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Luc looked smug, and then he was advancing on her, bending down, effortlessly flipping open the safety belt. Jesse was trying to swat his hands away but to no avail. Before she knew it Luc was hefting her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
She was speechless and slightly winded. She was vaguely aware of the steward carrying some things out of the plane—her things—and going ahead of them, presumably to put them in the Jeep. As he went past them again, back towards the plane, she heard Luc say, ‘Thanks, Steven. I’ll call your boss when I want you to come back. It might be a few days.’
Jesse gasped and hit Luc’s back. ‘Stop this! Put me down!’ But her words were weak and ineffectual from this position.
She heard the steps being pushed away and the plane’s engine revving up and clenched her hands into fists. Luc got to the Jeep and put her down, all but lifting her into the passenger seat, securing the seat belt around her before closing her door.
He was in the driver’s seat and locking the doors from the inside before she’d even got her breath back. She was sputtering and gasping with indignation, and then Luc looked at her and grinned.
‘I have to admit this is far more satisfying than I expected it to be.’
He turned back and, much more expertly than Jesse had, drove them off the airfield and to the villa. Jesse sat and fumed, arms crossed. And secretly battled the million butterflies that were hopping around in her belly. She kept her eyes forward, averting them from Luc’s big, capable hands and his thighs in those faded jeans.
Jesse heard a sound from the back of the Jeep. She looked back and gasped when she saw Tigger was in a cat basket. She glanced at Luc. ‘But … how?’
Jesse had only that morning left him with her apartment security guard, who’d assured her that his daughter would take care of Tigger.
Luc didn’t answer straight away. He drove through the gates of the villa, pressing the button to close them behind him, but Jesse was barely aware of that. All sorts of emotions were erupting in her belly. Why had he brought Tigger? What did it mean?
Luc cast her a quick
glance. ‘Deborah, my secretary, explained the situation to your security guard. She brought Tigger to the plane just ahead of your arrival.’
Jesse sat back in the seat. They were pulling up to the villa now, and she said suspiciously, ‘What situation?’
Luc stopped the Jeep smoothly, undid his belt and got out. He then took out Tigger’s basket and came around to open Jesse’s door. She scrambled out before he could touch her, far too aware of how it had felt to be thrown over his shoulder.
She asked again. ‘What situation?’
Luc just strode ahead of her and said, ‘Patience is a virtue, Jesse.’
Jesse slammed the Jeep door shut, feeling like a petulant child. With no choice, she followed him into the hallway. She said to his back, ‘What about my meetings? I’m expected in Oslo right now.’
Luc turned around. ‘I took the liberty of tracking down one of the few hackers out there not employed by you and paid him to hack into your account. I got him to send e-mails postponing all your meetings. You might want to look into hiring him as he did such a good job.’ He gestured with a hand. ‘I don’t think I need to show you around, do you? Your tour was quite comprehensive the last time.’
He turned again and started striding towards the kitchen. Jesse followed him with hands clenched, still in shock that he’d turned the tables so neatly on her.
‘Luc …’
When she got there he’d put Tigger’s basket down and let him out, and the fast-growing kitten was already frolicking in the grass and running after butterflies.
‘Luc—’
He went to the cooker and she could see that something was already on the stove, cooking. He’d obviously been here for a while and had started preparing food.
He glanced up, for all the world as if this was an entirely normal occurrence. ‘I made some pasta for lunch. You’re probably hungry, and I know how crabby you get if you don’t eat properly.’
Jesse just blinked at him. Something much more volatile was happening inside her now. Emotion was cracking and spreading. ‘Luc, what are you doing?’
He ignored her and came to steer her into a chair; he poured her some wine. ‘Just … relax, Jesse. We’ll eat and then talk, okay?’
Jesse watched him as he went back to tend to the food. She might almost have imagined that he sounded nervous, and those emotions in her belly grew a lot more tangled and volatile.
For once Jesse was happy not to push it, afraid of what he might say, and a couple of minutes later Luc served her up a delicious-looking plate of penne in a simple tomato sauce, with crusty bread.
They ate, and it was the most surreal meal Jesse had ever had, with neither of them saying a word.
When they were finished Jesse cleared the plates. A strong feeling of déjà-vu caught her unawares, making her stumble slightly. Past and present were dangerously meshed. She had to grip the sink for a moment.
