Page 7 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

“Why did you get caught?” he asked.

She glanced up. “I got careless. Thinking about other stuff. Lost my focus, and they got suspicious.”

“I suppose it’s hard work pretending to be someone—something—you’re not.”

“Hah. You would know, Mr. Maintenance Man.”

It was the first reference she’d made to his little deception. Though unlike her, he hadn’t lied. He’d just not put her straight when she’d presumed he was part of the maintenance team. It was an understandable mistake, given his appearance. But the truth was, he’d liked the fact that she had no clue who he was, that he paid her wages.

Pathetic.

“I didn’t pretend. You assumed.”

She studied him for a moment, her blue eyes wandering over him, making him hot and hard with just a look, and he had to fight the urge to shift in his seat. He didn’t want to reveal how much she affected him. Not yet.

“Well, you looked more like a maintenance man. You still do. What’s with the disguise?”

“It’s no disguise. Just the way I choose to look. I’m comfortable like this. If other people don’t like it, they can go do business someplace else.”

“Nice to be able to do what you want. You are aware your company has a dress code?”

Actually, he’d never really thought about it. Presumably that had been set in place by his HR department.

“So,” she continued, “it’s okay for you to dress the way you like, but not the poor people who work for you. That’s a double standard, you know.”

Of course it was. But if you couldn’t dress how you wanted when you were the boss, what was the point? There had to be some perks. All the same, he could see what she was getting at, and he didn’t have a valid argument. Except the I’m-the-boss one, and he didn’t think that would go down too well with this woman.

Why the hell was he trying to justify himself to her? She was a goddamn thief.

She flicked through the rest of the file. Her hands were delicate, like the rest of her, the nails short and unpainted. She wore no jewelry, but then, she had just been released from prison. She was hardly likely to wear diamonds inside. But all that money had to have gone somewhere.

Maybe if he could just get her to admit that. Then show her there was a different way, that she didn’t have to steal. She clearly had a brilliant mind. She’d just used it for the wrong pursuits. She would be his good deed for the year. He’d set her on the straight and narrow. Then, at some point, he’d remind her of how much she had wanted him that night and they’d follow it through to its obvious conclusion. And then it would be over. Because the last thing he needed in his life was another mercenary woman.

She slapped the file closed. “Did you set a private investigator on me?”

“I didn’t need to. My company has its own security section. I think you met the head.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Your friend Harry?”

“That’s right.” So, she remembered Harry, did she?

“What do you plan to do with this?” She patted the file.

“It depends on you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. If you’re not going to the police and you don’t plan to force me to sleep with you—which I wouldn’t do anyway—what do you want?”

He studied her for a long moment and wondered whether she was indeed immune to the desire sizzling beneath the surface. It was time to find out. He let his gaze wander over her, the slim hips, the curve of her surprisingly full breasts on such a slender frame. “I remember our kiss,” he murmured. “Do you remember, Summer?”

She gave a shrug of her shoulders. “Nope. Gone completely.”

“I don’t believe you. I’m thinking, if I chose to kiss you again, there would be zero force required. You would have been mine that night if Harry hadn’t interrupted us.”

She curled her upper lip. “In your dreams. And you still haven’t answered me—what do you plan to do with this?”

Okay, maybe she was right to change the subject, because he was already aroused and that wasn’t part of the plan for today. Back to business. “You will work for me until—”

“Work for you as what?”

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