“Speaking of patricide so blithely. I still think Navarro knows you murdered his son. I could tell from the way he looked at you.”
My girl is perceptive if she saw so much while knowing so little of the circumstances, but it will only make her jumpy to dwell on it. “Finish your breakfast. I want to buy you that dress, and something to go around that pretty throat of yours as well.”
Once she’s eaten some fruit salad and a pain au chocolat, Boris takes us ashore and we head into the sleek designer stores along the waterfront. I want to choose her clothes, but Bethany pushes me aside and insists on doing it herself.
I sit on a sofa in a boutique with my arms folded, glowering at the dressing room curtain. When she steps out, my face goes slack.
Bethany’s wearing an off-the-shoulder ombré gown in black silk that fades out through gray to cream at the hem. It clings to her breasts and hips like it was molded to her body.
“That one,” I tell the salesclerk, before Bethany can open her mouth. “And anything else my fiancée wants.”
Bethany shoots a poisonous look at me, but goes back into the dressing room. I relax back, smiling. I’m getting to like the sound of my fiancée more and more.
Forty-five minutes later I pay for the things Bethany has chosen. She spies the false name on my credit card, Anthony Karastos, but doesn’t say anything. We leave the boutique with an array of bags and boxes, and I pass them over to Boris.
“Take these back to the speedboat. We’ll be with you shortly.”
I want to buy Bethany some jewelry. It’s just the two of us, now, and her eyes are sparking with alertness. Bethany moves to walk ahead of me, but I keep hold of her hand and tug her back to me sharply. “I’m trusting you today. Don’t make me do anything you’ll regret, and I’ll enjoy.”
I let my gaze travel down her body.
Bethany swallows visibly. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I plant a kiss behind her ear and then head toward Cartier along the street. “See that it stays that way, princesa.”
Chapter Seventeen
Bethany
After several hours alone with Damir on the streets of Monte Carlo, I’m now the proud owner of tens of thousands of pounds worth of glittery baubles and designer clothing. I suppose it was too much to hope that I’d make my escape today. He watched me like a goddamn hawk every minute of every hour until we were back on the yacht.
At eight in the evening, we arrive at the Villa de Deschamps, a baroque mansion set amid lush gardens and water fountains. The entrance hall is huge, and filled with dozens upon dozens of people in evening-wear. Damir is wearing a tuxedo, and so are most of the other male guests. None of the other male guests are as tall and broad or look as sharply handsome as my silver-eyed companion, however. I’m wearing the ombré gown that he loves so much. Around my neck and wrist is white gold and diamond jewelry. Actual diamonds. I could live for a year on what they cost.
As we mingle among the crowd, I notice they’re more respectable than the people I saw last night. I can’t see any weapons or little baggies, but maybe they’re stashed just out of sight. I don’t trust Lucan Navarro, or the people he consorts with.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell my date, just before he takes two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. Damir’s eyes narrow. “I’m sorry if that’s i
nconveniencing you. Want to hold my hand while I pee?”
“Maybe I will.”
“If I was going to do a runner I would have done it today while there were cops around,” I hiss, low enough that my voice doesn’t carry. “Not in a villa full of goddamn criminals.”
He walks me over to a hallway and locates the restrooms. “I’ll be waiting here. You have two minutes.”
I turn to him and smile, reaching up to fix his tie, the very picture of a loving fiancée. “That’s the same number of minutes you gave me to pee when you first took me captive. Let’s tell our grandchildren about this one day.”
He spanks my ass and nods at the door. “Enough messing around. Get on with it.”
“Ow. No sense of humor.”
I use the restrooms, and when I emerge there are suddenly a number of people in the hallway, and I can’t see the main room. I can’t see Damir, either. I’m not going to do a runner right this second…but perhaps I’ll dawdle a little. Scope the place out.
I take a few steps toward a window, and look out upon a huge landscaped garden of topiary bushes and marble statues. There’s a long lake with a waterfall at the far end, and an elegant white sea bird is splashing about as the sun goes down. It’s utterly picturesque, but I’m searching for escape routes, not admiring the view.
The sea lays on one side, at the bottom of a cliff, and there are more gardens on the other side surrounded by a high brick wall. Security looks tight.
Someone touches my arm and murmurs, “Bonsoir, mademoiselle. Vous vous amusez?”