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‘And this is the solution you came up with? To detain me against my will?’
‘Until I find out whether you’re carrying my child or not? Yes.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Tell me why you haven’t taken a pregnancy test yet.’
She swallowed. ‘I don’t owe you an explanation.’
His lips thinned. ‘Then prepare to not be let out of my sight until we know one way or the other.’
‘What?’
‘Your hearing is perfectly fine, Genie.’
She looked out of the window at the swiftly disappearing landscape as if it would give her insight as to how deep his madness went. ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘That depends on a few outcomes.’
She laughed but the sound abruptly cut off when his gaze dropped to the hand she’d placed unwittingly on her flat belly. ‘You mean you’ll drop me off in Paris and you can go on your merry way to wherever once we verify I’m not pregnant?’
His gaze shot up to her. ‘You think you’re not?’
The laser-sharp intensity to the question made her breath catch because it held notes she couldn’t quite decipher. Notes that sounded like disappointment...but not quite. Like the merest hint of loss...mourning...but not quite. ‘I told you, I don’t know.’
As was becoming customary in their interaction, he let the silence stretch out for uncomfortable seconds while his gaze roamed over her face. Her hair. The tightly woven fingers in her lap. Then back up to her mouth.
Genie wanted to scream at him that she wasn’t a museum oddity to be examined quite so thoroughly. But...she’d never experienced anything like it before they met nine weeks ago.
She still hadn’t.
And social cues or not, the way this man—vastly worldly, visually arresting and far too arrogant with it, who knew he commanded female interest just by breathing—watched her was...addictive.
After minutes had passed, during which the aircraft soared into the skies, setting her heart racing faster, he looked over her shoulder.
Following his gaze, she saw the attendant who’d walked her onto the plane emerge from the galley. The attendant nodded at Seve and smiled at her.
‘Can I get you anything, Miss Merchant?’
The tart, intensely antisocial response rose and died on her tongue. She couldn’t take out her angry panic on an attendant doing her job.
About to shake her head, she glared at Seve when he murmured, ‘Some water would be great, Agnetha. Thanks.’
With another courteous smile, the attendant hurried to do her master’s bidding.
‘I commend you for holding your tongue,’ he drawled.
She glared harder. ‘I don’t make a habit of attacking people who don’t deserve it.’
His teeth bared in a breathtaking caricature of a smile. ‘That’s good to hear. We may have room for peaceful negotiation yet.’
‘Any negotiation between us was forfeit when you kidnapped me, Mr Valente.’
‘Seve,’ he insisted with a glint in his eyes that sent shivers over her body.
‘We’re not friends. I won’t pretend otherwise.’
Another slow scrutiny of her face and body. ‘But we’ve been much more,pequeña.’
‘A mistake you’ll recall I was eager to put behind me by leaving before morning.’
His face hardened, but his words were still silky smooth when he responded, ‘Are you sure that’s why you left?’
