Behind her back she could feel the hard panels of the door pressing into her. Nowhere to run; nowhere to hide.
Caught red-handed in possession of stolen property. A ruby bracelet worth untold tens of thousands of pounds!
And the only way to clear her name would be to incriminate Jenny.
I can’t! I can’t do that! Whatever happens, I’ve got to keep her out of it!
But even as the resolution went through her she felt fear buckle. It was all very well to say something like that, but if she took the can for appropriating the bracelet it would be her the police sirens would sound for, her the jail would beckon—and her career would be left in tatters.
Oh God—please, no!
Leo was looking at her, just looking. There was nothing in his face. Nothing at all.
Then, softly, he spoke.
‘What shall I do with you? My instinct is to hand you over to the police, to hear the prison doors clang shut on you. And yet…’
He paused. His dark, expressionless eyes rested on her.
Into the silence Anna spoke, each word cut from her. ‘What’s the point of getting the police involved? You’ve got the bracelet back. No damage done.’
She was speaking for Jenny; she knew she was. Jenny had acted out of desperation, not greed. Pregnancy did things to you—to your head—and, terrified as Jenny was of the man who had done it to her, the balance of her mind had tipped for a few short, fatal moments. It had been an impulse—desperate, insane—to slip the bracelet into her shoe…
She saw his face change.
‘You steal—from me—and think no damage done?’ His voice was like a thin, deadly blade.
‘Well, there isn’t, is there?’ She made herself give a shrug. Instinctively she knew she had to hide her fear from him. It would show him her vulnerability, and that was something she must never, never show to Leo Makarios.
Another line of defence came to her, and she lifted her chin defiantly. ‘Besides, I can’t imagine you’d welcome the publicity that would arrive with the police. You’re supposed to be getting good publicity from this launch bash—not bad! And it would make your security precautions look pretty pathetic—having some of your precious Levantsky jewels walk off from out under your very nose.’
Even as she spoke she wished she had never said a word. Something was changing in his face again, and it was sending icy fingers down her spine.
He fingered the bracelet, looking across at her, leaning his hips back against the edge of his desk.
‘How very astute of you, Ms Delane,’ he said. His voice was soft, but it raised the hair on the nape of her neck. ‘I would indeed prefer not to make this incident—official. Which is why—’ his eyes rested on her ‘—I am prepared to allow you to make your…reparation…for your crime privately, rather than at the expense of the taxpayer.’
Something crawled in her stomach.
‘What—what do you mean?’
‘Let’s just say…’ he answered—and his voice still had an edge in it that was drawing along her skin like a blade—‘…that I am giving you a choice. I can hand you over to the police—or I can keep you in personal custody until such time as I think you have made sufficient…amends.’ His eyes held hers. ‘Which is it to be?’
She swallowed. Her heart was thumping in hard, heavy slugs.
‘What do you mean?’ Her voice was faint. She wanted it to sound defiant, but it didn’t.
Leo Makarios smiled. It was the smile of a wolf that had its prey in its clutches. Her stomach clenched. His eyelids swept down over his eyes, the lashes long and lustrous.
‘Oh, I think you know, Ms Delane. I think you know.’ For a long moment he held her gaze, telling her in that exchange just exactly what he had in mind as reparation.
She felt a shiver go through her.
It was revulsion. It had to be.
It had to be.
A sharp breath rasped in her throat.
‘No!’ It was instinct—pure survival instinct—that made the word break from her.
He raised an eyebrow.
‘No? Are you sure about that, Ms Delane? Have you, I wonder…’ his voice was conversational, but it screamed along Anna’s nerves ‘…ever been in prison? You’re a very beautiful woman, as you know—exceptionally so. And I’m sure that it isn’t just men who find you so. In prison, for example, there will be inmates who—’
‘No!’
It was fear this time. Naked and bare.
Just for an instant something showed in Leo Makarios’s eyes. Something that did not fit what he was taunting her with. Then it was gone. In its place was merely that cold, scarily level regard.
‘No? Then, given the choice, which will you make, hmm?’
Her face convulsed. ‘Choice? You’re not giving me a choice!’
Anger showed like a flash of lightning in his features.
‘You think you deserve one? Thee mou, you’re a thief! A thief. You stole from me! You had the audacity, the stupidity, to think you could do so with impunity?’ His eyes scorched her, as if he would incinerate her on the spot.
Suddenly a Greek word spat from him. He turned, seizing up the phone on his desk, and punched in a number.
‘Polizei—’
Anna jerked forward.
‘Please—don’t! Don’t…don’t call the police.’
There was panic in her voice. He mustn’t involve the police—he mustn’t! They would investigate the theft, Jenny would realise she’d been found out—and she’d confess—Anna knew she would.
And the consequences would be unthinkable. The case would hit the press, Jenny’s condition would inevitably be exposed in the time it took to come to trial, and when it did she’d lose her baby for ever.
The man who had threatened to take her child from her would arrive to make good his threat. Jenny would lose her freedom and her baby. She’d be branded a criminal and end up in jail, her life ruined, her child taken from her…
And Anna could not let that happen.
Not if there was some way to avoid it.
Slowly, as if from a long distance, she saw Leo Makarios lower the receiver to the handset and turn back to her.
Faintly, forcing her voice to pass her throat, Anna spoke.
‘I need to know…know…exactly what would be involved if I agreed to…to the…the reparation you…you spoke of. I mean—how…how long for…and…when? I mean…’
He was looking at her. Something was in his eyes again, and it made her feel cold.
‘How long?’ he echoed. His voice was silky suddenly. ‘Why, Ms Delane—until I’ve had all I want of you. Or—’ there was a note in his voice that shivered down her spine ‘—until you please me sufficiently to earn your parole. There—is that exact enough for you? Or would you like me to spell out exactly—’ his repetition of the word mocked her ‘—how I envisage you earning your parole?’
He was baiting her, taunting her, wanting her to lash out, scream her defiance, her revulsion at him. She could see it, knew it all the way through her.
And she burned to do it! Burned to tell him to take his