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He stood up and shook his head, and said mock sternly, ‘It’s not Sanchis any more, Jesse. It’s Luc;
we’ve gone way too far to go back now.’
With that he turned and left the room. Jesse hugged the phone to her chest for a long moment. She felt ridiculously emotional because the truth was that she had no one to call. No one who really cared where she was, or with whom. Luc’s words floated back to her. We’ve gone way too far to go back now.
As she put the phone back into the safe and locked it again, Jesse pushed down the prickling sense of foreboding.
When she went into the kitchen a little later it was empty, but pans were in the sink—evidence of Luc’s dinner. She tried not to feel hurt that he hadn’t offered her anything, and then realised how ridiculous that was when he was her prisoner and owed her nothing. But somehow in the past couple of days she’d almost got used to Luc thinking of her needs too.
She found some cheese and bread in the fridge and managed to make a passable sandwich without maiming herself this time, sitting down to eat it at the table, with Tigger running back and forth by her feet. Jesse couldn’t help but smile at the antics of the tiny kitten. Despite its very obvious mal-nourishment it was so … ebullient, as if it hadn’t realised the precariousness of its own survival.
When she was finished she washed up, including Luc’s pans, and filled Tigger’s bowl with more milk. She replaced the papers with fresh ones and put him back in the box, where he curled up.
Jesse put her hands on her hips and sighed, looking down at him. And then, feeling curiously restless and wondering where Luc was, she went back through the house. There was no sign of Luc, but Jesse knew he wouldn’t be far because it was dark outside and the alarm was on.
She sat down on the couch and saw the fallen console from the other night. Within a few minutes she’d set up the game and was happily ensconced in the fantasy world of Final Retribution: to the Death.
Luc stood watching Jesse from the doorway. She was oblivious to anything but the game she was engrossed in, her fingers flying with almost inhuman speed over the controls on the console. There was a tiny frown between her eyes and, as much as Luc wanted to deny it, it was adorable. With her legs crossed and in bare feet, she looked like a tousle-haired sexy elf.
The anger that had been fuelling him earlier had dissipated a little. It was as if he’d only then allowed the enormity of how powerless he was to hit him—when he’d thought about his mother and sister and realised that he wouldn’t know if they needed him. The most enraging thing about that was that it hadn’t been his uppermost concern from the start. Because this woman had taken up every space in his head—and his libido.
His mouth settled to a grim line now as he took her in. There was only one way he could think of to assert some dominance in this situation and it had been far too long coming … It was time to give Jesse Moriarty a little taste of feeling out of control for a change.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JESSE’S skin prickled and her concentration faltered for a second when she sensed Luc’s presence in the room. She glanced up and saw him prowling towards the sofa. Before he got there he reached down and picked something up. It was the other game console.
He sat down beside her, far too close for comfort, and smiled at her. His weight meant that she fell towards him and Jesse quickly scrambled back, out of the danger zone, putting some space between them.
She tried not to be blinded by his smile and asked a little too breathily, ‘Did you want something?’
He looked at her for a long intense moment that had a very predictable effect on her heart-rate, and then sat back and said lazily, ‘This is a game for two, isn’t it?’
Jesse felt stiff and prim, and severely threatened. ‘Yes, but I’m playing both parts and I’m on one of the highest levels …’
‘So what …? Are you saying I can’t join in? You did say you wanted me to be as comfortable as possible here.’
Jesse didn’t trust this wide-eyed innocence for a second. She wanted to snap back, That doesn’t mean smiling at me and walking around half-naked at any given opportunity and making me want you.
Shock as those last few words registered in her brain made Jesse blurt out, ‘Fine. We’ll start a new game, I’m Princess Olga … you can be King Ordak.’
Luc tutted. ‘Just because I’m the man I have to be King Ordak?’
Jesse rolled her eyes. ‘Fine, you be the Princess and I’ll be Ordak.’
‘Does this mean I get to take off your head?’
The unmistakable light of challenge lit Jesse’s eyes. ‘You can try.’
‘Brave words, King Ordak, brave words …’
Jesse had lost track of time about three games later. She’d expected to walk all over Luc, but he’d caught on to the rules faster than anyone she’d ever seen and had just subjected her to a particularly brutal death by skewering her with a wooden pole.
‘You don’t have to look so pleased with yourself,’ she grumbled—and then was taken aback to discover that she was not only having something that approximated fun but also once again she was feeling comfortable with Luc.
Before she could really register that, he said easily, ‘You don’t seem to mind the blood in these games.’
Jesse tensed at being reminded of her weakness and how gentle he’d been with her. ‘No,’ she said carefully. ‘I know it’s not real.’
