all you need from me?”
“It is. We already had the van driver in custody, and we arrested Henri Lefèvre an hour ago. They’ve both confessed to attempting to kidnap you and hold you for ransom. Not that they could deny it,” the inspector added drily. “Their fingerprints were all over the van, and no fewer than five witnesses saw Lefèvre jump out of it after the crash. We’ve also uncovered evidence that he’s more than fifty thousand Euros in debt, much of which we believe he owes to a drug dealer not known for his patience.”
A shudder rippled down Sarah’s spine. She couldn’t believe how close she’d come to being dragged into such a dark, ugly morass.
“Am I free to return to the United States after I sign my statement?”
“I’ll have to check with the prosecutor’s office, but I see no reason for them to impede your return given that Lefèvre and his accomplice have confessed. I’ll confirm that when you come in tomorrow, yes?”
“Thank you.”
She hung up and was contemplating going back to bed when there was a knock on her door.
“It’s Dev, Sarah.”
She wanted to take the coward’s way out and tell him she didn’t feel up to company, but she couldn’t keep putting him off.
“Just a minute,” she called through the door.
She detoured into the bedroom and threw on the clothes she’d dropped to the floor earlier. She couldn’t do much about the bruise on her cheek, but she did rake a hand through her hair. Still, she felt messy and off center when she opened the door.
Dev had abandoned his suit coat but still wore the pleated pants and pale yellow dress shirt he’d had on earlier. The shirt was open at the neck, the cuffs rolled up. Sarah had to drag her reluctant gaze up to meet the deep blue of his eyes. They were locked on her cheek.
“Did you ice that?”
“Yes, I did. Come in.”
He followed her into the sitting room. Neither of them sat. She gravitated to the window. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and stood beside the sofa.
“Have you heard from Inspector Delacroix?”
“She just called. I understand we have an appointment with her at nine tomorrow morning.”
“Did she tell you they’ve already obtained confessions?”
Sarah nodded and forced a small smile. “She also told me I could fly home after I signed the official statement. I was just about to call and make a reservation when you knocked.”
“Without talking to me first?”
“I think we’ve said everything we needed to.”
“I don’t agree.”
She scrubbed a hand down the side of her face. Her cheek ached. Her heart hurt worse. “Please, Dev. I don’t want to beat this into the ground.”
Poor verb choice, she realized when he ignored her and crossed the room to cup her chin. The ice hadn’t helped much, Sarah knew. The bruise had progressed from red to a nasty purple and green.
“Did Lefèvre do this to you?”
The underlying savagery in the question had her pulling hastily away from his touch.
“No, he didn’t. I hit something when he pushed me into the van.”
The savagery didn’t abate. If anything, it flared hotter and fiercer. “Good thing the bastard’s in police custody.”
Sarah struggled to get the discussion back on track. “Lefèvre doesn’t matter, Dev.”
“The hell he doesn’t.”
“Listen to me. What matters is that I didn’t know Alexis had sicced a photographer on us. But even if she hadn’t, some other magazine or tabloid would have picked up the story sooner or later. I’m afraid that kind of public scrutiny is something you and whoever you do finally get engaged to will have to live with.”
“I’m engaged to you, Sarah.”
“Not any longer.”
Shoving her misery aside, she slid the emerald off her finger and held it out. He refused to take it.
“It’s yours,” he said curtly. “Part of your heritage. Whatever happens from here on out between us, you keep the Russian Rose.”
The tight-jawed response only added to her aching unhappiness. “Our arrangement lasted only until you and Girault signed your precious contracts. That’s done now. So are we.”
She hadn’t intended to sound so bitter. Dev had held to his end of their bargain. Every part of it. She was the one who’d almost defaulted. If not personally, then by proxy through Alexis.
But would Dev continue to hold to his end? The sudden worry that he might take his anger out on Gina pushed her into a rash demand for an assurance.
“I’ve fulfilled the conditions of our agreement, right? You won’t go after my sister?”
She’d forgotten how daunting he could look when his eyes went hard and ice blue.
“No, Lady Sarah, I won’t. And I think we’d better table this discussion until we’ve had more time to think things through.”
“I’ve thought them through,” she said desperately. “I’m going home tomorrow, Dev.”
He leaned in, all the more intimidating because he didn’t touch her, didn’t raise his voice, didn’t so much as blink.
“Think again, sweetheart.”
Left alone in her misery, Sarah opened her hand and stared at the emerald-and-gold ring. No matter what Dev said, she couldn’t keep it.
Nor could she just leave it lying around. She toyed briefly with the thought of taking it downstairs and asking Monsieur LeBon to secure it in the hotel safe, but didn’t feel up to explaining either her bruised cheek or the call from Brigade criminelle.
With an aching sense of regret for what might have been, she slipped the ring back on her finger. It would have to stay there until she returned it to Dev.
She was trying to make herself go into the bedroom and pack when a loud rumble from the vicinity of her middle reminded her she hadn’t eaten since her breakfast croissant and coffee. She considered room service but decided she needed to get out of her room and clear her head. She also needed, as Dev had grimly instructed, to think more.
After a fierce internal debate, she picked up the house phone. A lifetime of etiquette hammered in by the duchess demanded she advise Dev of her intention
