Wife By Deception. Donna Sterling
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or Camryn—but the fear itself had scarred them both.
Kate would always be wary of quiet-talking, angry men.
“Well?” His tawny brows drew together in an impatient frown. “What have you been doing with Arianne?”
The very depth of her fear tripped some internal switch of Kate’s. Imprisoned though she was, she wouldn’t give in to the terror. She had to fight as she always had—by keeping in mind who she was and where she intended to go in life. She was no longer a helpless, parentless child in a world controlled by strangers, but a respected member of her community, a well-esteemed educator, whose word in court would carry considerable weight. She would fight her fear by keeping her wits about her, by using those wits against her captor until she knew enough about him to be sure of finding Arianne.
Straightening her spine, she gazed at him in her most quelling manner, the one that set wayward students to stuttering. “First you tell me…where have you sent Arianne?”
He stared at her in some surprise. Had he frightened Camryn so badly that she’d stopped talking back to him? Afraid that it might be so, Kate braced herself for a physical blow.
“You don’t need to know where she is,” he finally replied, his tone curt now rather than soft.
“Then you don’t need to know where she’s been.”
A muscle flexed in his lean jaw, but he remained exactly as he’d been, in a deceptively casual pose with his arm resting on the back of her seat. The silence spun out into a long, tense standoff.
“If you really care about her, though,” Kate added, “you do need to be aware of her dietary requirements.”
“Dietary requirements?” he repeated in blank amazement, as if he’d never heard the term but found it fascinating.
“It means there are certain foods she can’t—”
“I know what it means. I’m just surprised you do.” His eyes had narrowed on her in a searching look that told her he hadn’t meant the retort as an insult; he clearly was surprised that she’d used the term.
She saw then what she’d missed before—the keen intelligence in his eyes. Its magnitude startled her. She’d assumed that he, like the other men in Camryn’s life, had more brawn than brains.
He was absolutely right. Camryn wouldn’t have worded the concept quite that way. In fact, she probably wouldn’t have given the subject itself more than a passing thought.
Kate compressed her lips in self-annoyance. To succeed in this impersonation, she’d have to stay in character. “I’m just telling you what the doctor said. Arianne has digestive prob—uh, stomachaches when she eats the wrong foods. It took a while, but we figured out the ones she can and can’t eat.”
“Like what?”
At least he’d bought the explanation, it seemed. Which had, after all, been true. Now she had to concentrate on finding clues to who was keeping the baby. Anxiety over Arianne’s welfare clawed at her insides. “I’d rather talk to whoever is taking care of her.”
“You’ll speak to me. No one else.”
She shrugged, glanced away and adopted Camryn’s most vacuous look. She hoped he couldn’t detect the concern radiating from her heart like solar power.
“What can’t she eat, Camryn?” Annoyance resounded in his deep, gruff voice.
She pursed her lips in the provocative way Camryn would to signify a secret she was keeping.
His jaw shifted; his gaze hardened. Perhaps he did care about Arianne, in his own twisted way. He probably viewed her as a prized possession—a trophy in his war with Camryn.
Kate wondered if he would resort to violence now. She’d sensed his temper rising.
After a long, disgruntled stare, though, he drew a cell phone from his pocket and punched in a number. His tone, when he spoke, was brusque. “How is she?”
Kate watched as he listened, her heart picking up speed. She desperately wanted to know the answer to that question. His rugged, angular face gave nothing away. She envisioned gangsterlike characters dealing with her sweet, frightened baby. She prayed that they’d be gentle. Caring. Competent…please, God…
“Have you fed her yet?” he asked into the phone.
Kate strained to hear the reply. She thought she heard peals of distress. Like a baby crying…Mama-Mama!
Her restraint broke, and she turned to Mitch imploringly. “Please bring her to me! She won’t understand why I’m not there. Seeing only strangers will scare her.”
“You’re not getting your hands on her again.”
“You don’t really care about her at all, do you? If she’s given milk-based formula, she’ll get sick. She’ll be in misery all night.”
“Don’t give her milk,” he uttered into the phone.
“Soy-based formula,” she stressed, and emphatically named a particular brand. “And no baby foods with spices, preservatives or added sugar. I feed her only fresh fruits and vegetables that I puree myself.” Her throat cramped; her eyes misted. “She likes sweet potatoes, and…c-carrots.” Turning her face away from him, she croaked in a half whisper, “And pears.”
Determinedly she fought against the tears. She would not cry in front of him.
“Sweet potatoes, carrots and pears,” he repeated into the phone. “And fix ’em yourself. You know—with a blender.” After a moment, he continued, “Of course you’ll have to wait till you get home to do that. Until then, give her soy formula and, uh, crackers or something. Without salt or preservatives. I’m counting on you, Joey.”
Joey. Mitch’s accomplice was named Joey. Whoever he was, she couldn’t imagine him caring for the baby with the same nurturing tenderness that she herself would. She hated to imagine anything less. Anguished, she stared out the window at the blur of roadside forest whizzing by.
After he’d ended his conversation with the mysterious Joey, Mitch muttered, “Now you know how I felt for six whole months.”
She refused to believe him. He had no heart.
“But then, this is probably just another grand performance of yours to win my sympathy,” he said. “Don’t waste your time. I’m not about to let you go, or give you access to my daughter.”
Horrible man!
“If you really cared about her,” he continued, “you wouldn’t have deprived her of a father, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.”
Kate tightened her lips in dismay. Grandparents, aunt, uncles, cousins? She’d never considered the possibility that Mitch had a family. It somehow made him seem more human. It also triggered an age-old response in her that she couldn’t help—envy. A family with parents and siblings was, to her, an unattainable dream.
She had to remind herself that the simple fact of having a family didn’t make this man a worthy father. He’d forced his way into her home. Kidnapped her. Kept her in chains. She had no trouble believing he’d abused Camryn and the baby.
If he had, he’d deserved every miserable minute of his six months’ worth of anxiety. Assuming, of course, that he’d felt any. This kidnapping could just as easily stem from a sick desire to control his wife.
And as far as his family went, they were probably at the root of his antisocial behavior. She’d do everything she could to get Arianne away from him. As soon as she figured out how. She had to think, think, think!
The first logical step would be to learn his full name and where he lived. A peek at his driver’s license would certainly help. Could she possibly lift his wallet? She’d never tried to pick a pocket before.
And she couldn’t try now with