Page 31 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

“Grr.” If one more person told her she needed fattening up…

“How about we pick up an Indian takeaway on the way home? You can show me your new place.”

“Sounds good.”

She kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll be back when I can. Probably at the weekend.” She hugged her tight. “Love you, Mom.”

…

What the hell was he doing here?

There had been no response when he’d rung her doorbell. She wasn’t in, so where the hell was she?

And why the hell did he think it was any of his business?

It was official; he was crazy.

Lisa had been giving him weird looks all day. He knew she was desperate to ask about Summer, but was too well trained to step over the employer/employee line. He was supposed to be in New York. There was a deal he should be overseeing, but he had canceled at the last minute. Someone else could do it. He’d tried to immerse himself in work, but kept being hit by memories… the feel of her writhing beneath him, the taste of her… He’d been hard most of the day.

He hadn’t planned to come here. But somehow, he’d found himself instructing Paul to drop him off and finish for the night. He’d make his own way home.

And she wasn’t in.

At the sense of…hell, he wasn’t even willing to give a name to it…as he stood there and received no answer, he knew he was in trouble. He had to back off.

But again, instead of following his own perfectly sensible advice, he took a seat at a table outside a coffee shop, across and down the street from the gym. He sipped a black coffee and brooded.

Harry thought he was mad.

Harry was very likely right on target.

He was paying the bill when a car slowed down and pulled into the alley alongside the gym. A silver-gray Mercedes. Nice car. It stopped. Summer climbed out, laughing. He hadn’t seen her laugh before. Well, not since he’d known her the first time. A man got out of the driver’s seat, leaned over the back of the car and said something. Summer laughed again. Obviously, the guy was some sort of comedian. He looked a little more closely and recognized the man from outside the prison yesterday. He was someone she knew well, then.

He opened the back of the car and pulled out a box. Summer picked up a suitcase, and they disappeared inside the building. Then came out and repeated the process. On the final trip, the man came out alone and grabbed some paper bags from the backseat of the car. Takeaway.

Finally, he locked up and disappeared inside.

Nik ran his hand through his hair, then pressed a finger to the spot between his eyes.

He was in so much trouble. He’d turned into a goddamn stalker.

He had to get out of here. Get a little distance. See things clearly.

Since his divorce, he’d avoided relationships that might evolve into anything more than a few nights of fun. He knew he was screwed up, knew his ex-wife—bless her heart—had done a number on him, and he was stupid to let it control his life. But he’d loved her, and the experience had changed him. There was no going back from that.

So why was he obsessing about this woman? One he didn’tsuspectof wanting him for his money because heknewthat’s what she was after. She’d talked to him, made friends with him, let him believe she liked him, and then she’d stolen from him. She might not have known who he was all those evenings they’d spent together, but she’d certainly known at the point when she’d pressed the button and transferred the money.

Upstairs the light had gone on in what he knew was the kitchen.

He wanted to go bang on the door, ask her what the hell she was playing at. Having strange men in her apartment.

Yup, it was official. He was crazy.

Time to do something about it. He pulled out his cell phone and pressed Harry’s number.

“Can you get the plane ready for tonight?”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to New York. You’re staying here to keep an eye on things.”

“Hmm, by things, you mean your little thief. Very wise, otherwise you might not have a company left when you get back.”

“Ha ha.” And he ended the call.

It was time to put an ocean between him and temptation.

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