Love Captive Read Online Free Page A

not believe in true love," he remarked, and his hands dropped from holding her arms.
    Swinging away, again taking the lantern, he started down the side of the boat, motioning for her to follow. They traversed a narrow passageway until they reached some stairs. After they'd descended the stairs, Carlos clicked on a light and led Anne into a small cabin.
    Glancing around, Anne noticed that the cabin was beautifully appointed, with warm polished wood almost everywhere. There were double-decker beds against one wall, a closet, a half-open door leading into a washroom. In the center of the room there was a small table with four chairs. Carlos motioned her to one of the chairs.
    "Are you hungry? This isn't my boat, as I've mentioned, but there's surely food in the galley with which I can make us a snack. Or a cup of coffee perhaps?"
    "I'd love some coffee, thank you," Anne murmured, still feeling wistfully sad over the kiss that they had almost shared.
    Excusing himself, Carlos left the cabin. Anne went into the washroom. She worked to repair her makeup and combed her straight, shoulder-length hair until it shone. She stepped back into the cabin just as Carlos returned holding a mug of steaming coffee in each hand.
    Without speaking, he placed the two mugs down on the table and seated himself. Again Anne watched in fascination at how elegantly graceful his movements were. He picked up his mug in both hands, blew off steam, and began to sip. "Ah, just right," he murmured with a quick little smile. "Hot and strong. I hope that's how you like it too."
    "Yes, thank you, I do." Anne seated herself across from him and, picking up her mug in both hands, began to sip too. Over the rim of her mug she looked directly at Carlos. His dark eyes circled up to meet her pale blue ones. They sat for several moments looking intently at each other, then, frowning, Carlos lowered his eyes and his mug.
    "You're a very pretty girl, Anne McCullough, a real American beauty. I suppose that means that your brother is a remarkably handsome man. And my foolish young sister, delighted with your brother's appearance, can't distinguish between physical infatuation and proper affection, which stems from a common background and heritage. And on this superficial, fleeting feeling of physical attraction, she stupidly thinks she can build a marriage."
    "Which lots of people manage to do!" Anne replied heatedly, stung by Carlos's words. "Some American marriages end in divorce, I grant you that, but that doesn't mean that most of them do. And for two people to marry for any reason other than love is—is exploitative and opportunistic!"
    "Well, well," Carlos answered, flipping out a coolly contemptuous smile. "Those are strong words. Exploitative and opportunistic, you say? If I had a fortune-hunting scoundrel of a brother, I don't believe I'd use those words quite so glibly and freely. The one way my sister Dolores can protect herself from being exploited, from being married for her name and fortune, is by marrying a man whose position and fortune are equal to hers. If anyone is an opportunist, it is your brother, not I."
    Anne blinked against sudden hot tears. She knew she had been bested in the exchange, but still she couldn't resist continuing the argument. "You just absolutely refuse to believe that the two of them fell sincerely in love, don't you? You just won't admit that that's what happened. That my brother Michael might be, and is, a wonderful young man fully deserving of your sister's love, and that Dorrie, far from being duped, knows exactly what she wants and what she is doing. That possibility absolutely escapes you, doesn't it?"
    Carlos eyed her steadily with a scornful little smile. "Yes, I admit that that possibility strikes me as completely absurd." He stood up, black eyes arrogantly fixed on her pale face. "As completely absurd, in fact, as any notion that you and I, for instance—well, you see what I mean." He turned and left the cabin, leaving her