Maya Blake - Innocent in His Diamonds

CHAPTER TWO

SHOCK RICOCHETED THROUGH ANA. ‘I don’t believe you.’ The words spilled out before she could stop them.

His mouth compressed, and his eyes were as cold as the Alps of his native Switzerland.

Without answering, he pressed a button in the keypad near his wrist. She watched with escalating dread as a monitor sprang up from the centre console and flickered to life. Once it had clicked into place he angled it to face her.

The jumble of words and numbers scrolling beneath the picture on the screen sent a surge of almost debilitating insecurity rushing through her. Feeling his gaze on her, she struggled to remain calm, not to give him any more ammunition against her. But even without adequate understanding Ana had watched enough television to grasp what the graph meant. Heart thudding, she followed the red line descending with alarming speed.

At the top right hand corner of the screen she saw the time emblazoned clearly: 15:32.

‘Turn it off,’ she snapped hoarsely.

‘That won’t make it go away,’ he rasped.

Pulling her gaze from the screen, she glanced down at her hands, saw the death grip she had on her purse and forced herself to relax. ‘Turn it off, Bastien. You’ve made your point.’

The screen disappeared into its casing.

Nervously, she licked her lips. ‘There must be something we...I can do?’

‘ Not being caught in possession of drugs would’ve been the single, most positive outcome to this whole situation.’

She glared at him. ‘We can keep circling this conversation or we can discuss a useful way forward. Either way, my answer isn’t going to change. I don’t take drugs!’

‘So you were framed? That’s a little too convenient, don’t you think?’ he returned.

‘ Convenient? I’ve just spent the night freezing my behind off in a cold cell for something I didn’t do. “Convenient” is the last way I’d describe my predicament.’

‘Well, you’ll have to start unravelling your predicament, fast. Your trial’s in three weeks,’ he informed her calmly.

‘Three weeks?’ Another wave of horror washed over her.

Bastien folded his arms over his chest. ‘You expect me to believe you’re not under the influence of drugs, and yet you can’t recall events that happened less than an hour ago.’

‘I was scared—all right?’ Her voice emerged more shrilly than she’d intended.

A flash of emotion lit his eyes. She wanted to fool herself into thinking it was compassion, but it disappeared way too quickly for her to be certain.

She cleared her throat. ‘I know I should’ve paid more attention in court. And I was. Before...before you showed up.’

‘Are you saying I distracted you?’

‘It wouldn’t be the first time,’ she replied.

His eyes narrowed but he didn’t respond. Their time in Cannes was a subject they both wanted to avoid.

So why did she keep thinking about it...and reliving it?

No more.

She forced herself to look into his eyes.

‘The last twelve hours have been difficult. I know it looks bad, but I haven’t done anything wrong. Someone put the drugs in my bag. I don’t know why. I’m innocent.’

She breathed a sigh of satisfaction when her voice stayed even. She could do this. Remaining calm was key to finding a way out of this mess.

‘Miss Duval, whether you’re innocent or not, my company continues to haemorrhage money.’ He flicked a glance at his watch. ‘The market closes in twenty-five minutes. Someone needs to be held accountable.’

‘But I can’t do anything in twenty-five minutes!’ Hysteria threatened to dissolve her shaky calm. Sucking in a desperate breath, she glanced out of the window.

And stiffened.

‘This isn’t the way to my flat.’ Nor was it the way to the agency. The crazy thought that he was kidnapping her surfaced. Frowning, she brushed it away. Bastien had no reason to kidnap her. ‘Where are you taking me?’

He took his time to brush away an invisible piece of lint from his neatly pressed trousers before resting his unsettling gaze on her. ‘A condition of your bail was that I’d vouch for your whereabouts at all times. Which means that until your trial where I go, you go. I have to report to the board in Geneva first thing in the morning. You’re coming with me.’

Ana’s mouth dropped open for several stunned seconds before she snapped it shut. ‘Like hell I am! Stop the car.’

She strained against her seatbelt, renewed trepidation rattling through her chest. She’d been in his company for less than an hour and already a feeling of panic far greater than she’d felt in court threatened her. After what had happened the last time she’d spent more than half an hour in his company, she didn’t want to go a mile with Bastien Heidecker— never mind several hundred.

Why on earth hadn’t she paid more attention in court? She would never have agreed to this condition.

Like you had a choice...

She silenced the taunting voice. There was always a choice, and she wasn’t about to hand him her head on a plate. Furiously, she fumbled with the seatbelt, cursing silently when her numb fingers couldn’t work it free.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he asked, his tone mildly amused.

‘Did you not hear what I said? I’m not going anywhere with you.’ The belt snapped free. She lunged for the door. Thankfully, the car was cruising at a slow pace.

‘And what? You intend to jump out of a moving car to avoid that?’

She grabbed the handle, her need to get out of Bastien’s disturbing sphere of control paramount. ‘Tell your driver to stop the car.’

Speculative eyes narrowed on her face. She was close to hysteria, but she didn’t care. The need to escape was a living, writhing being inside her, demanding compliance.

‘So you intend to flout the law and walk away from your responsibilities?’ he asked, his voice a chilled knife.

‘I intend to walk away from your bullying tactics. Don’t think I don’t know why you’re doing this.’

‘And why is it, exactly?’

Because of what happened in Cannes! Because of what my mother did to your family!

She swallowed the words. Voicing the details of their jagged past didn’t seem like such a good idea.

‘What good will taking me out of the country do? I’m much better off here, finding out what happened, don’t you think?’ she countered.

‘I have no wish to be hauled to jail for breaking the law, Miss Duval. Besides, how are you going to find out who supposedly framed you?’

She bit her lip. ‘I don’t know yet.’

One eyebrow quirked. ‘Let me know when you have a plan of action. In the meantime we follow the judge’s ruling to the last letter.’

Despite his steady gaze and even steadier words Ana experienced a dark foreboding. Something dangerous lurked beneath his outward calm, warning her that once she took this step there would be no going back.

The thought seized her in its grip. ‘No. I’m not going to hide from my situation, but neither am I going to Geneva with you.’

A look of cynical resignation crossed his face but he didn’t speak.

The limo stopped at a traffic light. Without waiting for an answer, she yanked open the door.

For a split second she anticipated his icy voice ordering her to stay put, or—worse—the hands that had taken such domineering control of her at the courthouse hauling her back inside. But a heartbeat later she stood on the pavement, breathing in clear, fresh air.

Free.

Not stopping to examine the weird anti-climactic sensation enveloping her, she slammed the door and whirled away.

The icy January wind cut through her flimsy dress, its bite so ferocious it took her breath away. Clutching her purse in one hand, she pulled the lapels of the warm jacket around her. The sign for Charing Cross tube station beckoned. She started towards it. Only to stumble to a stop after a few steps.