Hostage to Love (Entangled Suspense) by Maya Blake

of how he sounded first thing in the morning. As a newlywed, she’d blissfully lapped up the enchanting endearments he’d showered on her, like pethi mou —my little one—or glikia mou —my sweetheart. He’d proven she was none of those things to him. She needed to remember that memories like those were dangerous to her peace of mind.
    “Where are we?” she asked, trying to think through the sleepy fog and encroaching visions of the past.
    “Morocco,” he replied, kissing her temple softly.
    Averting her face to hide her body’s thrilled reaction at the touch of his lips, she murmured, “Okay.” She tried to pull away from his warmth, but her weakness prevented her from moving very far and stifled her protest as he carried her to a jump seat and buckled her in. Then, bunching up the blankets they’d used on the floor, he repositioned them so she could rest her ravaged feet on them.
    He took the seat next to her and put his arm round her shoulders, his chin nuzzling the top of her head.
    A few minutes later, the plane bounced once and settled on touch down.
    Tears prickled her eyes, and she blinked them away. She was safe. They were all safe .
    When the plane came to a halt, Nick gently removed his arm from around her.
    “Stay here for a minute. I need to talk to Alex and the men before we leave.”
    She nodded, too drained to wonder what he needed to speak to the men about. He returned a few minutes later and helped her up, just as two of the men came toward the door, carrying a pale Father Tom on a stretcher.
    “There you are, lass. I told you we’d be saved, didn’t I?” He took her hand and held on tight.
    “Yes, you did, Father, and you were right.” Tears gathered once more, and she swallowed them back.
    “I’m always right, lass,” he responded, prompting choked laughter from her. “Ah, no need for tears now, lassie. You’re almost home.” His eyes went from hers to Nick’s, and his expression turned serious. “Take care of her, you hear?”
    “I will.” Nick responded in a deep, resolute voice, and another shaft of pain speared through her. He’d said similar words on their wedding day, when he’d vowed to love and cherish her.
    But he hadn’t . Instead he’d tried to control her, to mold her into something she’d hated. The realization that she would’ve given in had he given her what she wanted—children—shamed her.
    She was stronger now. The scales had fallen from her eyes. There was no denying the skin-sizzling chemistry between them, but it would never be enough for her to give up what she’d fought so hard to achieve.
    The scent of spices and incense hit her nostrils when she descended the cargo plane, evoking thoughts of warm, sultry nights and lazy meals taken in secluded Bedouin tents.
    Oh, God! Would memories of her time with Nick ever cease?
    “You remember when we stopped over here on the way to South Africa last year? You wanted to see a camel up close, and I, of course, couldn’t convince you that they were best admired from afar unless you wanted to be spat on.” The warmth in his voice began to melt her insides.
    Did she remember? The three days they’d spent in the opulent tent in the middle of the Moroccan desert had been one of the most intense experiences of her life.
    “I remember it…vaguely,” she lied.
    Fighting the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, she drew away from him and concentrated on saying goodbye to the old man and Hendrik and Edda.
    She watched as all three were escorted to Alex’s jet, which stood beside Nick’s on the tarmac.
    With the same enigmatic look his cousin wore, Alex came toward them and spoke to Nick in Greek. At Nick’s response, Alex turned to her and kissed her on both cheeks.
    “Remember what I said about ass-kicking, glikia mou . Just say the word.”
    Belle could only summon a smile. She watched the men embrace and Alex stride to his waiting jet.
    After their plane took off, Nick turned to her. “Ready to