at her.
‘No way.’
And then he dismissed her by looking back to the clothes. Most disturbingly, they were all in his exact size.
‘Don’t tell me—you hacked into my assistant’s brief on what to order from my tailor?’
Luc could hear Jesse shift uncomfortably.
‘The information was easy to find. I wanted to make sure you’d be as comfortable as possible, Mr Sanchis.’
Luc dropped the jacket and stalked towards Jesse. He placed an arm above her head against the doorframe and saw how her eyes widened. Her cheeks flushed and her breathing grew more rapid. Interesting. Much to his chagrin, his own breathing felt a tiny bit more laboured.
Disgusted with himself, Luc dropped his arm and said curtly, ‘I think we’ve skipped enough levels of social niceties to earn first-name status don’t you? Luc is my name.’
Jesse felt as if she was floundering badly. When he’d stalked over to her just now she’d felt a drowning sensation. Her insides had tightened while simultaneously feeling as if they were melting. And her nipples were as hard as bullets against the lace of her bra.
Before she could react he was stalking away from her and out of the room. Jesse started after him, calling, ‘Where are you going?’
He said, without turning around, ‘To find a phone so I can call someone and arrange to get off this godforsaken island and away from you. This ridiculous charade has gone on long enough.’
He stopped abruptly at the bottom of the stairs and Jesse almost careened into his back. She stopped herself just in time. He was looking from left to right and then he strode off, opening and closing doors to various rooms. Jesse’s heart was thumping, and she held her breath when he came to the door of the study. He opened it and went in, and she winced when she heard a very crude curse.
He came back out, hands on hips, expression thunderous. ‘You’ve removed any means of internet communication—I take it the landline too?’
Jesse nodded slowly. She’d locked everything securely into the villa’s safe. She had her own phone, of course, but that was safely tucked away where Sanchis couldn’t find it.
He came close to Jesse and she fought to hold her ground—even when he came so close that all she could smell was his scent and she had to tip her head back to look at him.
‘You will pay for this, Jesse … you know that, don’t you? I’ll do whatever it takes to get off this island.’
THE threat in Luc’s voice was explicit, but disturbingly all Jesse felt was a coil of tension low down in her belly at hearing him use her name for the first time. It made her want to squirm.
She refused to acknowledge that physical reaction, or let him intimidate her, and said, ‘I know that my actions will have consequences, and I don’t care.’
Because all she did care about was making sure that her father faced up to the consequences of his actions and was rendered impotent. Finally.
Luc looked so deeply into Jesse’s eyes for such a long moment that she literally started to feel dizzy, and then finally he stepped back. She breathed out. Abruptly he turned and started to stalk away from her, clearly looking for something else. After a moment Jesse hurried after him again.
She found him in the kitchen at the back of the villa, which had French doors opening out onto a terraced area and a lush garden, where a pool and pool house were tucked away behind artful foliage. It was stupendously idyllic, but unfortunately completely wasted on Jesse and her very reluctant guest.
Luc was opening and closing doors and cupboards. He acknowledged her presence without turning around. ‘There’s enough food here for an army.’
Weakly, because she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the way his trousers were stretched across hard buttocks, Jesse said, ‘It’s enough to last about two weeks, actually.’
He straightened up and turned around and Jesse averted her gaze upwards guiltily.
Luc placed his hands on the island in the centre of the kitchen. ‘Two weeks?’
Jesse swallowed. ‘Just in case of any unforeseen eventualities.’
‘What kind of eventualities, Jesse?’
Jesse’s insides felt funny again at hearing him say her name. In a rush she said, ‘Like a storm, or something out of our control, extending our stay longer than I’d planned.’
Luc turned away again with a muttered curse. He started taking things out of the fridge and cupboards, laying them out on the counter.
A little redundantly Jesse asked, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Making myself something to eat—as if it wasn’t glaringly obvious.’
His sarcasm bounced off Jesse. She was more than surprised to see how dextrous he was at whipping up a delicious-looking sandwich in minutes. He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, and then after a second reached in again and took out a chilled bottle of wine. With an economy of movement he pulled the cork from the bottle with a corkscrew, and then put the water under his arm and the wine and sandwich in respective hands.
He completely ignored Jesse and made his way back out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the bedrooms.
Jesse followed him and asked, ‘Where are you going?’
Luc stopped at the top of the stairs and sighed. He turned around. ‘I’m going to my room to eat and drink and get away from you—which seems to be about the only thing I can do at the moment.’
Jesse saw one very large hand clamped around the wine bottle and her throat felt dry. ‘Don’t you need a glass?’
‘No,’ came the curt reply, ‘I don’t need a glass.’
And with that he turned and disappeared. A couple of seconds later she winced as she heard the slamming of a door.
Jesse turned around and sank down onto the bottom stair. The enormity of everything that had happened hit her then, and she lifted a hand to her head. It was trembling from the adrenalin. The main front door was still open, and she looked out blankly at the benignly beautiful view.
She had managed to incarcerate Luc Sanchis on this island. She was now alone, for the next ten days at least, with one of the world’s most powerful men and a potentially lethal enemy. She recalled how he’d turned on the stairs, his entire body moving with innately masculine grace, and heat pooled in her lower belly. He was six feet four of hard, muscle-packed, angry testosterone, and the look in his eyes just now had been murderous.
Luc sat in a chair on his private balcony. The Mediterranean stretched out as far as the eye could see, with not another piece of land or a boat in sight. The threat of a storm appeared to have passed for the moment and the glorious view mocked him. His hand was still
