Jasmine felt the blood drain from her face. Despite her bravado, the last thing she wanted was for Reyes to start digging into Stephen’s affairs. The evidence of his gambling, misappropriation and connection to people like Joaquin Esteban would become public knowledge if Reyes took that route.
Her stepfather had been visibly shaken by his ordeal at the hands of Joaquin’s men, enough to induce an angina attack that had laid him up in hospital for a week.
Unfortunately, it had taken that experience to wake him up to his dangerous addiction. He had just started a programme to help overcome his gambling problem; the last thing she wanted was for his life to be thrown into turmoil by Reyes.
Watching him struggle to overcome his weakness, she’d been reminded of what Stephen himself had said to her years earlier.
Nobody was perfect.
She’d reminded herself of that over and over again in the last four weeks. Except she was sure, when it came to Prince Reyes Navarre, that belief wouldn’t hold water.
She tried to remain calm as Reyes, sensing her turmoil, tilted her face up to his.
‘I see I’ve stumbled onto something. Who were the beneficiaries if not your parents?’ His fingers tightened. ‘Your lover?’
With excruciating effort, she wrenched herself free. ‘What does it matter? I did it,’ she admitted, not seeing the point in prolonging the agony.
Beside her, he tensed. Her fingers clenched in her lap, the rush of memories threatening to eat her alive. Desperately, she tried to push them away, but they pushed back. Hard.
I did it. This wasn’t the first time she’d said those words. But she’d hoped back then it would be the last. How wrong she’d been.
Squeezing her eyes shut for a single heartbeat, she took a deep breath, opened them and tried to plead with Reyes.
‘I did it. I’m willing to take the consequences. Just tell me what I need to do.’ Because the earlier she could make reparations, the earlier she could put him behind her.
REYES FOUND HIMSELF riveted by the frank admission, unable to look away from the open candour in Jasmine’s face as she looked back at him. For the first time in his life, he found himself speechless.
I did it.
In all the imagined scenarios when he’d dreamed of exacting his revenge, not once had he entertained the notion that she would admit her guilt so readily.
He wondered why he was surprised. Weren’t her audacity, her sheer bolshiness what had attracted him a month ago in Rio? Yet even now, Reyes could see that her reaction, while mostly convincing, was just a front. But a front that hid what? What was Jasmine Nichols keeping from him?
He continued to stare at her. She stared back, her gaze unflinching. Against his will, he felt his blood firing up, his heartbeat quicken. Shifting in his seat, he sat back, took a deep breath.
Jasmine had made things easy for him. He now didn’t need to bother with interrogating her. She’d admitted her guilt and he had her confession. Her punishment would wait until he’d dealt with more important matters.
‘Gracias,’ he murmured, breaking eye contact. The strange sense of loss he felt was immediately pushed aside.
‘What are you thanking me for?’ she asked.
‘Saving me the time and energy of interrogating you. Who did you give the treaty to?’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘You’re wrong. When the time is right you’ll give me a name. Every person responsible for this chaos will be brought to justice.’
Despite the fire in her eyes, she swallowed and looked away.
His car swung into the last stretch of road leading to his estate and a sense of satisfaction stole over him. In London, he’d felt at a slight loss; that control wasn’t totally within his grasp. Within touching distance of the place he called his second home, his control returned.
San Estrela was his mother’s birthplace and where she had married his father. Reyes had maybe one or two fairly happy holidays here as a child...until everything had turned sour. He wouldn’t be creating any more happy memories by bringing his prisoner here, but he had no choice.
As much as it burned him to admit it, he couldn’t yet return to Santo Sierra. He needed to rally economic support in order to get the talks with Valderra back on track. Plus, at present, he wasn’t entirely sure whom he could trust in his own council.
His insides clenched as he thought of his father. Ruthlessly, he pushed the feeling aside. If he was to achieve what he was aiming for, he needed to clear his mind of his grief; of making things right with the father he’d lost for so long. Ironically, it was his own downfall with Jasmine Nichols that had made Reyes see his father in a different light. To not judge the old man so harshly for his own mistakes.
He would return to his father’s bedside soon enough. Make amends. Hopefully before it was too late.
He alighted from the car and automatically held out his hand. Jasmine took it and straightened beside him a second later. He dropped her hand, not wanting to acknowledge how her skin felt against his.
A frown crossed her face before she masked it.
Reyes didn’t know what to do with that look. On the one hand, she remained stoic in the face of her guilt, yet on the other she looked at him with contrition. The enigma unsettled and irritated him.
Pushing aside the feeling, he mounted the stairs as the door swung open to reveal his major-domo, Armando. The man wore the same anxious look he’d seen on so many Santo Sierran faces.
Reminded that his people were living in a state of constant worry made Reyes’s chest tighten.
Knowing the cause of all this turmoil stood two steps behind him made his blood simmer as he greeted Armando.
‘This is Miss Jasmine Nichols. She’ll be my guest for the duration of my stay. She is, however, not permitted to leave the house or grounds under any circumstances. If she attempts to leave, use all means necessary to prevent her,’ he instructed.
‘You don’t need to do that. I know why I’m here. You have my word that I won’t run away.’
‘You’ll forgive me if I don’t find your word reassuring?’
She inhaled sharply. ‘I suppose I deserve that,’ she murmured.
Reyes frowned at the hurt in her voice.
Armando, his usual capable, unruffled self, barely blinked at the exchange. ‘I will put her in the Valencia Suite, Your Highness.’
‘No, the Leon Suite next to mine will suffice.’
‘Very well, Your Highness.’
Reyes turned down the hall towards his study and had barely taken half a dozen steps when he heard the click of heels racing after him.
He stopped. ‘Did you want something?’
She looked pale, her face creased in concern as her eyes fell. When she began to visibly tremble, Reyes frowned. She hadn’t been well yesterday, but she’d reassured the doctor this morning that she was fine.
‘What do you mean by any means necessary?’ she asked.
‘Stay in the house and within the grounds and you’ll never have to find out. Understood?’
A tinge of