The Cherbourg Jewels by Jenni Wiltz Read Free Book Online

tucked in the edge of the brown leather coat, ensuring it wouldn’t get shut in the door. 
    Ella almost gasped in surprise.  She hadn’t expected such a chivalric gesture from a man who was basically holding her hostage.  She waited for him to round the car and settle himself in the driver’s seat before she turned her head to look at him once more.
    In the shadows of the garage, his profile looked like what she imagined Roman emperors would have looked like—strong and determined, with square, angular faces that belied generations of breeding.  She’d seen a few of their profiles on ancient coins in the museum’s Greek and Roman wing.  They always comforted her, far more than the faces she saw on billboards or brochures.  
    Those ancient faces always seemed so capable, so sure of their destinies.  They never doubted their birthright or their right to take over other territories.  They built temples, aqueducts and amphitheaters because they wanted to or because it would make their people happy. 
    In many ways, Sébastien seemed similar.  He ordered people around and wouldn’t take no for an answer, without ever seeming to doubt his choices.  But did he do it because he saw himself as an emperor, in charge of his family’s destiny?  Or did he do it because he was an insensitive jerk who never learned how to take other people’s feelings into consideration?
    It made her think.  And thinking about Sébastien Cherbourg wasn’t what she wanted to do.  She wanted to find those stones and figure out what it all meant: to her, to her father, to her shattered life.
    Sébastien backed the car out of the garage and closed it behind them.  He maneuvered in reverse down a narrow driveway to street level and waited for a set of iron gates to open outward.  When they’d opened, he flung the car into gear and sped off into the night. 
    Ella held onto the armrest with a sinking feeling.  She wasn’t thrilled about the fact that he hadn’t called the police, but what could she do?  She was a virtual prisoner.  Maybe , she thought, I should find out just how “virtual” a prisoner I am.
    “Take me home,” she said.  “Please.”
    Sébastien didn’t even turn his head to look at her.
    Okay , she thought.  No go.  Let’s try something else.
    “I’ve been in these clothes all day.  I could sure use a quick shower and a change.  What if we stop by my apartment?  It would only take ten minutes, I promise.”
    Nothing.
    She pressed her lips together, feeling her anger rising.  Apparently there was no “virtual” about it—she was a fully fledged prisoner, only without the handcuffs.  “Okay, now you’re freaking me out,” she said.  “I want to find the thief as much as you do, but what right do you have to keep me prisoner?”
    “Prisoner?” he scoffed.  “I’m keeping you safe is what I’m doing.”
    To prove her point, she pulled the door handle—but he’d already locked her in.  Nothing happened.  “I beg to differ,” she said.
    “You know, there is such a thing as keeping you safe from yourself.”
    “But that’s not what you’re doing.”
    “Apparently not,” he said, sounding frustrated.  “Why don’t you just tell me what I’m doing and be quiet?”
    “The great Sébastien Cherbourg wants me to tell him what he’s doing?”
    “The great Sébastien Cherbourg wants you to shut up and let me think.”
    “What are you thinking about?”
    “Holy hell, woman, are you ever quiet?”
    Ella shrugged.  “I was quiet when I was a girl.  I guess I’m making up for lost time.”
    He flicked an interested glance her way, as if she’d finally said something that didn’t anger him. 
    “Watch the road,” she said, pointing at the intersection in front of them.
    But he wouldn’t let it go.  “Why were you quiet?”
    Suddenly, she realized she didn’t want to tell him.  It was no one’s business but her own.  Even though it was a simple statement of fact—I was