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Her fingers trembled. But could she do it. Could she actually go through with it?
She hesitated. But only for a moment.
David was waiting downstairs for her in the lobby and the thought of his face, his relief as she walked towards him, propelled her forward.
Inside the lift, panicky thoughts fluttered inside her head, darting back and forth like startled birds, but then the doors were opening and, heart pounding, she stepped into a dimly lit corridor.
David had told her which office belonged to Rollo and, her heels clicking lightly on the polished wood floor, she walked across the reception area and came to a standstill in front of a plain wooden door. For a moment she stared at it in silence. There was no nameplate—nothing to differentiate it from any of the other doors—and for a moment she wondered why. It seemed a strangely modest touch from a man worth billions who made no secret of the fact that he considered himself not just a businessman but an empire builder.
But then, did a man like Rollo Fleming really need any introduction? Particularly in the gleaming glass tower that bore his name.
It felt like she was about to enter the lion’s den. But, lifting her chin, she braced her shoulders. The lion wasn’t at home. And by the time he returned, she would be long gone.
Breathing in sharply, she swiped the card and pushed open the door.
Everything was silent and dark. But through the window all the familiar landmarks were lit up against the night sky, and she gazed at it in wonder. Rollo Fleming must have the best view in New York. But every moment spent in his office increased her risk of being caught and, galvanised by that thought, she stepped forward unthinkingly.
‘Ouch!’
Her knee collided sharply with something hard in the darkness, but her pain was quickly forgotten as she felt whatever it was she’d walked into start to move. Heart pounding, she reached out, groping blindly, trying to stop whatever it was from falling. But it was too late, and the next moment there was a thump that echoed round the empty office like cannon fire.
‘Good one, Daisy!’ she muttered into the taut, strained silence that followed. ‘Why don’t you just set off some fireworks while you’re at it?’
Gritting her teeth, she reached down and gingerly rubbed her knee—and then suddenly froze as from the other side of the door she heard the clear and unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching.
They slowed and stopped, and her heart began to beat with such force that she thought it would burst through her ribcage, and then she scrunched up her eyes as the door swung open and light flooded the room.
For the longest moment she waited—hoping, praying like a child that if she couldn’t see whoever it was, they wouldn’t be able to see her. But her hope was swiftly extinguished as a voice—cool, curt and very, very male—interrupted the tense silence.
‘I’ve had a long and disappointing day, so I hope, for your sake, that you have a good explanation for this intrusion—’
Opening her eyes, Daisy blinked. The words had sent a ripple of dread down her spine, but that was nothing compared to the dismay she felt as she gazed up at the face of the man standing in front of the open door.
Rollo Fleming was supposed be in Washington.
On business.
But, unless she was hallucinating, neither of those facts were true.
The shock should have felled her and it would have done so, had she not been so distracted by the reality of his beauty.
On a screen, or in a magazine, Rollo Fleming was movie star handsome. In the flesh, however, his good looks were multiplied by ten, compounded by an intense mix of masculinity and power that made heat break out over her skin.
Not that he was her type, she thought hurriedly. He was too blonde, too poised, too calculating. It must just be the shock that was making her want to look at him. And keep on looking.
Golden-skinned, with a sharp clean-lined jaw and close-cropped blonde hair, he looked more like a Roman gladiator than a billionaire property tycoon. Only the very dark and obviously very expensive single-breasted suit gave any hint that he was worth more than the GDP of some small countries.
He looked at her directly then, and she felt his gaze like cool water hitting the back of her throat. His eyes were extraordinary—clear, glittering green, like shards of broken glass. But it was the beautiful full-lipped curve of his mouth that tugged the most at her senses. It was a mouth she could imagine softening into the sexiest smile—
Her heart jerked.
Only it wasn’t smiling now. Instead it was set in a straight, forbidding line that perfectly matched the rigid hostility of his body blocking the doorway. Nervously she glanced around the office, looking for another means of escape. But despite it being the size of a small barn, there were no other exits. Just a lot of cool designer-looking furniture.
She was trapped.
Her pulse shivered. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She hadn’t come here for confrontation or explanation. But now there was no choice but to improvise.
‘I—I can explain,’ she stammered.
‘Then I suggest you begin.’
He stood like an actor on stage, his spotlit face impassive, but there was a dangerous undertone in his voice that made her heartbeat accelerate unevenly.
‘Just keep it short and simple. Like I said, I’ve had a long day... Daisy.’
He spoke her name softly, almost like an endearment, so that it was a moment before her brain registered the fact that he knew who she was. As she glanced up, eyes widening in shock, he shook his head dismissively, his gaze dropping to the laminated badge pinned to her blouse.
‘So it is your name. I thought you’d stolen that from some poor hapless waitress downstairs.’
There was no mistaking the flicker of scorn in his eyes, and her hand rose protectively to cover the badge even as his accusation stung her out of her fear and shock.
‘I didn’t. My name really is Daisy and, for your information, I am one of those poor hapless waitresses. That’s why I’m here.’
Her eyes locked with his. Pushing her hands into the pocket of her apron, her fingers brushed against David’s security card, and she felt a sudden fierce urgency to protect her brother.
‘I was working at the party downstairs and I was going to get some more napkins from the kitchens,’ she lied. ‘But I pressed the wrong button in the lift.’
For a moment Rollo stared at her coldly, then without turning he pushed the door shut.
In less than three seconds he had crossed the room, and as he stopped in front of her, her body tensed with panic.
‘I told you to keep it short and simple. Clearly what I should have said was tell the truth.’ His eyes hardened. ‘Please don’t insult me by trying to pretend you “pressed the wrong button...”’
Daisy felt the walls of the huge office shrink inwards. In his dark suit, his broad shoulders blocking the light, Rollo Fleming dominated the space around them. But she couldn’t allow him to dominate her. If she did, then the truth would come out and David’s life would be ruined.
She tried to let out her breath without his noticing.
‘You’re not the only one who’s had a long day,’ she retorted. ‘I’ve been on my feet for hours and I’m tired too. Which is why I made a mistake.’
He shook his head.
‘I don’t class breaking and entering as a “mistake.” And I’ll think you’ll find most juries agree with me.’ His face was hard, anger harshening the fine features. ‘So stop prevaricating and tell me why you’re sneaking about in my office at quarter to one in the morning.’
‘I didn’t know it was your office.’ She forced herself to meet his face. ‘How could I? I don’t even know who you are.’
His expression shifted into one of pure disbelief.
‘You’re working downstairs and you don’t know who I am?’
Daisy glowered at him. His derisive tone, coupled with his arrogant and irritatingly correct assumption that she would know who he was, made her see red.
‘I work for lots of people,’ she said stubbornly. ‘I don’t remember all their names and faces.’
Watching his mouth tighten, she felt a stab of satisfaction at having punctured his pride.
There was a long, abrasive silence and then he shrugged. ‘Which is no doubt why you’re just a waitress.’
Her cheeks flooded with heat, his sneer stinging like a slap.
Just a waitress!
‘Don’t patronise me—’ she began furiously.
‘Then don’t lie to me,’ he said softly.
She glared past him, face flushed. ‘Fine. So I know who you are! So what? It makes no difference to me—’
‘Then you are either exceptionally foolish or dangerously foolhardy, because this is my building, and my office. And you shouldn’t be in it.’
His voice scraped against her skin, sending flickers of fear in every direction.
* * *
Watching her face turn pale, Rollo felt his stomach twist.
Beneath her bravado she was scared—maybe she wasn’t the hardened criminal he’d taken her to be.
But she was still guilty.
Guilty of knowing the power of her beauty and guilty of exploiting it to deceive and disarm. He stared at her critically, noting the slight tilt of her chin, the wash of colour on the flawless cheekbones. He’d known women like her before. One in particular, who had thought nothing of lying and manipulating those around her, causing havoc and devastation even as she played the victim.
Daisy had made the biggest mistake of her life if she thought her charms would work on him and, eyes narrowing, he let the silence lengthen until finally, with a mixture of defiance and almost exaggerated casualness, she said, ‘I was curious. I just wanted to have a look around.’
‘I see.’ He loaded his words with sarcasm. ‘And yet you didn’t put on the lights? You must have truly extraordinary night vision.’
Daisy bit her tongue. Already she hated that sneer, the way his eyebrows lifted, and the glitter in that mocking green gaze. Of course, she’d imagined what would happen if she got caught. But in her head she had pictured some bumbling security guard. She certainly hadn’t expected to be grilled by Rollo Fleming himself. The watch’s owner and a man who was demanding an honesty she couldn’t give.
‘I didn’t put the lights on because I thought somebody would see,’ she said quickly.
He was standing too close; the heat and scent of his body was messing with her head so that speaking in sentences was suddenly a struggle.
‘I know this floor is off limits, but I’ve worked here a couple of times and I wanted to see...’
She paused. What could she have possibly—believably—wanted to see in an unlit office?
Blood pounding in her ears, she stared desperately past him at the lit-up skyscrapers—and then her gaze locked on to the Empire State Building.
‘The city. At night,’ she said, her breath juddering in relief. ‘Everyone says the view from up here is amazing, so I thought I’d come and look.’
He stared at her for so long and so hard that she had to clench the muscles in her legs to stop them from giving way.
‘How?’
She blinked. ‘What?’
‘Not what. How? How did you get up to this level? Catering staff only have clearance for the floor they’re working on.’
Daisy swallowed. Keep it simple, she told herself. ‘I don’t know,’ she lied again. ‘I just pressed some buttons.’
Her head was starting to ache, and there was no way she could keep this up for much longer. It was time for a dignified retreat. David would understand, and together they could think of another less humiliating way to return Rollo Fleming’s watch to him.
She breathed out, fighting for calm. ‘Look, Mr Fleming, I’m really sorry I came up here, okay? It was a bad idea—a mistake—and I promise I will never do anything like it again. So if you could just forget I was ever here, I’d be really grateful.’
There was a taut silence as his gaze held hers.
‘Daisy. Pretty name...’ he said quietly.
She could sense he was battling to control his temper.
‘Old-fashioned. Sweet. Decent.’
He smiled—a chilling smile that sent a shiver down her backbone.
‘It’s a pity you don’t live up to it.’
She felt her body still. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said carefully.
He shook his head. ‘Then let me explain. I’ve had a long day...’
Pausing, he felt his shoulders stiffen. Not just long. It had been a day of frustration and failure. The deal was generous—he’d offered way more than the market value of the building—and yet once again James Dunmore had rejected it out of hand. And he still didn’t really understand why.
His lips pressed together. Or rather he did understand; he just didn’t know what to do about it. Dunmore didn’t approve of him, or his reputation for ruthlessness and womanising and so he wouldn’t sell. Rollo breathed out slowly. But he wanted that building—had wanted it for seventeen years—and he wasn’t about to give up now.
If only he could somehow persuade Dunmore that he’d changed...
He felt his pulse quicken. It made him feel tense, thwarted, just thinking about it. And now, as if he didn’t have enough to deal with, this woman, Daisy, was trying to hustle him.
So call Security, he told himself irritably.
There was no reason for him to deal with this.
But, looking up at Daisy, he felt his body twitch.
Except there was.
A beautiful, brown-eyed reason, with a body that made that completely uninspiring uniform look both chic and sexy. His eyes rested on her face. Aside from a faint smudge of pink on her lips, she was make-up-free. But then beauty like hers needed no enhancement. Everything from the soft curves of her mouth to the huge espresso-coloured eyes was designed to seduce.
She had attempted to pull her long blonde hair into some kind of low ponytail, but it was coming loose, and to his annoyance he found himself wanting to loosen it more. Could almost imagine what it would feel like between his fingers, the weight of it in his hands, and how it would fall forward when they kissed, the silken strands brushing his face—
