Chapter Eleven #3
When the waiter darted away, Ian’s glare didn’t relent. “Are you going to tell me why you invited me here tonight, or are we dashing off to track down the illustrious Sebastian Donastia? I have a sneaking suspicion he’s left La Rochelle for parts south. The northern coast of Spain, methinks.”
The transformative langoustines arrived along with brioche and butter, and a plate of steamed greens.
Ian paid the food little notice. “Go on, Diana. Confess your sins. The seasonal specialty can wait for whatever it is you dragged me here to say.”
She arched her brow and enjoyed the small catch of his breath, and the confirmation she could still render some emotional reaction from him other than disdain. “Let’s enjoy dinner and test your theory on my preference for challenging conversations.”
“And when we finish?”
“I will give you a bank draft for the appraised value of the emeralds, plus ten percent.”
His eyes widened fractionally. He hadn’t anticipated she’d come right out and mention the necklace, and she braced herself for his anger, or at the very least, a cold rebuttal.
He looked thoughtfully down at the food, drew a long breath, and quietly began to eat.
The tepid response gave her pause. Perhaps she should have gone on the attack, prodded him into an argument so he could finally unleash on her, and she could retaliate, and they’d both have a small taste of satisfaction.
Eventually, she capitulated to following his lead and took up her own fork and knife while she ruminated over how she was going to persuade him to take her offer.
The miraculous properties of the fish were over-embellished. Ian still ate with fervor. And if he was going to devour the entire thing, Diana would too.
He didn’t utter a word or offer her a glance until he’d finished and finally lifted his head. In a low voice, he rasped, “You have the necklace?”
She didn’t tell him she was wearing it beneath her high-collared blouse, but she conceded a nod.
He folded his hands across his lap. “I decline your offer.”
“I’m prepared to pay more.”
“And I’d still decline.”
“You’ve never been foolish about money before. There must be some price—”
“The emeralds cannot be bought or sold!” he snapped.
“No, they can only be won,” she finished calmly.
As he sat back in his seat, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Is this some game for you?”
“I assure you this is anything but trivial to me.”
He made a low nonverbal protest from the back of his throat, and she saw the cold detachment creep into his expression again.
She couldn’t stand it. “I can never give you back the emeralds. If I could, I would because I know what they mean to you. But they are now part of something much bigger than you and me.”
“They’ve always been a part of something bigger, but that something is nefarious and treacherous. You don’t know what you’re playing at, but you will give them up if you want to protect the women aboard your ship.”
“Tell me about this dangerous game.”
“Tell me about the women.”
“If it were up to me, I would. Hell.” She drew a breath. “In another life, you might have wanted to be part of it. But I can’t. It would put every life on the Ever Hart at risk.”
He studied her. “You’re afraid.”
She raised her chin, refusing to confirm his accusation, unable to deny that she was most afraid for him.
“Someone else has entangled you with the necklace to force your hand in this,” he said. “Who’s controlling you?”
When she didn’t respond, he banged his fist on the table. “Answer me honestly, one bloody time. Who can intimidate you enough that they would take away your choices? Is it Virgil?”
He leaned across the table and glowered at her in a way he’d never done before. Something lurked beneath the anger in his gaze. It seemed almost like possessiveness.
And it was tinged with desire.
Diana was used to men wanting her. Their pursuit was acquisitive. She was one more thing they’d accumulate, like estates or thoroughbreds, or stakes in a trading scheme.
But Ian Holt was angry that someone had the audacity to manipulate her. And he looked prepared to act disproportionately to spare her from it.
“If lives are at stake, including yours and mine, I have a right to know,” he pressed. “So help me, Diana, name the man.”
“Stop accusing me of some devious attachment. You’re behaving like I’m under someone’s thrall.” She was offended that he thought some paramour would have such power over her. “The only man who’s compelling my actions is you!”
She stood, threw down some coins in payment for the dinner, and made a rather dramatic exit from the tavern.
Unfortunately, the pouring rain halted her at the door.
“I wasn’t implying you were under anyone’s thrall,” Ian rumbled from behind her.
The scent of the rain and wet leaves mingled with the soft fragrance of his soap.
Despite her temptation to lean into his warmth, she refused to turn around.
“I’m not under anyone’s thumb. I’m a cog in the wheel of a much bigger machine, and I’m trying with all my strength to protect those we serve. ”
“Who are you working for?”
She shook her head; he hadn’t earned those secrets from her yet.
“Diana. In this moment, it may seem impossible for you to believe me, but I don’t want us to be at odds.”
The gentle assurance in his voice made her relent. When she turned around, concern pulled at his brow.
“The men who followed us to the shipping office the night you left London were after the emeralds,” Ian said. “There are dangerous factions hunting them.”
“I know,” she whispered. “My orders were to take the necklace and leave London. Amelia and I believe there’s a traitor within our organization who wants them for some other agenda beyond our mission. The dangerous game you won’t tell me about.”
She swallowed the knot rising in her throat. “Ian, whoever asked me to steal the emeralds wants you to risk your life to win them back. They want you dead. That’s why I took them, and why I can never return them to you.”