by Abby Green
She pulled away and stepped back. ‘Stay out of my face, Sanchis.’
And with that she turned and walked back up to the villa, stopping herself from breaking into a run.
Luc watched her small form, the flash of bare pale legs in the gloom. She stopped by Tigger’s box inside the kitchen door and his own hands clenched into fists at his sides when he imagined those small hands running over the kitten. He wanted those hands running over him. All over his body and particularly where he ached most.
Luc set off back to the villa once he knew Jesse would be in her room. He didn’t doubt he wouldn’t see her again this evening. She was as skittish as a foal. He wondered what had made her like that. She had to be at least twenty-five, if not older …
Forget about torturing her, he thought grimly. The only person he seemed to be torturing was himself. She’d been lucky she’d caught him coming out of his shower earlier, or else she’d have seen the full extent of how easily she turned him on …
Through the tangled haze of frustration in Luc’s brain he had to face the uncomfortable realisation that no other woman had made him feel this hot. Not even Maria, and she had consumed him day and night for weeks.
Even though he could acknowledge now that his youth and inexperience had had a lot to do with how easily she’d seduced him, it didn’t take away the burn of humiliation. He’d been obsessed with her. He’d believed that perhaps everything wasn’t always meant to be tragic and sad. And Eva, his sister, had been enraptured with her too, captivated by her beauty and the long, luxurious fall of her glossy chestnut hair.
Luc felt sick inside when he recalled that final ugly day, when the extent of how naive he’d been and how ugly Maria really was had spilled out. She’d shuddered visibly and said, ‘And as for your sister—how can you tolerate her in your family? She’s not even all there—and the way she wants to touch me all the time and play with my hair … it disgusts me.’
Luc felt guilty to this day that he’d allowed her near his beloved sister. He thought of Eva and his mother then, and suddenly resented Jesse bitterly for putting him in a position where he might not be contactable in case they needed him.
Anger at that, and anger at the way she was making him feel in general, fuelled him. He bounded up the stairs to Jesse’s room to knock brusquely on the door.
He heard faint movements inside, and then the door opened to reveal her fresh from the shower, with another robe on and a towel around her head. That heady scent that was uniquely hers reached out and wound around him like a siren’s call, bringing with it all sorts of images of tangled sweaty bodies.
He fought against it and gritted out, ‘I need to call my messaging service to check if everything is okay and in case my mother or sister have been trying to reach me.’
Jesse opened her mouth but before she could say anything Luc had planted a hand high on the doorjamb. ‘You’d better let me do this, Jesse,’ he said ominously. ‘Or else this becomes about a lot more than just O’Brien. I have many more business interests other than him, but if my mother or sister need me and I don’t know about it then you will regret the day you were born.’
Jesse looked up into dark, hard eyes and felt ice slither down her spine for the first time since she’d brought Luc to the island. When it came to his mother and sister clearly he really meant it. For a treacherous moment Jesse wondered what it would be like to have someone that protective of her.
Almost as much to deny that rogue feeling as to give in to fear, Jesse muttered, ‘Fine. I don’t see how that’s not fair.’ Especially as she’d been checking on her own business concerns whenever she had a chance. She looked up at him. ‘But we do it my way, and I’ll supervise every moment. If I think you’re sending someone a message then I’ll terminate the connection immediately.’
‘Fine.’ He was curt.
‘I’ll get changed and come down in a minute.’
She closed the door in his face and quickly threw off the towels, dressing in loose cargo pants and a white shirt. She didn’t bother with a bra, and rubbed her hair briskly and went back outside. She wasn’t wholly surprised to see Luc waiting for her, arms crossed and leaning back against the opposite wall, eyes heavy-lidded and dangerous.
She walked ahead of him down the stairs and to the door of the study, very aware of her lack of a bra now and regretting her haste.
She turned around and looked up at Luc. ‘Wait here.’
She went in and closed the door, jiggling the lock to make it sound as if she’d locked it, then hurried to the safe where she took out the landline phone. She plugged it in and relocked the safe, and then went back and did the same thing again to the lock. She hated these weaknesses: a phobia of blood and locked rooms.
She opened the door and admitted Luc.
His gaze immediately narrowed on the phone, and he quirked a brow at her. ‘What’s to stop me from overpowering you and making the relevant calls to get me rescued?’
‘Nothing,’ Jesse admitted. ‘But you wouldn’t get very far, because there’s a twelve-digit security code you need to put in before any external calls can be made.’
His eyes flashed. ‘And I guess you’re not going to divulge it.’ It wasn’t a question.
Jesse said nothing, just stuck her chin a little higher, determined not to let him intimidate her.
‘Go on, then,’ he bit out. ‘Put it in.’
Jesse went to the phone and covered her hand, putting in the code. A photographic memory was one of the quirky traits that had helped her get a scholarship to Cambridge.
She held out the phone to Luc when she heard the outside dial tone. He took it and glared at her, before punching in the number for his messaging service. Jesse had moved to where the phone was connected to the wall, so she could easily pull the connection out if required.
She saw him register the messages and punch in the relevant numbers to retrieve them. He pulled a notepad and pen to him and wrote some things down. Then he terminated the call himself and looked at Jesse. ‘Not surprisingly there are lots of irate calls from O’Brien’s people, wondering what the hell is going on,’ he said caustically.
Jesse couldn’t even really feel satisfied. She felt numb inside when she thought of that man.
She was about to pull the connection from the wall when Luc said, ‘Wait. I want to call my sister and give her another number to call in case there’s an emergency.’
Jesse battled with her conscience. She couldn’t absolutely trust that Luc’s story about his background was true, but what if it was? What if his sister needed him?
Reluctantly she came over and wrote a number down on a piece of paper. ‘Give her that number. If she calls I’ll let you know.’
She put in the twelve-digit number again and Luc made his call. Jesse resumed her spot by the wall connection and waited with bated breath for Luc to blurt something out to his secretary or someone else. But instead he turned away from her and she heard him leave a message.
‘Eva, cariño, it’s me. I hope you and Mama and George are having a wonderful trip. In case something comes up and you can’t get through to me straight away on my regular number I have another one …’
He listed off the numbers and then said softly into the phone, ‘I’ll see you soon, querida, take care of Mama. Adiós.’
Jesse saw his hand come down to terminate the connection, and as soon as he did so she took the cord out of the wall and came back, wrapping it around her hand.
Luc turned around and put his hands down on the desk, leaning forward. His face was suddenly close to Jesse’s and the breath stalled in her throat. He brought a hand up and traced her jaw with a finger, making her skin tingle all over.
‘You will pay for this, Jesse Moriarty … I will find out all your secrets and you will pay …’
Jesse jerked her head back. ‘I don’t have any secrets, Sanchis.’
He stood up and shook his head, and said mock sternly, ‘It’s not Sanchis any more, Jesse. It’s Luc;
we’ve gone way too far to go back now.’
With that he turned and left the room. Jesse hugged the phone to her chest for a long moment. She felt ridiculously emotional because the truth was that she had no one to call. No one who really cared where she was, or with whom. Luc’s words floated back to her. We’ve gone way too far to go back now.
As she put the phone back into the safe and locked it again, Jesse pushed down the prickling sense of foreboding.
When she went into the kitchen a little later it was empty, but pans were in the sink—evidence of Luc’s dinner. She tried not to feel hurt that he hadn’t offered her anything, and then realised how ridiculous that was when he was her prisoner and owed her nothing. But somehow in the past couple of days she’d almost got used to Luc thinking of her needs too.
She found some cheese and bread in the fridge and managed to make a passable sandwich without maiming herself this time, sitting down to eat it at the table, with Tigger running back and forth by her feet. Jesse couldn’t help but smile at the antics of the tiny kitten. Despite its very obvious mal-nourishment it was so … ebullient, as if it hadn’t realised the precariousness of its own survival.
When she was finished she washed up, including Luc’s pans, and filled Tigger’s bowl with more milk. She replaced the papers with fresh ones and put him back in the box, where he curled up.
Jesse put her hands on her hips and sighed, looking down at him. And then, feeling curiously restless and wondering where Luc was, she went back through the house. There was no sign of Luc, but Jesse knew he wouldn’t be far because it was dark outside and the alarm was on.
She sat down on the couch and saw the fallen console from the other night. Within a few minutes she’d set up the game and was happily ensconced in the fantasy world of Final Retribution: to the Death.
Luc stood watching Jesse from the doorway. She was oblivious to anything but the game she was engrossed in, her fingers flying with almost inhuman speed over the controls on the console. There was a tiny frown between her eyes and, as much as Luc wanted to deny it, it was adorable. With her legs crossed and in bare feet, she looked like a tousle-haired sexy elf.
The anger that had been fuelling him earlier had dissipated a little. It was as if he’d only then allowed the enormity of how powerless he was to hit him—when he’d thought about his mother and sister and realised that he wouldn’t know if they needed him. The most enraging thing about that was that it hadn’t been his uppermost concern from the start. Because this woman had taken up every space in his head—and his libido.
His mouth settled to a grim line now as he took her in. There was only one way he could think of to assert some dominance in this situation and it had been far too long coming … It was time to give Jesse Moriarty a little taste of feeling out of control for a change.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JESSE’S skin prickled and her concentration faltered for a second when she sensed Luc’s presence in the room. She glanced up and saw him prowling towards the sofa. Before he got there he reached down and picked something up. It was the other game console.
He sat down beside her, far too close for comfort, and smiled at her. His weight meant that she fell towards him and Jesse quickly scrambled back, out of the danger zone, putting some space between them.
She tried not to be blinded by his smile and asked a little too breathily, ‘Did you want something?’
He looked at her for a long intense moment that had a very predictable effect on her heart-rate, and then sat back and said lazily, ‘This is a game for two, isn’t it?’
Jesse felt stiff and prim, and severely threatened. ‘Yes, but I’m playing both parts and I’m on one of the highest levels …’
‘So what …? Are you saying I can’t join in? You did say you wanted me to be as comfortable as possible here.’
Jesse didn’t trust this wide-eyed innocence for a second. She wanted to snap back, That doesn’t mean smiling at me and walking around half-naked at any given opportunity and making me want you.
Shock as those last few words registered in her brain made Jesse blurt out, ‘Fine. We’ll start a new game, I’m Princess Olga … you can be King Ordak.’
Luc tutted. ‘Just because I’m the man I have to be King Ordak?’
Jesse rolled her eyes. ‘Fine, you be the Princess and I’ll be Ordak.’
‘Does this mean I get to take off your head?’
The unmistakable light of challenge lit Jesse’s eyes. ‘You can try.’
‘Brave words, King Ordak, brave words …’
Jesse had lost track of time about three games later. She’d expected to walk all over Luc, but he’d caught on to the rules faster than anyone she’d ever seen and had just subjected her to a particularly brutal death by skewering her with a wooden pole.
‘You don’t have to look so pleased with yourself,’ she grumbled—and then was taken aback to discover that she was not only having something that approximated fun but also once again she was feeling comfortable with Luc.
Before she could really register that, he said easily, ‘You don’t seem to mind the blood in these games.’
Jesse tensed at being reminded of her weakness and how gentle he’d been with her. ‘No,’ she said carefully. ‘I know it’s not real.’
She made sure not to look at him, very afraid he’d see something on her face or in her eyes. This whole situation was careening wildly out of control.
‘One more game.’ He sounded determined.
‘Just so you can try to beat my score?’ Jesse asked lightly, glad Luc wasn’t pursuing the subject of her phobia of blood.
Luc sat back and Jesse was aware of his arm stretched out on the couch behind her. When had they moved closer together?
He drawled, ‘One more game and this time let’s up the ante a little—see how good you really are.’
Jesse cursed herself for not being able to get up and walk away from the danger she scented in the air, but she couldn’t resist a challenge. It was one of the reasons she’d done so well—because people had consistently told her that with her background she’d amount to nothing.
She glanced at him warily and hated to admit her attention was piqued. It made her bite out, ‘What do you mean?’
Luc came forward and Jesse’s gaze followed him suspiciously. The intent in his eyes made her hot in the face.
‘If I win, you let me do whatever I want …’ His mouth twisted. ‘I realise that doesn’t include letting me off the island or making a call to that end.’
Jesse racked her brains. Whatever he wanted … That could be anything. But as long as it didn’t involve freeing him what was the harm?
Some of her equilibrium returning, Jesse said, ‘But you won’t win. So what do I get when I win?’
Dryly Luc observed, ‘I think you’ve got quite enough, don’t you?’
Jesse scowled and then brightened. ‘I know. You can cook for me for the rest of the week.’
Now Luc scowled. ‘I’m practically cooking for you anyway, so that’s hardly fair … But, fine, if that’s what you want.’
Jesse stuck out her hand and then immediately regretted it when it was enveloped in his much larger one. Luc seemed to hold her hand for ever, and she finally pulled free and turned back to the game. She had a prickle of foreboding as to what Luc might exact from her if she won and she couldn’t allow him any leeway to torture her further.
The game started and Jesse scored a few easy victories, which made her feel complacent and which inevitably led to mistakes. Before she knew it Luc had caught up with her score and then they were neck and neck. All Luc had to do was to kill her in one of three ways and he would win.
Just as Jesse realised that, Luc made a master move she didn’t see coming, and she watched in disbelief as her body was ripped in half, with cartoon-style blood gushing everywhere. She was speechless. No one ever beat her at computer games. In the geek world she was legendary, and had an unbroken record.
Until now.<
br />
She felt the console being taken out of her hand and Luc cleared his throat. ‘So, where were we?’
Jesse looked at him blankly, aware of his very smug expression. She couldn’t help admitting, ‘I can’t believe you just did that.’
‘You’re not the only one who has obviously racked up many misspent hours playing computer games.’
Jesse rounded on him properly. ‘You should have told me! That’s unfair, because I wasn’t playing to full capacity! If you’re as good as that, then—’
‘Ah-ah.’
Luc put a finger to Jesse’s open mouth. She closed it abruptly, but not before she’d got a tantalising taste of warm skin. He took his finger away, much to Jesse’s relief—because she’d had an absurd urge to suck it.
‘Don’t be a sore loser, Jesse, it’s not attractive. I think it’s clear who has won the game and according to the terms we agreed, you have to let me do whatever I want.’
Her heart was thumping crazily. The game was forgotten. Jesse looked at Luc with a kind of mounting mixture of anticipation and horror. Her voice was scratchy. ‘What … what is it that you want?’
Luc’s gaze travelled over Jesse’s face, lingering on her mouth, which tingled in reaction, dipping down to her chest, where she imagined he could see right through to the bare skin of her breasts, and then back up. He was like a lazy panther, with all the time in the world to catch his prey.
‘What I want to do, Jesse, is kiss you.’
Jesse instantly recoiled backwards. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t want to kiss me.’
Luc closed the distance between them, his gaze fixated on her mouth—which Jesse had always thought of as exceedingly unsexy, but which now felt disturbingly provocative.
‘Oh, yes, Jesse, I do.’
‘No.’ Jesse was shaking her head and scrambling back further along the couch, horror and awful anticipation solidifying in her belly. ‘You don’t.’
With seemingly effortless ease Luc merely came closer again, until Jesse was all but crouching in the corner of the spacious comfy couch, knees drawn up to her chest, eyes huge, heart thumping out of control. A fine sweat was breaking out all over her body and all she could see was Luc Sanchis, broad and dark and infinitely more dangerous to her than anything she’d ever known before in her life. Including her father.
