Luc’s hand was clenched tight around the handle above the door. The Jeep felt like a prison cell—compounded by the fact that he wasn’t in the driving seat. He hated not driving unless he was in the back of his chauffeur-driven car. He winced as Jesse changed gear and they screeched. The Jeep was new and luxurious, but his long legs were still cramped. He was uncomfortably aware of how stretched out her legs had to be to reach the pedals.
She was like a doll. He imagined that he could wrap one hand all the way around one taut jean-clad thigh. Her hands were tiny on the steering wheel. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled up, revealing slim arms and slender wrists.
Luc felt himself turning so he could scrutinise her even closer, almost unaware of what he was doing. The top button of her shirt was open, revealing pale skin at the bottom of her throat and long neck. The seat belt cut across her chest, making the small swells of her breasts appear more prominent.
Suddenly her head turned and she cast him a quick suspicious glance. ‘What are you looking at?’
With more effort than he cared to admit he dragged his gaze up to see pink cheeks and those long-lashed dark grey eyes. He noticed that her lips were soft and surprisingly full—especially the bottom lip. Luc felt very peculiar for a fleeting moment, and then cursed himself and swung back to face the road.
‘A way out,’ he muttered acerbically, telling himself that this awareness of her was a pure side effect of the extraordinary circumstances. He could feel the shock wearing off, and suddenly thought of something.
He looked back at her grim profile and tried not to notice her stubborn chin or the straight line of her nose. Crossing his arms across his chest, he sat back against the door and regarded her. ‘I’m expected in Switzerland for a meeting at the economic forum; people will already be wondering where I am and asking questions. My security staff on the ground there will be mounting a search as soon as I don’t arrive.’
Jesse’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. She could see the huge wrought-iron gates of the villa up ahead and breathed a sigh of relief. She really didn’t want to have the next part of this conversation in a confined space when she needed all her concentration. Her driving wasn’t assured at the best of times.
She ignored Luc Sanchis and once they were through the gates pressed a button in the Jeep which activated their closure behind them. Finally she felt a little bit more secure.
The driveway was a steep climb up to the villa, which rested on a high rocky outcrop overlooking the sea. On either side a wall of lush bougainvillaea bushes with pink and purple flowers lined the route.
She saw out of the corner of her eye that Luc Sanchis had glanced back too, to see the gates close, and felt a fresh wave of enmity coming from him.
The villa that came into view was a stunning example of the old style—nothing jarring or modern. The classic, elegant lines of the two-storey house drew the eye down to floor level, with three long French windows and a patio. Wooden shutters were painted a faint eggshell, offset by walls painted a warm cream colour. Traditional terracotta tiles on the roof were faded from the sunlight. Trees and bushes slightly obscured the steps leading up to a green lawn, which led to the patio outside the French doors.
Gravel crunched under the wheels of the Jeep as Jesse bypassed the steps up to the patio and drove to the main door. A glorious profusion of flowers bloomed everywhere from pots and trellises. But Jesse was blind to the magical beauty of the place.
She brought the Jeep to a stop outside the main door and cut the engine.
Sarcastically Luc Sanchis asked, ‘No butler to greet us and open the door?’
Jesse was so tense she felt as if she might snap. ‘There are no staff. Just us.’ She got out quickly, before Luc Sanchis’s blistering anger and energy could make her feel even more claustrophobic.
He got out too, and faced her across the bonnet of the Jeep. Jesse pressed the button to lock the Jeep and carefully pocketed the keys. Luc Sanchis’s eyes tracked her movements. And then he looked back up.
‘Well? You haven’t answered my question. What are you going to do when my security team locate the GPS signal on my mobile phone and track me to here?’ He glanced at the heavy platinum watch encircling one broad wrist. ‘I’d say all hell is breaking loose right about now …’
Jesse sent up a sigh of relief that she’d had enough time to store his personal effects in a locked security box which was now locked inside the boot of the Jeep.
She hitched up her chin and faced him. ‘I disabled the GPS device on your phone and laptop. There’s no other way your location can be centred to here.’ She could see his jaw clench ominously and rushed on. ‘And I hacked into your account to send e-mails to your assistant and your security team, to alert them to a change of plan in your schedule. I said that you were not to be disturbed under any circumstances until you contacted them.’
Jesse could see his brain clicking into gear … sorting through what she’d said … searching for a way out. Then she saw realisation hit, and he stalked around the front of the Jeep, seriously intimidating now.
‘You’re one of the only people in the world who could do such a thing because you devised the software.’
Jesse gulped. She might have felt proud in other circumstances, but not right now, when she said, ‘Yes.’
If he hadn’t already gone nuclear this just might have done it.
Jesse spoke again—as much to distract him as anything else. ‘I’m aware that you are known for abrupt changes in plan—as much to keep your employees on their toes as to keep an eye on your myriad business interests—so I don’t think your staff will be too surprised at your sudden deviation.’
Jesse could see how his cheeks suffused with colour, making his cheekbones stand out even further, only adding to his intensely masculine appeal. His voice was supremely controlled when he spoke, but it wasn’t fooling Jesse for a second. She could see a muscle twitching in his hard jaw.
‘You certainly seem to have thought of everything. For now.’
‘For the next ten days, Mr Sanchis. I’ve … you’ve already sent out instructions to back out of the deal with O’Brien.’
‘Kidnapping; hacking into my accounts; pretending to be me … Your crimes are mounting, Ms Moriarty. And all because you’re so desperate to be the one to save O’Brien from the abyss.’
No! Jesse wanted to scream. I want to be the one to send him into the abyss. For ever!
She lifted one shoulder in a small movement, scared of that flat, emotionless look in Luc Sanchis’s eyes. With his tie rakishly askew and his shirt open he might have been a pirate. He spat out words contemptuously, taking Jesse by surprise.
‘Women like you make me sick. You’re more ruthless than any man. In light of your determination to succeed in this matter I don’t doubt you’d buy and sell a family member to get what you want.’
Jesse was unaware of how she paled in that instant, or of how Luc Sanchis’s eyes narrowed on her. She stepped back abruptly avoiding his eyes, more than aghast at how easily he’d cut her to the quick. It was because of treacherous family that she was in this position. That she even knew what ruthlessness felt like.
‘Let me show you around the villa.’
Tension quivered between them, and Jesse knew that Luc Sanchis was realising he simply had no option right now except to do as she said. She walked around him and up some steps into the main hall.
The house throughout was white, with exposed stone walls, bright and comfortable furnishings. The main hall floor was marble, but the rest of the ground level had wooden floors, softened by faded oriental rugs. It was truly a home, loved and tended by its owners—a Greek billionaire named Alexandros Kouros, his wife, Kallie, and their three children.
Jesse