Page 74 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

Chapter Seventeen

She didn’t even look at him as she rolled off the bed.

Nik cursed silently. Why the hell had he spoiled everything and said that? She was running scared, and he guessed those words were only going to make her run faster.

She was so beautiful, slender and perfect. Her hair had come loose at some point during their lovemaking and hung in a pale curtain around her shoulders. She grabbed a robe from the chair by the bed, the same purple one she had seduced him in on that first night. Then she paced the room a couple of times, lower lip clenched in her small white teeth.

Nik pulled himself upright so he was leaning against the back of the bed and allowed her to pace. Once, she headed back to him, but then turned and paced some more. Finally, she took a deep breath and came and perched on the side of the mattress next to him.

She took another deep breath and then said, “I love you, too.”

The words were so unexpected that for a long time—well, it seemed like a long time—he just sat and stared at her. He waited for some emotion, euphoria maybe? Wasn’t that what people felt when they fell in love and were loved in return?

Unfortunately, Summer sounded far from euphoric.

She sounded lost and sad and…

He took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her palm. “Just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can work it out.”

She shook her head. “No, we can’t.”

She sounded so certain that something shuddered inside him. “Tell me.” As he spoke, he got out of bed and pulled on his pants. He had a feeling he wanted his clothes on for this conversation. She looked so solemn.

She went to the wardrobe, turned away from him, pulled out some clean clothes, and dressed quickly in jeans and a T-shirt. Her wardrobe was almost empty and there was a suitcase on the floor beside it. He hadn’t noticed it when they’d come in—his mind, or maybe not his mind, but the rest of him—had been on other things. It made everything seem all the more real. She was leaving.

He followed her through into the kitchen, and she poured them both a coffee, then perched on a stool at the island. He sat opposite her, but put his coffee down. He didn’t feel like drinking.

“Tell me,” he said again.

She looped her hair behind her ears. “When I came out of prison, I thought I’d paid, that it was okay for me to go on with my life, a fresh start.” She gave a rueful smile. “And there you were, outside the prison, in your big black car. Perfect evidence that the past is always with you. You can’t erase the things you’ve done.”

“What have you done?”

“I stole.”

“How many?”

“One before you.”

“Trenton.” He shook his head. “I knew there was something between you two.”

“He was the first. He didn’t recognize me, but he knew me from somewhere, and any moment he’ll remember.”

“Why? Why did you steal?”

“Justice. Vengeance.”

“Because he was rich and you’re not?” His mind searched for an explanation. A justification. Because he wanted her to be good.

“It doesn’t matter now. It’s done, and I’m not sorry. But Nik…” She reached across and rested a hand on his arm. “I can’t go back to prison. I hated it. Every day. I know I deserved it, but I can’t do it again.”

Christ, he could understand that. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what prison was like. And Summer was such a private person, it must have been doubly hard for her. At the same time, he sensed there was more.

“There’s something else. Some other reason.”

She drew back her hand and looked away for a moment. “Maybe, but it doesn’t concern you. The less you know, the better. I won’t involve my friends.”

“Can’t you admit I’m more than a friend? You said you loved me.”

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