Blackmailed Down The Aisle. Louise Fuller
‘Let go of me.’ Angry, outraged—more by her body’s inappropriate response than his restricting grip—she started to punch his arm, but he simply ignored the blows, jerking her closer.
‘Stop it,’ he said coldly. ‘You’re not helping yourself.’
‘You’re hurting me.’
‘Then stop fighting me.’
His arm curled tighter, so that his stomach was pressing against her spine. But despite his anger, and even though she could feel his strength, she was surprised to find she wasn’t afraid of him physically.
Only there was no time to ponder why that should be the case as he said sharply, ‘What’s in your hand?’
Instantly all her efforts were concentrated on clenching her fist as tightly as possible. But it was a short, unequal fight, and she watched helplessly as, uncurling her fingers, he prised the security card from her hand.
‘Thank you,’ he said softly, and abruptly he loosened his grip and jerked her round to face him.
She gazed at him dazedly. Her pulse was racing, her blood thundering like an incoming tide. She felt her stomach tighten painfully as his eyes flickered over the card.
‘Where did you get this?’
For a moment she considered telling him the truth. But one look at his face was all it took to convince her that that course of action would not only be foolish but hazardous. He was furious. Beyond furious. He was enraged.
‘It was on the floor.’
‘Of course it was!’
The jeer in his voice sliced through her skin like a knife, so that she had to swallow against the pain. The air was thickening around her and she was finding it hard to breathe. His anger was overwhelming her. She couldn’t fight the way he did—didn’t have that desire to win whatever the consequences. Whatever the cost...
‘I...I... It must... Someone must have dropped it.’
Rollo shook his head dismissively.
He could deal with her lies. He could even understand why she was lying. But he couldn’t deal with all the other lies that were crowding into his head. Lies from the past. Conversations between his parents. His mother darting between stories, swapping truths—
Suddenly he just wanted it over. Wanted her out of his office and out of his life.
Lip curling, he glanced to where she stood, wide-eyed, the pulse in her throat jerking unevenly.
‘I know this looks bad,’ she said haltingly. ‘But I wasn’t doing anything wrong. You have to believe me—’
‘I think we both know it’s a little late for that,’ he said savagely.
He didn’t trust her, and for good reason. Life had taught him at an early age that there was nothing more disingenuous or dangerous than a cornered woman.
But this one wasn’t his problem.
‘I’m tired,’ he said bluntly. ‘And this conversation is over.’
He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.
‘What do you mean? Who are you calling? No. Please—’
He felt his stomach soar upwards, snagged by the desperation in her voice even as anger swept over him like lava. Was she really going to keep this up? This pretence that she’d come up here to see the view.
‘I gave you a chance to tell the truth. That you came here to steal from me—’
‘But I didn’t.’ Her voice was husky with emotion. ‘I admit I lied to you. But I swear I’m not a thief.’
He held her gaze. It would be easy to believe her. She sounded so convincing. But then he remembered how she had fought him for the swipe card, with fire—not fear—in her eyes, and glancing at her face he could see tautness—the nervous dread of a skater standing on thin ice, waiting to hear it crack.
But why? What was there left to dread?
His shoulders tensed. And then, as his gaze dropped down to the short black apron, he saw her face freeze. He felt a dizzying anger like vertigo. Slowly he moved in front of her, his powerful body blocking her exit.
‘Prove it. Empty out your pockets,’ he said tersely. ‘Unless you want me to do it for you.’
She shrank away from him, eyes widening with unmistakable guilt, her face pale with shock and uncertainty. ‘Are you threatening me?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, his voice soft, light, his face sculptured with menace. ‘Do you feel threatened?’
Daisy swallowed. Yes. She did. And not just threatened. Trapped. But how could she do what he asked? If he saw the watch—his watch—there was zero chance of her getting out of the office, let alone the building.
‘I can explain...’ But her words faltered as she realised that she couldn’t.
Rollo stared at her in silence. A sudden vivid memory of his mother saying exactly the same words slid into his head, and he let them echo and fade until he was able to speak.
‘I’m sure you can. But I think I’ve had enough bedtime stories for one evening.’
His words sent a chill through her.
‘Don’t worry though. I’m sure someone else will find them far more entertaining.’ He paused, a cold smile curling his lips. ‘Like my security team. We can go and talk to them right now. They’re downstairs with David—your brother. Waiting to take you both to the police station.’
DAISY STARED AT him in horror. His words were burning inside her head, so hot and bright she couldn’t think straight. Finally she forced herself to speak.
‘What’s David got to do with any of this?’
But even as the question left her lips, she knew there was no point in pretending any more. There was only one possible explanation for why her brother was with Security.
Rollo knew everything.
The thought made her feel dizzy and she took a quick, shallow breath, trying not to give in to the damp chill sweeping over her skin.
‘You know about...? That David...?’
‘That your brother stole my watch?’
His gaze held hers, the derision in his voice making her cheeks burn.
‘I knew the day he stole it. My office has security cameras. Your brother was caught on film.’
He paused and, looking up, she saw the glittering contempt in his eyes, felt her stomach cramp with fear. He’d known right from the start—before she’d even steeled herself to step into the lift. He’d simply been watching, waiting...
Waiting for her to realise that fact.
All her carefully laid plans had been for nothing. Suddenly she was struggling to hold it together.
‘Please—’
Her voice sounded all wrong, high and breathless, not at all like her voice. But maybe that was because she was no longer Daisy Maddox but some anonymous criminal. The thought made fear crystallise on her skin like ice.
‘Please don’t do this. I know it looks bad. But if you’ll just give me five minutes—’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I think you’ve wasted more than enough of my time already.’
‘But you don’t know the full story,’ she protested.
‘Story? More like fantasy!’ He shook his head.