Episode 7: I have no desire for a company

'But I...I swear I won't tell anyone a word of what I heard!' she protested feverishly as he came off the phone again. 'Not good enough.

By the way, I've just instructed one of my staff to open your staff locker in the maintenance department and extract your keys.' 'You've what?' Stella flew upright, upset color lighting her cheeks. 'Your address is in your personnel file.

Nolan will pick up your passport and bring it to the airport.' Eyes wide with incredulity, Stella snapped, 'I don't think so...I'm going home right now!'

'Are you? It is done or dies time, Stella,' Dior Harlequin advanced with a measuring look of challenge. 'You can walk out through that door. I can't stop you.

But I can sack both you and your friend, and believe me if you walk out, I will!' Halfway to the door, Stella stilled with a jerk. 'I think it would be much more sensible for you to accept the inevitable and come along quietly.

That is, assuming you're the innocent party you say you are,' he completed softly, studying her with brilliant black questioning eyes.

'This is crazy! Why would I risk my job by telling anyone what I overheard?' Stella demanded starkly. 'That data could sell for a great deal of money. I think that would supply sufficient motivation.'

Dior Harlequin strode to the threshold of the inner office he had emerged from earlier. 'Are you coming?' 'Coming where?' Stella muttered.

'I have a helicopter waiting on the roof. It'll take us to the airport.' 'Oh...' He might as well have admitted to having a dragon waiting on the roof. She could not have been more taken aback.

'A helicopter?' she repeated weakly. Seeming final to appreciate that she was paralyzed by sheer disbelief at what he was calmly demanding of her, Dior Harlequin strode back across the room, closed a powerful hand over hers and urged her in the direction he wanted her to go.

Pausing only to lift a heavy dark overcoat off a chair-arm, he hurried her across a palatial office with huge corner windows and pressed her through a door on the far side of the room. 'This can't be happening to me,' Stella whispered dazedly as she stumbled up a flight of steps.

'That wish cuts both ways,' he drawled curtly from behind her. 'I have no desire for a company on this particular trip.' As he reached a long arm past her to open the steel door at the top, a blast of cold spring air blew her hair back from her face and plastered her thin overall to her slight body.

She shivered violently. Having already donned his overcoat, Dior Harlequin sidestepped her to stride towards the silver helicopter and the pilot stationed by its nose. 'Hurry up!' he shot at her over a broad shoulder. 'I haven't even got my coat!' Stella heard herself shriek at him, losing her temper with a suddenness that shook her.

He stopped dead and wheeled round. With an air of grim exasperation and quite unnecessary male drama, he began to shrug back out of his coat. 'Don't waste your time!' Stella snapped, temper leaping even higher at that display of grudging gallantry.

'I wouldn't wear your stupid coat if I had pneumonia!' 'So freeze in silence!' Dior Harlequin launched back at her at full throttle, green eyes flashing like forked lightning. Stella squared her slight shoulders. Only the frank fascination of the watching pilot persuaded her to put a lid on her anger.

Quite untouched by a slashing response that would have intimidated ninety percent of the population, and keeping her wind-stung face stiff as concrete, Stella stalked past Dior Harlequin and climbed gracefully into the rear seat of the helicopter. 'I'll buy you some clothes at the airport,' the abrasive Greek slung at her as he swung in beside the pilot.

He turned his head towards her, putting his hard, classic profile into stark view, adding thinly, 'We'll have plenty of time to kill.

Waiting for your passport to arrive will probably cost the jet its take-off slot!' 'You are so gracious,' Stella framed hi an unmistakable tone of sarcasm, and his brows drew together in disconcertion a split second before the deafening whine of the rotor blades shattered the tense silence and she turned away again.

This is not happening to me. This cannot be happening to me, Stella told herself all over again as the helicopter first rose in the air and then went into a stomach-churning dip and turn to head out across London.

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