She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. ‘Please tell me what I can do to make things right. I’ll do anything.’
He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘I don’t trust a single word out of your mouth. So I suggest you save your breath.’
She licked her lower lip and tried anyway. ‘You can’t leave me here for ever.’
‘Can’t I?’ The smile that curved his lips could not in any way be described as affectionate, warm, or even cordial. The starkness of it struck pure terror in Jasmine’s heart.
‘I...I guess you can. But, please don’t.’ Her nausea was rising again. She didn’t think she could stand being cooped up in here for another minute, let alone hours on end.
His shark-like smile widened, the growth of beard emphasising the feral whiteness of his teeth. A dark shiver swept over her.
‘Never fear, querida, your sins will be addressed in due course. This subject is closed. For now.’
She’d been dismissed. Just like that. Jasmine wasn’t sure which emotion—despair or trepidation—churned greater in her stomach as she watched Reyes leave. She couldn’t force him to listen to the apology she’d practised for a month now. From his blatant hatred of her, she’d have to abandon any hope of asking for his forgiveness.
For now she had no recourse but to stay a prisoner.
Despair cloying through her, she paced for another hour before exhaustion deadened her limbs.
Kicking off her shoes, she sank onto the sofa. Despite the creature comforts, there were no windows in the basement. The remote for the TV had been removed. She had no idea exactly how much time had passed because her bag and phone had been taken away. The second tray Reyes had ordered delivered had also gone cold, its arrival coinciding with another case of severe nausea.
That, coupled with the exhaustion, convinced Jasmine she’d definitely picked up a bug of some sort.
Stretching out, she shivered and tried to tuck her skirt down to cover her legs as much as possible. Then, closing her eyes, she succumbed to the darkness tugging at her consciousness.
* * *
‘Jasmine, wake up!’
‘Mnnnh.’ Her tongue felt too thick to convey the no she’d been attempting. She tried to burrow into the blanket someone had draped on her, but a sharp shake of her shoulder stopped her.
‘Wake up!’
She groaned at the effort it took to pry her eyes open. ‘What?’
A man, presumably a doctor from the stethoscope clinging to his neck, hovered above her. She squirmed and started to raise her hand as he shone a light in her eyes.
Sharp pain shot up her arm. ‘Ouch.’
‘Lie still. You have an intravenous needle in your arm.’
Reyes’s deep voice was unmistakeable. Her attention swung to him as he barked at whoever else was in the room. When the volley of Spanish ceased, he was holding out a glass of water with a straw to her lips, and someone was pressing a soft pillow beneath her head.
Questions swirled in her fuzzy brain. ‘Reyes...what...?’
‘Don’t try and speak,’ he said, his eyes narrowed on her face as he addressed the doctor in Spanish.
The doctor nodded repeatedly and patted Jasmine’s shoulder.
‘What’s he saying? What happened to me? And why do I have a needle in my arm?’
Reyes glared at her, but she saw shadows lurking in his eyes. ‘You fell asleep but you didn’t respond when I tried to wake you.’
The doctor spoke to Reyes. Reyes turned to her. ‘Are you on any medication?’
Frowning, she shook her head. Then noticed her new surroundings for the first time. ‘Where am I?’
‘You’re in my suite in the guest wing of the ambassador’s residence.’
About to ask why she’d been relocated, she paused as the doctor addressed Reyes again. After a few minutes, the thin man bowed and left the room.
‘Should I be worried that the doctor didn’t want to speak to me, his patient?’
‘You don’t speak Spanish. And you’re not a patient. You’re a prisoner.’
Jasmine’s temper twitched despite the knowledge that she deserved his caustic tone. She glanced at the pole next to the bed holding the IV bag. ‘I know. But I’d still like to know what’s wrong with me, if it’s not too much trouble?’ she muttered.
Reyes’s mouth firmed. ‘You’re severely dehydrated and a touch malnourished. The fluids should do the trick. And I’ve ordered more food to be prepared for you. When was the last time you had a healthy meal?’ he asked with a dark frown.
Her eyelids dragged heavily as she blinked. ‘You mean the last time before I was incarcerated in your basement?’
‘Answer the question, Jasmine.’
Her heart shouldn’t have jumped at the sound of her name on his lips. But it did. ‘I don’t know. Yesterday afternoon, I think. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.’
Her eyes met his. Stayed. A piercing awareness lanced between them.
Reyes lunged to his feet and uttered a sharp command in Spanish. A bodyguard entered, glanced her way and nodded. She didn’t need a translator to know she was the subject of the discussion. Feelings of vulnerability rose along with the hairs on her nape. ‘What’s going on now?’
Reyes didn’t answer. He merely turned on his heel and walked through a door to a connecting room.
‘His Highness requires me to attend your home...bring you a few things before we leave,’ the bodyguard delivered in halting English.
Surprise froze Jasmine for all of ten seconds before her head swivelled towards the door Reyes had just walked out of. ‘Leave? I’m not going anywhere.’
‘You misunderstand. This is not a request from His Highness. It is a summons.’
‘A what?’ she asked dumbly, unable to immediately compute the words.
‘You are required to pack a bag, señorita. We leave tomorrow.’
‘You have your orders, I understand. But perhaps I can talk about it with His Highness when he has a minute?’ Her words were delivered loud in the hope that Reyes would hear her from wherever he’d disappeared to. She didn’t want to create any more waves, but neither could she let Reyes take over her life.
Silence descended in the room, the bodyguard eyeing her as if she’d gone insane.
Reyes re-entered the room. With a nod, he dismissed the security detail, waiting until they’d shut the door behind them before addressing her.
‘I think during your exchange with my men something may have become lost in translation. My request was actually a command. There was nothing of a suggestion about it. When I leave here in the morning, you’re coming with me.’
Despite her hammering pulse and the exhaustion sapping at her, she found the strength to speak. ‘I understand that I’m your prisoner, but even prisoners get advance warning of their fate,’ she implored.
One dark eyebrow rose. ‘You forget you have no rights here. I hold all the cards. You go where I wish you to go.’
Jasmine’s mouth dried up. The back of her hand itched and she yearned to rip the needle out, grab her