'Do you want to keep your job?' Stella stiffened, even more, despising him for using such bullying tactics. 'Of course, I do—' 'And do you want the other lady who allowed you to come up here and work in her place to keep her job?' Stella sagged as if he had punched her, and turned very pale. 'Please don't involve Grace in this,' she argued strickenly.
'This was my mistake, not hers!' 'No, she chose to break the rules,' Dior Harlequin contradicted with lethal cool. 'She's as much involved in this as you are. And if you are some kind of spy, in the pay of one of my competitors, you must've made it well worth her while to agree to tonight's switch.'
'A spy? What on earth...?' Stella whispered unevenly, her whole attention focused on that strong, dark face. 'Right at this moment, I find your reference to another unseen and unidentifiable individual's presence rather too convenient,' Dior Harlequin admitted bluntly.
'If there is a data leak, you have already supplied yourself with the excuse of a third party to take the heat.' 'I d-don't know what you're talking about.' He had her so much on edge that for the first time in her life Stella couldn't think straight.
'For your sake, I hope you don't,' Dior Harlequin conceded, with every appearance of grim sincerity. 'But you must understand that to just let you walk back out of here is too big a risk for me to take. If you shared what you heard with the wrong person it could seriously damage my plans.'
'But I wouldn't dream of repeating what I heard!' 'So you do remember what you overheard. And yet only a minute ago you swore that you weren't even interested enough to listen!' At that silken reminder, a frank look of dismay leaped into Stella's eyes.
She stared back at him with a sinking heart. She did have perfect recall of what he had said but had intended to play dumb and keep that news to herself. However, he had tied her in verbal knots and tripped her up. He had a mind like a steel trap, she conceded furiously.
Keen, suspicious, quick and deadly in its accuracy. Dior Harlequin glanced at the slim gold watch on his wrist and then back at her. 'Allow me to show you the bigger picture here, Stella. As long as this deal goes down on Wednesday, you and your foolish friend will still be gainfully employed hi this building.
But until Wednesday comes, you're not moving out of my sight!' 'I b-beg your pardon?' 'Naturally, I'll pay you well for the inconvenience—' 'Inconvenience?' Stella interrupted in a hopelessly squeaky voice. 'I assume you have a passport?' 'A passport! Why are you asking me that?' she gasped.
'I have to fly to Greece tonight. Keeping you under surveillance to ensure that you make no phone calls will require you to fly to Greece with me,' he delivered with perceptible impatience. 'Are you mad?' Stella muttered shakily. 'Do you live alone or with your family?' he questioned.
Transfixed by her bewilderment, Stella muttered, 'Alone, but—' 'A winged ebony brow rose at that news, green eyes briefly welding to her beautiful face. 'You surprise me.
Where do you keep your passport at home?' 'In my bedside cabinet, but why—?' Dior Harlequin punched out a number on his mobile phone. 'I don't see any alternative to a trip to Greece,' he informed her in a sardonic aside. 'I could lock you up without a phone, but I think you'd be even less happy with that option.
And I can hardly ask my household staff here in London to keep you imprisoned while I'm out of the country! You have to accompany me on your own free will.' Free will? What free will? Stella's lower lip finally dropped away from her upper as she appreciated that he was deadly serious.
In the simmering silence she listened to him talk at some length on the phone in what she assumed to be Greek, his tone brusque, commanding. She heard her name mentioned and tensed up even more.