The Virgin's Debt to Pay

by Abby Green

  The lines in Barbier’s face were as hard as granite. ‘If that is the case then why isn’t he here to defend himself?’

  Nessa refused to let herself crumble in the face of this man’s seriously intimidating stance. ‘You told him he would be prosecuted and liable for the full amount. He felt as if he had no choice.’

  Paddy’s frantic voice came back into her head.

  ‘Ness, you don’t know what this guy is capable of. He fired one of the grooms on the spot the other day. There’s no such thing as innocent till proven guilty in Barbier’s world. He’ll chew me up and spit me out! I’ll never work in the industry again...’

  Barbier’s mouth thinned. ‘The fact that he fled after that phone conversation only makes him look even guiltier.’

  More words of defence sprang to Nessa’s lips but she swallowed them back. Trying to explain to this man that her brother had been entangled with the law when he’d gone through a rebellious teenage phase was hardly likely to make him sound less guilty. Paddy had worked long and hard to turn over a new leaf, but he’d been told that if he was ever caught breaking the law again he’d serve time and have a criminal record. That was why he’d panicked and run.

  Luc Barbier regarded the woman in front of him. The fact that he was still indulging in any kind of dialogue with her was outrageous. And yet her vehemence and clear desire to protect her brother at all costs—even at her own expense—intrigued him. In his experience loyalty was a myth. Everyone was out for their own gain.

  Something occurred to him then and he cursed himself for not suspecting it sooner. He’d been too distracted by a fall of thick red hair and a slender frame. It was galling.

  ‘Maybe you’re in on it? And you were trying to retrieve the laptop to ensure that any evidence was taken care of?’

  Nessa’s limbs turned to jelly. ‘Of course I’m not in on anything. I just came here because Paddy—’ She stopped herself, not wanting to incriminate him further.

  ‘Because Paddy...what?’ Barbier asked. ‘Was too much of a coward? Or because he’s no longer in the country?’

  Nessa bit her lip. Paddy had fled to America, to hide out with her twin brother, Eoin. She’d entreated him to come back, tried to assure him that his boss couldn’t be such an ogre. Paddy’s words floated back.

  ‘No one messes with Barbier. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got criminal links...’

  For a moment Nessa had a sickening sensation. What if Barbier really was linked to—? She quickly shut that thought down, telling herself she was being melodramatic. But then a sliver of doubt entered her mind—what if Paddy was guilty?

  As soon as that registered she lambasted herself, aghast that she could have thought it for a second. This man was making her doubt herself, and her brother, who she knew would never do something so wrong, no matter what his trangressions had been in the past.

  Nessa’s jaw was tight. ‘Look. Paddy is innocent. I agree with you that he shouldn’t have run, but he has.’ She hesitated for a second, and then mentally apologised to her brother before saying, ‘He has a habit of running away when difficult things happen—he ran away for a week after our mother’s funeral.’

  Barbier looked utterly remote and then he said, ‘I’ve heard the Irish have a gift for talking their way out of situations, but it won’t work with me, Miss O’Sullivan.’

  Anger spiked again. ‘I’m not trying to get out of anything.’ She forced herself to calm down. ‘I was just trying to help by retrieving his laptop. He said that he could prove his innocence with it.’

  Barbier picked up the slim silver laptop and held it up. ‘We’ve looked at the laptop extensively and there is no evidence to support your brother’s innocence. You’ve done your brother no favours. He now looks even guiltier and you’ve possibly implicated yourself.’

  Luc watched as colour washed in and out of the woman’s expressive face. That in itself was intriguing, when so many people he encountered kept their masks firmly in place. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt free enough, if ever, to allow his real emotions to be seen.

  Still, he wouldn’t believe this award-worthy display of innocence. He’d be a fool if he did and her brother had already taken him for a fool.

  Nessa sensed any sliver of hope dwindling. Barbier was about as immovable as a rock. He put the laptop down and folded his arms again, settling his hips back against the desk behind him, legs stretched out, for all the world as if they were having a civil chat. There was nothing civil about this man. Danger oozed from every pore: Nessa just wasn’t sure what kind of danger. She felt no risk to her personal safety, in spite of Paddy’s lurid claims or the security man outside the door. It was a much more personal danger, to the place that throbbed with awareness deep inside her. An awareness that had been dormant all her life, until now.

  Barbier’s tone was mocking. ‘So you really expect me to believe that you’re here purely out of love for your poor innocent brother?’

  Fiercely she said, ‘I would do anything for my family.’

  ‘Why?’

  Barbier’s simple question took her by surprise and Nessa blinked. She hadn’t even questioned Paddy when he’d called for help. She’d immediately felt every protective instinct kick into place even though she was younger than him.

  Their family was a unit who had come through tough times and become stronger in the process.

  Their older sister Iseult had kept them all in one piece—pretty much—after the tragic death of their mother, while their father had descended into the mire of alcoholism. She had shielded Nessa and her two brothers from their father’s worst excesses, and had slowly helped him to recovery even as their stud farm and stables had fallen apart around them.

  But Iseult wasn’t here now. She had a much deserved happy life far away from here. It was up to Nessa to shoulder this burden for the sake of her brother, and her family.

  She looked at Barbier. ‘I would do anything because we love each other and we protect each other.’

  Barbier was silent for a long moment. Then he said, ‘So now you’re admitting that you’d go so far as to collude in a crime.’

  Nessa shivered under the thin covering of her fleece. She felt very alone at that moment. She knew she could contact Sheikh Nadim of Merkazad, Iseult’s husband and one of the richest men in the world. He could sort this whole thing out within hours, if he knew. But she and Paddy had agreed they wouldn’t involve Iseult or Nadim. They were expecting a baby in a few weeks and did not need to be drawn into this mess.

  She squared her shoulders and stared at Luc Barbier, hating his cool nonchalance. ‘Don’t you understand the concept of family and doing anything for them? Wouldn’t you do that for your own family?’

  Barbier suddenly looked stony. ‘I have no family, so, no, I’m not familiar with the concept.’

  A pang of emotion made Nessa’s chest tighten. No family. What on earth did that mean? She couldn’t fathom the lack of a family. That sense of protection.

  Then he said, ‘If your family are so close then I will go to whoever is capable of returning either your brother or my money.’

  Panic eclipsed Nessa’s spurt of emotion. ‘This just involves me and Paddy.’

  Barbier raised a brow. ‘I will involve whoever and whatever it takes to get my money back and ensure no adverse press results from this.’

  Nessa’s hands clenched to fists at her sides as she tried to contain her temper and appeal to any sense of decency he might have. ‘Look, not that it’s any business of yours, but my sister is going to have a baby very soon. My father is helping her and her husband and they don’t have anything to do with this. I’m taking responsibility for my brother.’

  I’m taking responsibility for my brother.

  There had been a tight ball of emotion in Luc’s chest ever since she’d asked if he understood the concept of family. Of course he didn’t. How could he when his Algerian father had disappeared before he was born, and his feckless, unstable mo
ther had died of a drugs overdose when he was just sixteen?

  The closest he’d ever come to family was the old man next door—a man broken by life, and yet who had been the one to show Luc a way out.

  Luc forced his mind away from the memories. He was beyond incredulous that this sprite of a girl—woman—was insisting on standing up to him. And that she wasn’t using her beauty to try and distract him, especially when he couldn’t be sure that he’d hidden his reaction to her. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he felt a twinge of respect.

  She was defiant, even in the face of possible prosecution. If she was calling his bluff she was doing it very, very well. He could still have the police here within minutes and she would be hauled off in handcuffs with the full weight of his legal team raining down on her narrow shoulders before she knew what was happening.

  But it wasn’t as if the police were ever first on Luc’s list of people to turn to in this kind of situation. Not because he had more nefarious routes to keeping the law—he knew about the rumours surrounding him, and as much as they amused him, they also disgusted him—but because of his experiences growing up in the gritty outskirts of Paris. Surviving each day had been a test of endurance. The police had never been there when he’d needed them, so to say he didn’t trust them was an understatement.

  He liked to take care of things his own way. Hence the rumours. Added on top of more rumours. Until he was more myth than man.

  He forced his mind back to the task at hand. And the woman. ‘Where do we go from here, then, Miss O’Sullivan? If you’re prepared to take responsibility for your brother, then perhaps you could be so kind as to write me a cheque for one million euros?’

  Nessa blanched. One million euros was more money than she was ever likely to see in her lifetime, unless her career as a jockey took off and people started giving her a chance to ride in big races and build her reputation.

  She said, as firmly as she could, ‘We don’t have that kind of money.’

  ‘Well then,’ Barbier said silkily, ‘that gets us precisely no further along in this situation. And in fact it gets worse. Thanks to your brother’s actions, I will now have to hand over another one million euros to Gio Corretti to ensure that he doesn’t ask questions about why he hasn’t received the money yet.’

  Nessa felt sick. She hadn’t considered that. ‘Maybe you could talk to him? Explain what happened?’

  Barbier laughed but it was curt and unamused. ‘I don’t need to fuel the gossip mill with stories that I’m now claiming fraud to renege on payments.’

  Nessa wanted to sit down. Her legs were wobbly again and she felt light-headed.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Barbier’s sharp question was like a slap to her face. She sucked in a deep breath. He’d taken a step towards her and suddenly the room felt even smaller. He was massive. And so dark. Possibly the most intimidating person she’d ever met.

  She couldn’t fight this man. He was too rich, too successful. Too gorgeous. She swallowed. ‘I wish I could hand you over your money right now, Mr Barbier, believe me. But I can’t. I know my brother is innocent no matter what his actions look like.’

  Nessa wracked her brains as to what she could do to appease Barbier so he wouldn’t go after Paddy. At least until Paddy had a chance to try and prove his innocence. But what could she offer this man? And then something struck her. ‘Look, all I can do is offer my services in his absence. If you have me, then can’t you accept that I’m willing to do all I can to prove his innocence?’

  For a moment, Nessa’s words hung in the air and she almost fancied that she might have got through to him. But then he straightened from the desk and the expression on his face darkened. He spat out, ‘I should have known that veneer of innocence was too good to be true.’

  That unnervingly black gaze raked her up and down, disdain etched all over his face. ‘I must admit, I might have felt differently if you’d come via the front door dressed in something a little more enticing, Miss O’Sullivan, but even then I can’t say that you’d be my type.’

  Nessa struggled to understand—he couldn’t possibly mean...but then she registered what she’d said and how it might have sounded. And, she registered that he was looking at her with disgust, not disdain. Her gut curdled as a wave of mortification rushed through her whole body, along with hurt, which made it even worse. She burned with humiliation and fury.

  ‘You know I did not mean that.’

  He raised an imperious brow. ‘What did you mean, Miss O’Sullivan?’

  Nessa had started to pace in her agitation and she stopped and faced him. ‘Please stop calling me that—my name is Nessa.’

  His voice was hard. ‘Nessa.’

  The way he said her name impacted her physically, like a punch to her gut. She instantly regretted opening her mouth but Miss O’Sullivan was beginning to get under her skin. This man. This...meeting...was veering so far off course that she wasn’t even sure what they were talking about any more, or what was at stake.

  She tried to force herself to stay focused, and calm. ‘What I meant, Mr Barbier, is that I will do everything in my power to convince you that my brother is innocent.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  LUC STARED AT Nessa O’Sullivan.

  I will do everything in my power to convince you that my brother is innocent.

  What kind of an empty suggestion was that? And why had it given him such an illicit thrill to see her act so shocked when he’d called her bluff? She’d blatantly offered herself to him—and then pretended that she hadn’t!

  He wanted to laugh out loud. As if she were an innocent. There was no innocence in this world. Perhaps only in babies, before they grew up to be twisted and manipulated by their environment.

  His conscience smarted to think of how he’d told her she wasn’t his type. He couldn’t deny the pounding of his blood right now. He told himself it was anger. Adrenalin. Anything but helpless desire.

  Luc knew he should have walked away long ago and left her at the mercy of the authorities, no matter what he thought of them. He had enough evidence now to damn her, and her brother. But he knew that wasn’t necessarily the best option. Not for him.

  She was staring at him, as if bracing herself for whatever he was going to say. She was throwing up more questions than answers and it had been a long time since anyone had piqued Luc’s interest like this.

  What did he have to lose if he contained this himself? It wasn’t as if the local law enforcement could do any better than the private security company he’d already hired to investigate the matter and track down Paddy O’Sullivan.

  One thing was clear. This woman wasn’t going to be walking away from here. He didn’t trust her. Not one inch of her petite form. Not after he’d seen how far she was prepared to go. And she wasn’t going anywhere until he had his money returned and he knew there was no damage to his reputation. If she was involved in this crime, then keeping her close would surely lead him back to the thief.

  He folded his arms and saw the way her body tensed, as if to steel herself. In that moment she looked both defiant and vulnerable, and it caught at Luc somewhere he wasn’t usually affected. More acting. It had to be. He would not allow her to make a fool of him.

  * * *

  ‘You say you want to convince me your brother is innocent?’

  Nessa still felt sick to think that Barbier had taken her words to mean that she was offering herself up, like some kind of—She forced the thought out of her head. Of course this man would never look at someone like her in that way, but she didn’t need to be humiliated.

  She tipped up her chin. ‘Yes.’

  He was looking at her with unnerving intensity. She really couldn’t read him at all. Her mouth felt dry and instinctively she licked her lips. His gaze dropped to them for a second and her insides flipped. She ignored it, telling herself her reaction to him was due to the heightened situation.

  His eyes met hers again. ‘Very well, then. You’re not leaving my si
ght until your brother accounts for his actions and my money is returned.’

  Nessa opened her mouth but nothing came out for a moment. Then she said, ‘What do you mean, not leaving your sight?’

  ‘Exactly that. You’ve offered your services in place of your brother, so until he or my money returns you’re mine, Nessa O’Sullivan, and you will do exactly as I tell you.’

  Nessa struggled to comprehend his words. ‘So you’re going to hold me as some kind of...collateral? As a prisoner?’

  He smiled but it was mirthless. ‘Oh, you’re quite free to walk out this door, but you won’t make it to your car before the police catch up with you. If you want me to believe that you have nothing to do with this, and that your brother is innocent, then you will stay here and do your utmost to make yourself useful.’

  ‘How do you know about my car?’ Nessa asked, distracted for a moment and not liking the way panic had her insides in a vice grip.

  ‘You were tracked as soon as you parked that heap of junk outside my perimeter wall.’

  Fresh humiliation washed over Nessa to think of her stealthy progress being watched in some security room. ‘I didn’t hear any alarms.’

  He dismissed that with a curl of his lip. ‘Security here is silent and state of the art. Flashing lights and sirens would unsettle the horses.’

  Of course it would. Hadn’t Nadim insisted on installing a similarly high-tech system on their own farm? Nessa searched in vain for some way to avoid being forced to spend an unknown amount of time under this man’s punitive command, even though she’d all but asked for it. ‘I’m a jockey and I work at our family farm—I can’t just walk away from that.’

  Barbier’s black gaze flicked dismissively over her body again before meeting her eyes. ‘A jockey? Then how have I never heard of you?’

  Nessa flushed. ‘I haven’t run many races. Yet.’ In recent years she’d gone to university and got a degree, so that had taken her out of the circuit for some time. Not that she was about to explain herself to Barbier.