She struggled, kicking at him, but with bare feet she really could do no damage against his muscular body. And her upper body was pinned, since he’d wrapped an arm tight around her chest.
He moved to the phone at the side of his bed. He pushed one number, obviously the ship’s captain, because he gave an order and directions to get moving.
They were headed to Sicily, not back to Malta.
Which made no difference to her. Once they reached land, she had a chance to get away. And she could get lost more easily in Sicily.
She stopped struggling, figuring she’d save her energy and bide her time, and soon enough she’d get away from Dalton.
With her mother’s diary.
She was smart and resourceful, and while she’d made a critical error in trusting Dalton, it could have happened to anyone. He flashed his money and power-his friendliness and a chance at making a connection with someone-at her when she’d really needed it, and she’d been stupid enough to fall for his lies.
Remorse hit her straight in the belly as the boat headed away from the dive spot. She’d been so close to finding what she’d been looking for.
Then again she’d spent her entire life searching for. . something. She’d never been able to figure out what that “something” was.
Maybe it hadn’t been treasure after all.
Maybe it had been her identity.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They were loading up the car when Ryder got a phone call.
Angelique froze and tried to listen to the voice on the other end. When Ryder hung up, he turned to her.
“Dalton’s bringing Isabelle. We’ll meet them.”
“I thought you said it was a bad idea to get us together?”
“Change of plans.”
Weird, but she wasn’t going to question it. Not if the end result was seeing her sister. “Okay. Where?”
“Near Catania. On the northeast side.”
Angelique zinged with trepidation. “Is Isabelle all right?”
“She’s fine.”
They climbed in the car and Ryder headed out. They were a few hours away, and she couldn’t contain her excitement at seeing her sister again. But she wondered why now, and especially when Ryder was so adamant earlier about keeping them apart.
“Something is wrong. What is it?”
“Your sister is pissed. And something happened. We figure you can help.”
“What is she upset about?”
“Don’t know. Something about your mother’s diary and some secrets your mom wrote in there. Dalton found it and read it. He didn’t go into detail, just said there’s some serious shit in it.”
“Secrets? Secrets about what?”
“He didn’t say.”
Dammit. She didn’t know Mother had kept a diary. And how did Isabelle get hold of it? And more important, why wouldn’t Izzy tell her about it? If there was something upsetting in the diary, why wouldn’t her sister confide in her?
She needed to talk to Isabelle as soon as possible. And see that diary. She was dying to know what was in it that was so earth-shattering.
After several hours in the car-an utterly silent drive, since her mind was preoccupied with questions-they arrived at a charming city on the outskirts of Catania. She barely had a moment to bask in the stunning verdant sloping hillsides, crystal blue water, and ancient, Baroque architecture before Ryder careened around a corner and headed up a narrow path, effectively blocking her view of the gorgeous city.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Up.”
“So not helpful.” Especially since she couldn’t see anything except steep, narrow road and clustered housing.
She finally had to stop trying to look around because the road really was heading. . up. She was plastered against the back of the seat and could do nothing but lean her head against the neck rest and look to the sky, which seemed to be getting closer with every mile.
Ryder finally cleared the small road and tightly packed houses and turned left where the road began to curve. They were still going up and at a steep pace. They seemed to be headed toward a magnificent-looking castle ruin.
“Are we going there?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Damn. Her blood stirred, excitement fueling her veins with a rush of adrenaline. Despite her worry for her sister, the archaeologist in her was chomping at the bit for a chance to explore the castle.
“Are you sure we can get on the property? We’re not going to be breaking in or anything, are we?”
“Trust me, we won’t be breaking in.”
The castle was isolated at the top of a hill, nothing around it but sheer cliffs-a perfect point of protection against ancient enemies. By the time Ryder slowed down and nearly crawled the car through the narrow stone wall entrance, Angelique wanted to leap out and run to the front door. She was dying to get inside. Her love for ancient ruins had taken front and center in her mind.
“This is breathtaking,” she said as he drove the long curved path-more crushed stones than road, really-that led them to the thick door.
“Uh-huh.” He put the car in park.
She turned to look at him. “Oh, come on. Even you have to admit this castle is pretty cool.”
“It’ll do as a point of protection against anyone trying to get us. But then again, you and I both know demons can get at us from anywhere. So we’ll see.”
“Ugh. You’re no fun. Where’s your love of history?”
“I never had a love of history. Ask Mrs. McCann.”
“Who’s Mrs. McCann?”
“My high school World History teacher. I got a C minus.”
“C minus? You suck.”
He snorted and got out of the car. Angelique did the same, helping him unload. As they did, the front door opened and she whirled around, hoping they wouldn’t find demons standing there.
Instead, a familiar face greeted her. At least she thought she’d seen him before. Deadly handsome, with short, spiky dirty blond hair and an Australian accent.
“ ’Bout time you got here, mate.”
Ryder looked up and quirked a smile. “Hey, Trace. How are you enjoying Italy?”
Trace wrinkled his nose. “Not enough desert. Too much culture. Too pretty. Needs more dust.”
Ryder laughed and turned to Angelique. “You remember Trace?”
She nodded. “Yes. From our time in Australia.”
“I remember you, too, gorgeous. Still as pretty as ever.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Ryder grumbled, brushing past Trace as they made their way into the hall of the castle.
“Staked your claim already, did you?” Trace asked, lifting the bag from Angelique’s hands.
“No. Just. . don’t.”
“Oooh, I think he’s got a thing for you, honey,” Trace said to her with a quick wink.