“Get out,” she told him, her voice low and broken.
“I can’t. I need—” You, he almost said. I need you. Which would have been a disaster on so many levels. He could barely admit to himself how wrapped up in her he still was. There was no way he would admit it to her.
“Find somebody else to lie for you.” She threw the words at him. “I won’t do it.”
Her words snapped him out of the sensual haze that had enveloped him the moment he’d touched her. He had a problem he needed a solution for.
Except, he’d already found a solution, hadn’t he? His solution was her. Not just because she was one of the best in the world at what she did, but because—despite everything—he trusted her not to screw him over with this. It was a startling revelation after everything that had passed between them, but that didn’t make it any less true. He knew she’d screwed him over once, knew that she’d stood by and watched first as he’d struggled to find out who was responsible for the diamond theft that had nearly ruined his business, and then again as he’d struggled to cover up for her father and keep him safe despite the industry’s cries for his head.
But this felt different, and though he’d argued against it at first, now that he was here, staring into her eyes, he knew she wouldn’t screw him over. Not on this and, hopefully, never again.
“You owe me,” he told her, standing his ground even as she attempted to shove him toward the door.
She froze. “That’s not fair.”
“Do you think I give a damn about fair right now? My business is on the line. You owe me,” he reiterated. “This is how I want to collect.”
She turned pale, pressed her lips together so tightly that they turned nearly white. She shook her head, stepped back, but the look in her eyes told him he almost had her. “I can’t just drop everything. I have plans—”
At the mention of her date, his patience abruptly ran out. He’d be damned if she turned her back on him because of some other man. Not after last night. And not when he was standing here, almost begging her for her help.
“Break your damn plans,” he growled. “Or—”
“Or what?” she demanded, chin raised in obvious challenge.
He’d been about to suggest taking her straight to the airport after her date, but her obvious belief that he was threatening her pushed him over the edge. If that was what she expected of him, then that was what he’d give her. “Or I’ll break them for you. I’ll break this new identity you’ve assumed wide-open, tell the school, the press, anyone who will listen who you really are. Then where would you be?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“You’d be surprised what I’d dare.”
“If you did that, you wouldn’t get your expert testimony.”
“Yes, well, according to you, I’m not getting that testimony anyway. So, tell me, what have I got to lose?”
“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” Her eyes were fiery hot as they glared up at him, but that only made the wet sheen of them stand out more. The knowledge that he’d brought this strong woman to tears made him feel like the bastard she’d called him, and for the first time since she’d pissed him off, he wondered if he’d had more to lose than he’d imagined.
“Look, Isa—”
“I’ll do it,” she interrupted, brushing past him. “But then, you already knew that, didn’t you?”
He didn’t know whether to be relieved by her acquiescence or upset by it. His father had taught him from an early age to go after what he wanted—no holds barred—but Marc had always tempered that ambition with care. Until now.
There was a part of him that wanted to tell her to forget the whole thing, to pretend he hadn’t come here and threatened her. But then where would Bijoux be? This article would hit them hard. It wasn’t just about what he wanted or needed. Bijoux employed thousands of people—where would they be if he let the LA Times deal such a crippling blow?
It was that thought that kept him quiet as Isa swept down the hall. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“To pack a bag. If that’s all right with you?” He winced at the tone—and the look on her face. How she managed to look imperious dressed in sweats and a ragged tank top, he would never know.
He didn’t answer her question—he knew a minefield when he heard one. Instead, he settled on a simple “Thank you.”
“Oh, don’t thank me yet. You may think you have the upper hand here, but if so much as one of your diamonds is the wrong composition, I’ll crucify you in the press myself. And to hell with the consequences.”
He watched her go and couldn’t help smiling, despite her very deliberate threat. The fire was back—and he was glad. Despite their past, despite everything stretching between them, he never wanted to be the one to make Isa cry.
Ten
“Which mine are we going to first?” Isa asked as the pilot of Bijoux’s private jet came over the intercom to announce that they would be landing in Kugluktuk in approximately twenty minutes. They were the first words she’d spoken to him since they’d gotten on the plane in San Diego, seven hours before.