Married for the Prince's Convenience

CHAPTER FIVE

JASMINE’S BREATH SNAGGED in her throat. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean your situation is precarious. Once I apprise the ambassador and my council members of your crimes, your destiny will be sealed.’

‘But you haven’t done it yet. And you...you said earlier that the matter between us was personal.’

‘I only meant I have more important matters to attend to.’ His mouth compressed in a grim smile. ‘You will get what’s coming to you. My intention was to deal with you at a later date. I didn’t think you would be foolish enough to cross my radar of your own accord just yet. So perhaps I’ll watch you suffer for a long time.’ His gaze went to the tray of cold food and his jaw clenched. ‘You’ll be brought another tray. Eat.’

He stepped towards the door.

‘Wait. Please.’

‘What?’

She cleared her throat. ‘Will you join me for lunch? That is, if you haven’t eaten yet? I can tell you why I came here while you eat? Please.’

The icy incredulity in his eyes didn’t recede as he shook his head. ‘You’re brazen and audacious, I’ll give you that. But your offer is declined, Miss Nichols,’ he replied sarcastically. ‘Was there anything else?’

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. ‘Please tell me what I can do to make things right. I’ll do anything.’

He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘I don’t trust a single word out of your mouth. So I suggest you save your breath.’

She licked her lower lip and tried anyway. ‘You can’t leave me here for ever.’

‘Can’t I?’ The smile that curved his lips could not in any way be described as affectionate, warm, or even cordial. The starkness of it struck pure terror in Jasmine’s heart.

‘I...I guess you can. But, please don’t.’ Her nausea was rising again. She didn’t think she could stand being cooped up in here for another minute, let alone hours on end.

His shark-like smile widened, the growth of beard emphasising the feral whiteness of his teeth. A dark shiver swept over her.

‘Never fear, querida, your sins will be addressed in due course. This subject is closed. For now.’

She’d been dismissed. Just like that. Jasmine wasn’t sure which emotion—despair or trepidation—churned greater in her stomach as she watched Reyes leave. She couldn’t force him to listen to the apology she’d practised for a month now. From his blatant hatred of her, she’d have to abandon any hope of asking for his forgiveness.

For now she had no recourse but to stay a prisoner.

Despair cloying through her, she paced for another hour before exhaustion deadened her limbs.

Kicking off her shoes, she sank onto the sofa. Despite the creature comforts, there were no windows in the basement. The remote for the TV had been removed. She had no idea exactly how much time had passed because her bag and phone had been taken away. The second tray Reyes had ordered delivered had also gone cold, its arrival coinciding with another case of severe nausea.

That, coupled with the exhaustion, convinced Jasmine she’d definitely picked up a bug of some sort.

Stretching out, she shivered and tried to tuck her skirt down to cover her legs as much as possible. Then, closing her eyes, she succumbed to the darkness tugging at her consciousness.

* * *

‘Jasmine, wake up!’

‘Mnnnh.’ Her tongue felt too thick to convey the no she’d been attempting. She tried to burrow into the blanket someone had draped on her, but a sharp shake of her shoulder stopped her.

‘Wake up!’

She groaned at the effort it took to pry her eyes open. ‘What?’

A man, presumably a doctor from the stethoscope clinging to his neck, hovered above her. She squirmed and started to raise her hand as he shone a light in her eyes.

Sharp pain shot up her arm. ‘Ouch.’

‘Lie still. You have an intravenous needle in your arm.’

Reyes’s deep voice was unmistakeable. Her attention swung to him as he barked at whoever else was in the room. When the volley of Spanish ceased, he was holding out a glass of water with a straw to her lips, and someone was pressing a soft pillow beneath her head.

Questions swirled in her fuzzy brain. ‘Reyes...what...?’

‘Don’t try and speak,’ he said, his eyes narrowed on her face as he addressed the doctor in Spanish.