button in the keypad near his wrist. She watched with escalating dread as a monitor sprang up from the centre console and flickered to life. Once it had clicked into place he angled it to face her.
The jumble of words and numbers scrolling beneath the picture on the screen sent a surge of almost debilitating insecurity rushing through her. Feeling his gaze on her, she struggled to remain calm, not to give him any more ammunition against her. But even without adequate understanding Ana had watched enough television to grasp what the graph meant. Heart thudding, she followed the red line descending with alarming speed.
At the top right hand corner of the screen she saw the time emblazoned clearly: 15:32.
âTurn it off,â she snapped hoarsely.
âThat wonât make it go away,â he rasped.
Pulling her gaze from the screen, she glanced down at her hands, saw the death grip she had on her purse and forced herself to relax. âTurn it off, Bastien. Youâve made your point.â
The screen disappeared into its casing.
Nervously, she licked her lips. âThere must be something we...I can do?â
â
Not
being caught in possession of drugs wouldâve been the single, most positive outcome to this whole situation.â
She glared at him. âWe can keep circling this conversation or we can discuss a useful way forward. Either way, my answer isnât going to change. I donât take drugs!â
âSo you were framed? Thatâs a little too convenient, donât you think?â he returned.
â
Convenient?
Iâve just spent the night freezing my behind off in a cold cell for something I didnât do. âConvenientâ is the last way Iâd describe my predicament.â
âWell, youâll have to start unravelling your predicament, fast. Your trialâs in three weeks,â he informed her calmly.
âThree weeks?â Another wave of horror washed over her.
Bastien folded his arms over his chest. âYou expect me to believe youâre not under the influence of drugs, and yet you canât recall events that happened less than an hour ago.â
âI was scaredâall right?â Her voice emerged more shrilly than sheâd intended.
A flash of emotion lit his eyes. She wanted to fool herself into thinking it was compassion, but it disappeared way too quickly for her to be certain.
She cleared her throat. âI know I shouldâve paid more attention in court. And I was. Before...before you showed up.â
âAre you saying I distracted you?â
âIt wouldnât be the first time,â she replied.
His eyes narrowed but he didnât respond. Their time in Cannes was a subject they both wanted to avoid.
So why did she keep thinking about it...and reliving it?
No more.
She forced herself to look into his eyes.
âThe last twelve hours have been difficult. I know it looks bad, but I havenât done anything wrong. Someone put the drugs in my bag. I donât know why. Iâm innocent.â
She breathed a sigh of satisfaction when her voice stayed even. She could do this. Remaining calm was key to finding a way out of this mess.
âMiss Duval, whether youâre innocent or not, my company continues to haemorrhage money.â He flicked a glance at his watch. âThe market closes in twenty-five minutes. Someone needs to be held accountable.â
âBut I canât do anything in twenty-five minutes!â Hysteria threatened to dissolve her shaky calm. Sucking in a desperate breath, she glanced out of the window.
And stiffened.
âThis isnât the way to my flat.â Nor was it the way to the agency. The crazy thought that he was kidnapping her surfaced. Frowning, she brushed it away. Bastien had no reason to kidnap her. âWhere are you taking me?â
He took his time to brush away an invisible piece of lint from his neatly pressed trousers before resting his