The Virgin's Debt To Pay

For a moment Luc could only stare stupidly as a coil of long, dark red hair fell over her shoulder from where it had been stuffed under the cap.

And then he took in the rest of her face and felt even more foolish. He’d seen countless beautiful women, some of whom were considered to be the most beautiful in the world, but right now they were all an indistinct blur in his memory.

She was stunning. High cheekbones. Flawless creamy pale skin. A straight nose. Huge hazel eyes—flashing green and gold, with long dark lashes. And that mouth, lush and wide.

His body hardened, and the shock of such a reaction to this whippet of a girl made Luc reject the rogue reaction. He did not react to women unless it was on his terms. He was reacting because she was unexpected.

His voice was harsh. ‘Now, tell me who you are, or I call the police.’

Nessa burned inwardly from the thorough once-over Barbier had just given her. She felt very exposed without her cap. Exposed to the full impact of him up close. And she couldn’t look away. It was as if she were mesmerised by the sun. He was simply...beautiful, in a very raw, masculine way, all hard angles and sharp lines. But his mouth was provocatively sensual—the only softness in that face. It was distracting.

‘I’m waiting.’

Nessa flushed, caught out. She diverted her gaze, focusing on a picture of a famous racehorse on the wall behind him. She knew she really didn’t have a choice but to give him the information. The alternative was to give it to the Garda? and, coming from such a small, close-knit community, she knew that word would go around within minutes as to what she had been doing. There was no such thing as privacy or anonymity here.

‘My name is Nessa...’ She hesitated and then said in a rush, ‘O’Sullivan.’ She snuck a glance back at Barbier and saw that he was frowning.

‘O’Sullivan? You’re related to Paddy?’

Nessa nodded miserably at what a disaster this evening’s escapade had become. ‘I’m his younger sister.’

Barbier took a moment to digest this and then he said, with a curl to his lip, ‘He’s sending his baby sister to do his dirty work?’

Nessa instantly rose to her brother’s defence. ‘Paddy is innocent!’

Luc Barbier looked unimpressed by her impassioned outburst. ‘He’s made a bad situation worse by disappearing, and the facts haven’t changed: he facilitated the purchase of a horse from Gio Corretti’s Sicilian stud. We received the horse a week ago and the one million euros duly left my account but never reached Corretti’s. It’s clear that your brother diverted the funds into his own pocket.’

Nessa blanched at the massive amount of money, but she forced herself to stay strong, for Paddy. ‘He didn’t divert funds. It wasn’t his fault. He was hacked—they somehow impersonated the stud manager in Sicily and Paddy sent the money through fully believing it was going to the right place.’

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.