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Jesse fought not to quail under his censorious gaze and tone. She swallowed. ‘They’re in a safe place … and will be given back to you on the day you leave.’
The sound of tension was evident in his voice. ‘And when will that be?’
Jesse felt the tightness in her chest. ‘When the deadline has come and gone on your deal with O’Brien.’
When it would be too late to make sure that he had O’Brien where he wanted him.
Luc reeled, and his mind almost closed down at that unpalatable prospect. Fury gripped him like a physical force. To be rendered so powerless, helpless. For the first time in his life he felt capable of violence.
He stepped back. He forced air into his lungs and shook his head. ‘Unbelievable … You want him this badly yourself?’
Jesse felt hard inside. No one else had come forward to save O’Brien, and if she could hold Sanchis off until it was too late her father would effectively be a sinking ship that no one would touch. He’d be mired in legal red tape for years, and Jesse knew that once people started looking into his affairs his years of tax evasion, corruption and fraud would catch up with him. He’d most certainly be facing a gaol sentence.
Luc Sanchis wouldn’t touch him then, for fear of being embroiled in his mess. Everything she’d learned about his pristine ethics and business practices told Jesse that. In a way, if he’d turned out to be as corrupt as her father it would have made this easier …
‘Yes,’ Jesse said firmly, ‘I want him this badly.’
Luc Sanchis stepped closer again, and Jesse couldn’t help a small faltering step backwards, hating herself for showing him the slightest weakness.
‘You’ve made a very grave error in deciding to fight me on this matter.’
Jesse forced steel into her spine and looked straight into those dark eyes. ‘I offered you an opportunity to step aside and you didn’t take it.’
Luc Sanchis stepped even closer, intimidating, his scent woodsy and distracting.
‘All you’ve done here is make yourself a foe for life. When I’m done with you, you’ll be lucky to get work in an internet café.’
Luc welcomed the rage simmering inside him. It was distracting him from how delicate Jesse Moriarty appeared even when she’d just kidnapped him! He’d spent so long dreaming of the moment when he’d have O’Brien exactly where he wanted him, and now he was looking at years of plans gone to waste.
He had to step away from Moriarty and her faux vulnerability and turn around. Spiking his hands in his hair, his muscles bunched with angry tension, Luc wanted to smash his fist into something solid. Preferably a wall. But nothing surrounded him except the mocking silence of this mystery island.
He whirled round again, taking in her pale features. That angered him even more. ‘Where the hell are we? And don’t just say “a Greek island” again.’
Jesse bit her lip so hard she could feel blood. When Luc Sanchis had turned away from her just now she’d had a very real sense that he wanted to hit something.
She quickly considered his question and decided that there was nothing he could do about it anyway. ‘We are on a small uninhabited island called Oxakis. It’s privately owned. It’s one of the most remote islands in the Greek archipelago.’
Sanchis bit back a curse. Out of the thousands of islands and islets in Greece he knew only a few hundred were inhabited. They could literally be anywhere right now, and there was no land in sight. And nothing that signified any other kind of habitation on this island.
‘That’s handy, then, isn’t it?’
It was rather, Jesse thought a little hysterically. As was the fact that the very security-conscious owner had made his sumptuous villa—the only dwelling on the island—practically impregnable once you were within the alarmed fence … which was where she needed to get Luc Sanchis now, so she could be assured of his location at all times.
More jerkily than she liked, Jesse moved back towards the Jeep and the driver’s side. Luc Sanchis just stood there, staring at her. Jesse’s conscience struck her hard and she had to force down the feeling. From what she’d read about him, this man was one of the least vulnerable on the planet.
She’d unearthed the infamous story of how he’d wreaked revenge on an ex-lover who had betrayed him by decimating her reputation so comprehensively that the woman had suffered a very public nervous breakdown. It had sent out a clear message to anyone who thought they could play Luc Sanchis: they couldn’t.
And yet here she was, doing exactly that.
When he didn’t immediately follow her to the Jeep, panic struck Jesse. She was no match physically for this man, and at that thought an insidious burn began in her belly, the effortless awareness she seemed to have around him intensifying.
She bit out, more caustically than she’d intended, ‘There’s nothing else on the island except the villa. You can stay here if you want, but it’ll be a long wait and it gets cold at night.’ She added, ‘We’re not under a flight path, and no boats or ships sail close to this island.’
Jesse could see his hands clench into fists. He should have looked incongruous against this backdrop, in his dark suit, shirt and tie, but he seemed to meld with the harsh rock formations in the distance. And the searing sunlight only made his olive skin seem more exotic. He’d run his hands through his hair and it was slightly tousled, giving him a devilish air.
That angry tension was practically vibrating off him now, but after a tense inner struggle that Jesse could practically feel he bit out, ‘Damn you, Moriarty.’
He ripped off his jacket, taking it in one hand, and with his other hand reached up to undo the top button of his shirt under the tie. He strode towards the passenger side of the Jeep and almost pulled the door off its hinges. It visibly sagged under his weight when he got in and sat down.
Wiping suddenly sweaty hands on her jeans, Jesse picked up her fallen sunglasses and opened her own door and got in too, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in her hand as she put the key in the ignition. The engine fired to life. When she pressed on the accelerator too hard and they jerked forward her cheeks burned under his scathing look, which she could feel like a brand on her skin.
Taking a deep breath, Jesse navigated the Jeep out of the airfield and onto the one very narrow road which led around to the other side of the island and the villa.
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 had done some business with Kouros in the past, and he’d told her about his island and villa and suggested that she use it if she ever felt like getting away, if it was free. She’d automatically said thanks but no thanks; leisure was not something she indulged in.
She’d remembered the island when she’d thought of this audacious plan to stop Luc Sanchis, and had wondered where on earth she could take him.
She gestured to the vast expanse of a plush living room, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves along one wall and comfortable couches and chairs. ‘This is the main living area. There’s a TV and DVDs in the cabinet …’
His voice dripped sarcasm. ‘You mean I’m allowed to move freely throughout the house? You’re not locking me in the tower with only a daily bowl of gruel to keep me alive?’
Jesse tensed at his dark humour. She was surprised … she’d not been sure what to expect. In her experience billionaires and titans of industry could be petulant when things didn’t go their way. And Luc Sanchis so far had barely balked at his fate … he was very angry, yes, but not disconcerted. As if he was merely biding his time, getting the lie of the land.
She didn’t fool herself into believing she could be complacent. Luc Sanchis was preternaturally intelligent and cunning. She wouldn’t trust for a second that he wasn’t looking for a way out, or a way to manipulate her.
She turned around to face him, struck all over again at his immense physicality. She didn’t like how it made her feel weak. He had to understand how futile any attempt on his part to leave would be.
‘There is a perimeter fence around this villa that is permanently electrified and alarmed with infra-red sensors. That airstrip is the only way on and off the island.’
Jesse crossed her fingers behind her back, because she knew there was a small boathouse tucked away on the southern tip which held a speedboat. She didn’t like the way Luc Sanchis’s eyes narrowed on her contemplatively.
He crossed his arms, legs spread. Supremely comfortable in his skin even now. ‘I’m a champion swimmer.’
Why am I not surprised? Jesse thought caustically.
She crossed her arms too. ‘The waters here are treacherous, known for their volatile currents. I checked the weather forecast and a storm is possible. Even if you did make it through the perimeter fence, no matter how good a swimmer you are you’d never last.’
Luc cast a glance through the open French doors and the gently billowing white curtains. The scene outside was idyllic, but even as he thought that the faintest whisper of a cool breeze whistled through the room. He knew only too well from his experience as a seasoned sailor how the weather could change in an instant.
He looked back down into those serious grey eyes and had a fleeting thought: why so serious?
He shook his head, as if that would obliterate the insidious question. ‘How did you persuade my pilot to change course?’ He had been wondering about that. He had still been on the phone when he’d embarked on the plane, right up until they’d been about to take off. Undoubtedly that had added to the ease with which they’d carried out their subterfuge.
Jesse avoided his eye again, looking down for a moment, blushing furiously. ‘I … ah … sent his company an e-mail too. From you … explaining that you wanted to change your flight plan from Switzerland to here. And that you didn’t want to discuss it once you got on board … because the trip was of a romantic nature.’
She looked back up. ‘I contracted the steward separately and paid him to administer the sleeping aid, and he took your things as well,’ she admitted. ‘It was all done under the impression that it wasn’t serious but for a romantic …’ Jesse’s voice trailed off with embarrassment, but then she got herself together. ‘I also said that you’d inform them when you wanted to book your return flight.’
Luc gritted his jaw so tightly it hurt. She’d simply but effectively re-routed his entire schedule—and with the best anti-hacking software protecting his systems who would assume for a second the messages weren’t coming from him? He was hoist by his own petard because, exactly as she’d pointed out, his staff were used to his last-minute changes. She’d obviously sent all these missives at the last possible moment, and worded them in such a way that they didn’t encourage discussion. Something he was apt to do when he wanted to focus on something.
Jesse had no idea what was going on in his head now, but she was sure it wasn’t pretty and had a lot to do with hating her. She backed away towards the stairs, which led up to the upper rooms and away from the living space. After a few taut seconds she heard Luc Sanchis sigh and come after her.
A carpeted runner led up the stairs to a corridor on the first level that had rooms leading off in each direction. Jesse stopped outside one and opened the door, standing aside so Sanchis could look inside.
She’d felt funny about using the Kouroses’ master bedroom, so she’d picked the next largest for Luc Sanchis and taken a modest one for herself, instinctively feeling more comfortable in less opulent surroundings. Although, she thought wryly, modest in this villa meant a palatial bedroom with plush carpets and a queen-sized bed. Her huge en suite bathroom had a decadent sunken bath, and led out to a balcony with a stunning view of the Mediterranean Sea.
She walked into the bedroom she’d assigned for Luc Sanchis, her feet sinking noiselessly into the carpet. The view from this room and its en suite bathroom were even more spectacular than that from Jesse’s room.
She was cursory when she spoke, suddenly uncomfortable here with this man in such luxurious surroundings. ‘This is the main bedroom with en suite bathroom. It’s stocked with all the necessary toiletries.’
Jesse fought not to flinch when Luc Sanchis joined her in the bathroom and inspected the shelves, picking things up and putting them down again. She noticed that he must have dropped his jacket and tie somewhere. A minute ago the rooms had felt enormous. Now Jesse felt positively claustrophobic. All she could see were those big hands and long fingers making everything look tiny.
She backed out into the bedroom and noticed the jacket and tie strewn on the bed. She looked away hurriedly, suddenly hot when she thought of him ripping that tie off.
She walked over to the doors leading into a walk-in closet. She could sense Luc Sanchis and his bristling energy close behind her, and hated the little shiver of something she felt inside.
With the doors open wide she indicated to where a vast array of clothes was laid out. Suits, trousers, shoes. Casual clothes, pyjamas. Luc Sanchis stepped up to the door and his mouth opened … and closed again. Eyes flashing he looked at Jesse and muttered grimly, ‘I suspected you might be gay, but not if these belong to the last gigolo you brought here.’
Jesse’s face flamed and she fought for control. He thought these were for her lovers? The idea would have been laughable if Jesse had been in the mood to laugh. And she was stung somewhere very vulnerable to think that he’d assumed she was gay.
Luc watched Jesse. Myriad expressions chased across her face—uppermost something looking like shock. He was surprised at this prudish aspect of her but then recalled the buttoned-up look she’d sported in his office. She was more casual now, but equally unrevealing. He didn’t like to admit to the stab of something incomprehensible in his gut when he thought of these clothes belonging to another man.
She got out in a slightly strangled-sounding voice, ‘They’re all new. For you. I knew your meeting was only for a couple of hours and you wouldn’t have clothes with you … so I ordered some.’
Luc walked into the space and fingered some of the clothes. There was enough to dress him for a month, encompassing the entire spectrum of casual to formal wear.
Jesse said hesitantly from behind him, ‘Mr Sanchis, I know I’ve brought you here against your will, but it really is my intention to let you go … just as soon as I’m assured you won’t be in a position to resurrect your deal with O’Brien …’
