Page 64 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

Trenton was studying Summer, his brows drawn together in a small frown. “Do I know you?”

Oh God, she should never have come here. “No.”

Before he could say anything more, Nik gave him a curt nod, put a hand on her waist, and steered her away. But she could feel the man’s eyes boring into her back as she walked, her legs shaking beneath the long dress. Her breath caught in her lungs as she waited for him to shout out. To remember exactly where he’d seen her. But nothing broke the civilizedclinkof crystal and the hum of polite low-voiced murmurs. Nik handed her another glass, and she gulped it down.

“You weren’t very polite to your friend,” she said.

“He’s not a friend. He’s a business acquaintance of my father, who wants to be a business acquaintance of mine. But I don’t like the way he works.” He studied her for a moment. “Why? Do you know him?”

“No. For a second, he reminded me of someone. But I was wrong.”

“He seemed to know you.”

“A mistake.” She swallowed as panic twisted inside her. She had to get out of there. For a moment, she had an urge to confide everything to Nik. He was her friend. He would sort it out. But how could he? Besides, if he tried, he could get in trouble himself. And she couldn’t bear that.

She glanced furtively across the room. Trenton was still watching them, his eyes narrowed. Summer took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do for Nik to recognize that there was anything wrong with her. Though from the frown on his face, she could tell he was quite aware she was bothered by something.

“I need to pop to the ladies’,” she said, handing him her champagne glass. He looked as though he wanted to come with her. Thank God, he couldn’t. “Go mingle for a minute.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him she’d be right back.

“I’ll wait here.”

She shrugged and headed off, again feeling as though everyone was staring at her, that they could see through her flashy outward appearance to what was inside.

But really, why should that bother her? There was nothing wrong with her. If you ignored the whole thief, ex-con thing.

Christ, she’d thought she’d be able to put it all behind her. Now this. Maybe it was impossible. Maybe she’d done wrong and she just hadn’t paid enough yet.

What the hell was she going to do?

As she emerged from the ballroom, she ran straight into a tall, broad figure in another black tuxedo. His hands came up and he gripped her upper arms to hold her steady.

“Sorry,” she muttered, and then looked up in Harry’s face. He raised an eyebrow, no doubt at her flustered appearance.

“You off somewhere?”

“Just to the ladies’. You’re late,” she said to forestall the questions she could see hovering on his lips.

“Are you okay?” Obviously, her plan hadn’t worked. Or she must look how she felt—as though a huge, ominous black cloud was hanging over her. But what was that to Harry? He’d made it more than clear he thought Nik’s relationship with her was a big mistake.

“Do you care?” The words were out before she could think better of them. He still had hold of her, and as she made to pull back, his fingers tightened.

“Strangely, yes.”

At the words, she went still, her brows coming together. And suddenly her eyes ached, and she had to blink away the tears. She had to hold it together just a little while longer.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile. “I’m fine. This”—she nodded back toward the party—“is just a little outside my comfort zone.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Did he actually believe she was going to be around long enough?

“The thing about rich people,” he continued, “is that when it comes down to it, they’re just like everyone else, some good, some bad. Unfortunately, money can bring out the worst in the bad ones, and they tend to be the loudest, so you hear them the most.”

“Why are you talking to me like this?”

He grinned but released his hold on her and stepped back. “Like what?”

“Like a normal person, instead of one who’s likely to make off with the silver?”

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