Читать книгу The Dreaming Of... Collection - Оливия Гейтс - Страница 35
ОглавлениеREYES FOUND HIMSELF riveted by the frank admission, unable to look away from the open candour in Jasmine’s face as she looked back at him. For the first time in his life, he found himself speechless.
I did it.
In all the imagined scenarios when he’d dreamed of exacting his revenge, not once had he entertained the notion that she would admit her guilt so readily.
He wondered why he was surprised. Weren’t her audacity, her sheer bolshiness what had attracted him a month ago in Rio? Yet even now, Reyes could see that her reaction, while mostly convincing, was just a front. But a front that hid what? What was Jasmine Nichols keeping from him?
He continued to stare at her. She stared back, her gaze unflinching. Against his will, he felt his blood firing up, his heartbeat quicken. Shifting in his seat, he sat back, took a deep breath.
Jasmine had made things easy for him. He now didn’t need to bother with interrogating her. She’d admitted her guilt and he had her confession. Her punishment would wait until he’d dealt with more important matters.
‘Gracias,’ he murmured, breaking eye contact. The strange sense of loss he felt was immediately pushed aside.
‘What are you thanking me for?’ she asked.
‘Saving me the time and energy of interrogating you. Who did you give the treaty to?’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘You’re wrong. When the time is right you’ll give me a name. Every person responsible for this chaos will be brought to justice.’
Despite the fire in her eyes, she swallowed and looked away.
His car swung into the last stretch of road leading to his estate and a sense of satisfaction stole over him. In London, he’d felt at a slight loss; that control wasn’t totally within his grasp. Within touching distance of the place he called his second home, his control returned.
San Estrela was his mother’s birthplace and where she had married his father. Reyes had maybe one or two fairly happy holidays here as a child...until everything had turned sour. He wouldn’t be creating any more happy memories by bringing his prisoner here, but he had no choice.
As much as it burned him to admit it, he couldn’t yet return to Santo Sierra. He needed to rally economic support in order to get the talks with Valderra back on track. Plus, at present, he wasn’t entirely sure whom he could trust in his own council.
His insides clenched as he thought of his father. Ruthlessly, he pushed the feeling aside. If he was to achieve what he was aiming for, he needed to clear his mind of his grief; of making things right with the father he’d lost for so long. Ironically, it was his own downfall with Jasmine Nichols that had made Reyes see his father in a different light. To not judge the old man so harshly for his own mistakes.
He would return to his father’s bedside soon enough. Make amends. Hopefully before it was too late.
He alighted from the car and automatically held out his hand. Jasmine took it and straightened beside him a second later. He dropped her hand, not wanting to acknowledge how her skin felt against his.
A frown crossed her face before she masked it.
Reyes didn’t know what to do with that look. On the one hand, she remained stoic in the face of her guilt, yet on the other she looked at him with contrition. The enigma unsettled and irritated him.
Pushing aside the feeling, he mounted the stairs as the door swung open to reveal his major-domo, Armando. The man wore the same anxious look he’d seen on so many Santo Sierran faces.
Reminded that his people were living in a state of constant worry made Reyes’s chest tighten.
Knowing the cause of all this turmoil stood two steps behind him made his blood simmer as he greeted Armando.
‘This is Miss Jasmine Nichols. She’ll be my guest for the duration of my stay. She is, however, not permitted to leave the house or grounds under any circumstances. If she attempts to leave, use all means necessary to prevent her,’ he instructed.
‘You don’t need to do that. I know why I’m here. You have my word that I won’t run away.’
‘You’ll forgive me if I don’t find your word reassuring?’
She inhaled sharply. ‘I suppose I deserve that,’ she murmured.
Reyes frowned at the hurt in her voice.
Armando, his usual capable, unruffled self, barely blinked at the exchange. ‘I will put her in the Valencia Suite, Your Highness.’
‘No, the Leon Suite next to mine will suffice.’
‘Very well, Your Highness.’
Reyes turned down the hall towards his study and had barely taken half a dozen steps when he heard the click of heels racing after him.
He stopped. ‘Did you want something?’
She looked pale, her face creased in concern as her eyes fell. When she began to visibly tremble, Reyes frowned. She hadn’t been well yesterday, but she’d reassured the doctor this morning that she was fine.
‘What do you mean by any means necessary?’ she asked.
‘Stay in the house and within the grounds and you’ll never have to find out. Understood?’
A tinge of relief brought colour to her cheeks. Reyes didn’t realise how disconcerting her paleness was until she regained her composure.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t just do nothing. I’ll go out of my mind.’
‘That’s your punishment for now. Do otherwise and I’ll have to revise my decision.’
She sighed. ‘Rey—I mean, Your Highness.’ Her hand lifted, as if to touch him. ‘Can I have my phone back? Please, I need to let my parents know where I am. My mother will send the cavalry out in full force if I don’t, and, trust me, you don’t want that.’ A small, wistful smile touched her lips.
The idea of her delusional mother, sitting snug in her home, worrying about her perfect daughter, made his teeth clench. No doubt Jasmine had succeeded in pulling the wool over her parents’ eyes the way she’d done with him. And yet the thought of the perfect family picture all that togetherness presented sent a dart of something very close to jealousy through him.
He’d never had a parent worry over him like that. His mother had been too caught up in trying to turn his father’s existence into a living hell to worry about the two children who’d needed her attention. And his father had been too busy turning himself inside out for a faithless woman. Reyes had been a young boy when he’d realised there wouldn’t be any scrap of attention from either of his parents.
It was the reason boarding school had been a relief. It was the reason he’d chosen not to form attachments to any woman. Sex for the sake of it had been his mantra.
Until Anaïs. Until his mother’s death.
After that even sex hadn’t mattered.
Nothing had mattered. Nothing but duty.
Feeling the bitterness encroach, Reyes whirled and stalked towards his study. ‘See Armando. He’ll show you where the phone is. But one call is all you get. Make it count.’
* * *
Jasmine ended the call to her mother and put the phone down in the seriously gorgeous solarium Armando had shown her into. She took a calming breath and looked around her. Outside, a carpet of rich green grass rolled away towards a stand of cypress trees at the bottom of the valley they’d climbed out of. To the right, a more cultivated garden, hedged with roses, bougainvillea and hyacinths grew beyond a sun-washed terrace. She stood for a moment, letting the sun and stunning surroundings wash over her.
As prisons went, this one wasn’t so bad, she mused. Although if she had to compare jailors, she would’ve preferred one who didn’t make her pulse jump, who didn’t make her wish her path to this place had been different.
In the car earlier, she’d refused to give Joaquin’s name, partly because of what it would mean for her stepfather. But she’d also shied away from the conversation because she’d been afraid Reyes would find out about her past. That he’d discover that the woman he’d taken to bed had grown up in a council estate and been nearly initiated into a drug-dealing gang. That she had a juvenile record she’d never be able to erase.
He might detest her now, but that was far better than his repulsion, his scorn.
The chirp of a bird steered her from another unwanted trip down memory lane. She’d been taking those trips far too often these last weeks. Ever since that night in Rio, in fact. She needed to snap out of it. Put it behind her.
She would face whatever punishment Reyes chose to dole out on her, but the past belonged in the past.
A sound from behind her made her turn.
Armando entered, pushing a trolley laden with food. ‘I do not know the señorita’s preference, so I have brought a selection.’
She’d missed breakfast again because she hadn’t been able to stomach any of the food the embassy had laid out for them this morning. Lately, any thought of food made her stomach roil. So she approached the trolley cautiously. And breathed easier once she could look at the mouthwatering selection of tapas without turning green.
Perhaps telling the doctor she was fine this morning had been a mistake...
Thanking Armando, she heaped her plate with bread, ham, and a green salad and took a seat at the dining area near the window. She polished off the food in record time and went back for seconds, adding plump olives marinated in chilli oil.
She was about to pick up her cutlery when Reyes strolled in. Without a word, he selected his own food, then pulled up a chair opposite her.
In low tones, he dismissed Armando and shook out his napkin.
‘So,’ he started conversationally, ‘you told your mother I was your boyfriend.’ It wasn’t a question. It was an observation, marred with thick layers of distaste.
Jasmine’s appetite fled. Her cutlery dropped noisily onto the table. ‘How did you know that?’
One sleek brow arched. ‘Did I not mention it? All incoming and outgoing calls from San Estrela are monitored. And yes, I have a zero-trust policy where you’re concerned.’
Despite the heat engulfing her face at the pointed remark, she met his gaze head-on. ‘If you were listening then you would’ve heard that my mother assumed you were my boyfriend. I didn’t—’
‘Correct that assumption. You’ve been caught in yet another lie, Miss Nichols. It’s quite astonishing how they trip so easily from your lips.’ His gaze dropped to her lips and she felt a guilty tingle as if he’d branded her mouth with just that one look.
‘I could hardly tell her I was being held prisoner somewhere in Northern Spain!’
He ripped a piece of bread in half, dipped it in his olive oil and took a healthy bite. ‘Maybe you should have. For her own good, she needs to know she doesn’t have the perfect daughter she seems to think she does.’
‘You don’t know me and you don’t know my mother, so don’t presume to judge us. Besides, what makes you think she believes I’m perfect?’
‘She must do. She seemed to eat up all the lies you fed her without question.’
Jasmine was tempted to tell Reyes of her mother’s one fatal flaw—she refused to see the bad in anyone. Her blindly trusting nature had seen her duped out of her money over and over by ruthless men. It was that nature that had landed them where Jasmine had been forced down a path of near permanent ruin.
It was a place Jasmine didn’t like to remind her mother of, or ever revisit herself, if she could help it.
‘It’s easier for my mother to take things at face value.’ Her words emerged with much more bitter introspection than she’d intended. Aware of just how much she’d let slip, Jasmine clamped her jaw shut and tried not to even breathe. But it was too late.
Reyes’s head cocked to the side in the now oh-so-familiar way. ‘Interesting. She knows and she accepts you just the way you are?’ The way he said it, almost wistfully, drew her gaze to him.
He was staring at her and yet she got the feeling his mind was somewhere else altogether. Somewhere he didn’t want to relive, but couldn’t seem to help.
She picked up her fork and speared an olive. A quick whiff of it had her setting it down again. She tried a piece of ham and chewed that instead. After swallowing, she answered, ‘Yes, she does. She likes to think that people change. So do I, incidentally.’
As if snapping out of whatever place he’d been, he sharpened his gaze. ‘No, they don’t. They like to pretend they do. Some do their best to present a different face to the world, but people inherently remain the same underneath.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
‘Why, because you’ve changed? You’ve somehow seen some mystic light and repented all your sins?’
She swallowed. ‘Yes.’
‘We both know that’s not true, don’t we, Jasmine? Otherwise you wouldn’t have stolen from me.’
‘I had no choice.’
His jaw tightened. ‘You had a choice. You made the wrong one.’
After a moment, she nodded. ‘Yes, maybe you’re right.’
Her answer silenced him for several moments, his speculative gaze on her face. ‘And how many times have you made the wrong choice in the past?’
‘My past is none of your business.’ And not a place she chose to willingly visit. The stigma of being judged was one she’d learned from when her college boyfriend had treated her like a pariah when she’d confessed her past. ‘I’m more concerned about the future. If you’re going to hand me over to the authorities, I’d prefer it to be sooner rather than later.’
His face slowly hardened into the mask she detested, but had unfortunately become very familiar with. ‘Don’t push me, Jasmine. If you didn’t steal from me for yourself, tell me who you did it for.’
Her heart lurched. ‘I can’t. Punish me, if you need to, but leave anyone else out of it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the person I did it for is important to me.’
‘How important?’ he flung back.
‘He...saved me. He didn’t have to, but he did. I’m sorry, Re—Your Highness, but I won’t let him pay for my mistakes.’
‘So this person saved you, but decided it was okay to set you back on a destructive path to suit his purposes?
‘No, it wasn’t like that.’
His hand slammed down. ‘That was exactly what it was, Jasmine. To trap me so you could steal from me. From my people. To throw years of hard work into utter chaos and endanger the livelihood of millions, all for the sake of one person.’
‘Yes, I know it seems irrational but that’s what happened. Believe me, I’ll do anything to make things right.’
He relaxed in his seat with the grace of a born predator, his long, rangy frame seeming to go on for ever. His smile held no mirth, only cynicism. ‘How bravely you embrace your sins. It’s almost admirable.’
She set her fork down. ‘Stop toying with me and just get this over and done with.’
His smile widened, his teeth stark against the darkness of his beard. For some reason, the sight made her belly flip over. Whether it was from fear or another emotion, Jasmine didn’t want to examine too closely.
‘You’re not in a position to dictate terms to me, Miss Nichols. Remember, you’re my prisoner. I will choose the time of your trial. And the terms of your punishment. Push me and you’ll like the consequences of either even less.’
* * *
Over the next four days she barely saw Reyes. She caught glimpses of him—as he paced the terrace just before the midday sun hit full blast, or as Armando took a tray into his study. Once she looked down from her window early in the morning and saw him swimming, his powerful strokes carrying him from one end of the enormous pool to the other.
Voyeuristically, she watched him, unable to look away from his magnificent, streamlined body. When he heaved himself out of the pool and scrubbed a towel through his wet hair, desire settled low and heavy in her belly.
As she lay in bed now, remembering how that body had felt up close against hers in Rio drenched her whole body in sensation. Ashamed, she flipped over, punched her frustration into a pillow and pulled the covers over herself as if her actions would block out the feelings.
But being in bed only reminded her of another bed, where their bodies had writhed, strained into each other as they’d ridden the storm of passion breaking over them.
Unnerved by the sheer depth of her riotous feelings, Jasmine threw back the covers and jumped out of bed.
Too late, she remembered that, lately, her mornings were best approached gingerly. Rushing to the bathroom, she vomited until her eyes stung.
Afterwards, clutching the sink, her fingers dug into the cold porcelain as she calculated dates and tried not to panic. She’d had her period two weeks ago, albeit a lighter than usual one.
And Reyes had used condoms in Rio. Hadn’t he?
No, it was all in her head. Being cooped up in San Estrela was making her stir-crazy!
Today she was going to offer Reyes whatever input she thought would help with salvaging the treaty. Failing that, she’d ask him what he intended to do with her. This suspended limbo was sending her imagination into overdrive.
Why else would she think she could be pregnant with Reyes’s baby? The very thought made her tremble.
Quickly showering, she dressed in a light blue sleeveless linen dress with a tan belt and slipped her feet into tan heels. Brushing her hair and tying it loosely at her nape, she massaged a small amount of sun protection into her skin and face and left her suite.
Carmelita, the housekeeper, was carrying a large bale of towels towards the guest suites in the west wing when Jasmine reached the top of the stairs. About to ask the whereabouts of Reyes, Jasmine paused at the sound of male voices in the hallway.
Reyes strolled into view, accompanied by four men. The first thing she noticed was that his beard was gone. A tiny, completely unprepared and shocking part of her mourned that she’d never got to experience the rasp of his facial hair against her skin.
The second thing she noticed was that all the men wore suits. And that she was the sole focus of their attention as she stood, poised, at the top of the stairs.
A block of silence passed.
Reyes turned to the men, his voice low. Without glancing her way, he led them to his study and shut the door with a firm click.
Jasmine stood rooted to the step, unable to move. She wasn’t sure why she was so hurt that she’d been dismissed like a piece of trash.
What did she expect?
She was a prisoner here. Barely worth the food or accommodation she took up. Did she really expect Reyes to introduce her as his guest?
With leaden feet, she came down the stairs and went onto the terrace, where she usually breakfasted.
Carmelita brought her fresh coffee. She helped herself to a slice of toast and a plump orange, but her mind churned. When Carmelita emerged again to clear away the dishes, Jasmine’s curiosity got the better of her.
‘Who are those men with His Highness?’ she asked casually.
The housekeeper looked uncomfortable for a moment, then she replied, ‘One is the Santo Sierra embajador to France. Other men are from Santo Sierra.’
‘How long have they been here?’
‘They came late last night.’ She bustled about, hurriedly gathering the used tableware.
Unwilling to question her any further, Jasmine left her in peace. Clearly, her meeting with Reyes would have to take a backseat to his meeting with his ambassador and council. But she needed something, anything to stop her thinking of what her past week’s morning sickness meant.
Because if her suspicions were true...then...oh, God!
Going back to fetch her sunglasses, Jasmine came downstairs and let herself out through the solarium.
She bypassed the gardens and headed for the trees. In a distant past, she’d harboured a secret wish to be a gardener. That was before another one of her mother’s liaisons had run off with her savings and they’d ended up in a tower block, where the only green in sight had been from the bile-coloured paint on the walls.
Jasmine had been only six at the time, but she’d vowed never to let her emotions blind her the way her mother did. In fact she’d killed off all her emotions...until Stephen had forced her to face them. To choose a better life than the one she’d been contemplating at seventeen.
She trailed her fingers over the expertly pruned foliage and imagined herself tending the plants and trees all year round.
Spotting a greenhouse at the end of a row of hedges, Jasmine veered towards it.
Before she could turn the handle, heavy footsteps pounded the ground behind her. In a heartbeat, Armando and two of Reyes’s bodyguards had surrounded her. One bodyguard took her by the arm and marched her towards the villa.
‘What are you doing? Let go of me!’
He didn’t respond. Back indoors, she managed to rip herself from the guard’s grasp as the door to the study flew open.
Jasmine stared at a fuming Reyes, refusing to cower under his oppressive stare.
‘I thought we had an agreement.’ His grey eyes flashed with barely suppressed anger.
She massaged her stinging elbow. ‘The agreement still holds. I haven’t run away, have I?’
‘You left the house without permission.’
‘To go to the garden! I’m going insane cooped up in your gilded prison. How did you know I’d left the house anyway?’
‘Every time a door is opened in the house, an alarm goes off in the security suite. My men alerted me.’ His gaze dropped to where she was nursing her elbow. His face grew darker. ‘Why are you rubbing your elbow? Are you hurt?’
‘Do you care?’
He glared at her for several seconds. Then, turning to his bodyguard, he murmured a few words.
Jasmine’s heart twisted, then thundered in outrage when she saw what was being handed to Reyes.
‘No! If you dare come near me with that thing, I’ll—’
‘You’ll what? Scream? Go ahead. Give it your best shot.’ He stepped closer, the handcuffs gleaming in his hands.
Memories, the worst kind of memories, crowded her mind, pushing fear up through her belly into her chest. Her breath shortened. ‘No, Reyes— No, don’t. Please!’
Hyperventilating, she tried to step back. Her feet wouldn’t move. The blood drained out of her head as she fought to breathe. Her head grew woozy with fog. She started to sway.
‘If you insist on disobeying me, this is your only—Jasmine?’
His voice wove in and out. She blinked, fighting the light-headedness. Damn, either she really was unwell, or she was turning into a pathetic shadow of herself around this man.
Either way, it had to stop!
