Page 9 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

Chapter Three

Why did he have to be so gorgeous?

Summer cast him what she hoped was a surreptitious glance—the last thing she needed was for him to catch her ogling him. He lounged back in the leather seat, the glass dangling from long, tanned fingers. She had a flashback to what it felt like to have those clever fingers pushing inside her. Heat washed through her, and she forced her gaze away.

His dark blond hair was overlong—in need of cutting—and brushed back, showing off high cheekbones, golden stubble, and those firm lips. Lips that had kissed her, caressed her skin, driven her wild…

Don’t think about it.

His eyes were hidden behind designer glasses, though she knew they were dark like chocolate, with little gold flecks if you got close enough to kiss him.

Her head was whirling, and fear churned in her stomach. This man had the power to send her straight back to prison. But she couldn’t go back. At the thought, a wave of panic rolled over her, threatened to suck her under.

Get a grip.

In a way, this man was to blame for her time inside, though she’d never tell him that. On her last job, she’d lost focus. She’d been off balance, both betrayer and betrayed. Nik had gotten closer to her than she’d ever allowed another man. Those late-night meetings, with the offices dark around them, had held more than a hint of intimacy. For more than a month, they’d met. She’d talked to him as she had to no one else—not even Danny—of her hopes and dreams, though thank God, she hadn’t revealed anything he could have used to trace her.

She’d liked him.

And it had all been an act. He’d made a fool of her. She’d felt as if she’d received a blow to the stomach when she discovered he was the CEO of the company she was targeting. And she hadn’t picked Masterton’s at random, but for its close business ties to Trenton Industries, the company her mother had worked for at the time of her accident. They were guilty by association. Nik was the enemy.

But maybe it hadn’t all been an act. Today he was dressed in a similar manner. Faded jeans hugged his long legs, and his black shirt was open at the throat, the sleeves rolled up to show his strong, muscular forearms. She knew he had a gym in his office. When he’d mentioned it, she’d thought he meant the gym provided for employees but no, he had his own personal gym on the top floor. Nothing but the best for the owner and CEO of Masterton Industries.

How hadn’t she recognized the air of elitism about him? She could see it now, so clearly. The attitude that the world belonged to him.

What the hell was she going to do?

This was meant to be a new start. She heaved a huge sigh. Time to work out just how bad things were. “Will I be employed by the company?”

He glanced at her, took a sip of scotch, then licked a bead of liquid from his lips. “Yes. I had HR draw up a contract, just in case.”

Christ, he had it all worked out. This was a nightmare.

But at least the job should placate her parole officer. Together with Regan and Darcy, she had gotten a special dispensation so they could live together rather than go into a halfway house, like most new parolees. Apparently, the facilities were so stretched, the authorities had given in with relief. They were all exemplary prisoners, and as long as they followed the rules of their parole, they would be given a little leeway. A proper job would go a long way toward that.

The car slowed. They were turning off, driving down a ramp into an underground parking area. They stopped at a barrier, it lifted, and they drove inside, pulled up in a parking spot big enough for three cars. The name Nikolay Masterton, CEO, was on a plaque at the front wall.

The engine stopped, and she took a deep breath. She didn’t want to get out of the car. Something bad would happen. Her head pounded and her eyes pricked. Everything was going wrong, and she felt pathetic and weak, and she’d sworn she was going to be strong from now on. Worse, the wine was swirling in her stomach. She hadn’t had a drink in…years, and it was fogging her brain. She longed to go home, except she didn’t have a home… She hadn’t had a proper home since she was fourteen when her mother had been injured and she’d been put into foster care. She’d thought it was temporary, but she’d never lived with her mother again after that time, because her mother had been confined to a long-term care facility. After she’d left school, there was no way Summer could earn enough to keep them both and pay for the help her mother needed. At least, not by legal methods.

She swallowed, bit her lip.

She’d try one more time to get through to him. Leaning across the seat, she rested her hand on his arm. His skin was hot, and the firm muscle tensed under her touch. She ignored the tingle that ran along her nerves from the point of contact. She was on edge, that was all. He looked at her hand, and then into her eyes, one eyebrow raised above the rim of his glasses.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said. “Just let me leave. I’m going straight. I promise.”

He studied her for long moments, and she held her breath. Then he shrugged. “Here’s the thing—I don’t believe you. You look so innocent, so earnest. But I can’t help remembering back to those little chats we had. I thought you were the most honest woman I had ever met. And I was totally fucking wrong. Now here you are again. All sweetness and innocence. But this time, I know it’s an act. Time to pay the piper, Summer.”

Pompous ass.

She clamped her lips and kept the words inside. She hated it, but she couldn’t afford to antagonize this man or forget he wasn’t the affable maintenance man she’d believed she knew. She’d thought she might even come to—

Don’t go there.

That man had been a figment of her imagination. She’d read up on the Mastertons before she’d decided to do the job. Nik’s great-grandfather, already wealthy, had moved to London from the north of the country after the First World War, started up the business, and it had done well through a combination of hard work and ruthlessness. His grandfather had been a hero in the Second World War. He’d gone home with a medal and promptly married into the aristocracy, the daughter of a minor earl, giving the family some respectability. Nik’s father had been born not much later. The business had grown at a rapid rate after that. There had been a few scandals, but they’d been glossed over or paid off. Those indiscretions, together with the company’s ties to Trenton, were enough for Summer to take an interest and decide it was time they paid a little back into the system.

At the age of forty-five, his father had married a nineteen-year-old supermodel from Russia with aspirations to the upper class. She’d had Nikolay six months later. And his twin sisters, ten years after that.

Nik had gone to business school and then taken a year off. When Summer had met him nearly three years ago, he’d been twenty-eight and just taking over from his father. Like the rest of his family, he had a reputation of being ruthless in business. Maybe she should be glad he wasn’t just handing her, and the file, over to the police. But he wasn’t, and she really didn’t understand what it was he wanted of her. Until she did, she’d have to be careful.

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