why?'