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—
Abruptly he lifted his head, his eyes glinting.
‘As I was saying, I’ve had a long, difficult day—’
‘Then why don’t I just get out of your way?’ Heart lurching like a ship at sea, Daisy edged backwards. ‘I probably should get back to work anyhow.’
She glanced past him, every fibre in her body focused on reaching the door and freedom, and then her stomach lurched too as he shook his head slowly,
‘I don’t think so.’
His hand coiled around her wrist, his touch searing her skin. ‘You’re not going anywhere until you tell me the truth.’
‘Let go of me.’ She tugged her arm, trying not to give in to the cold, slippery panic curling around her heart like an eel. ‘I have told you the truth!’
‘Enough!’
His voice was sharp and final, like a guillotine falling, and she felt his grip tighten.
‘You have done nothing but lie since you opened your mouth. Now, most men might fall for this eyelash-fluttering, little-girl-lost routine, but I’m not most men. So save your pouting and tell me what you’re doing here.’
‘I’m not pouting.’ She jerked her arm free. Stuffing her hands back into her apron, she tightened her fingers involuntarily around the swipe card. ‘And most men—most reasonable, decent men—wouldn’t be interrogating me about an honest mistake.’
He laughed without humour. ‘Honest? I doubt you know the meaning of the word.’
Her hands curled into fists. ‘Just because you’re some big shot property tycoon, it doesn’t give you the right to play judge, jury and executioner. I’m not on trial here.’
‘No. But you will be.’ He stared at her speculatively. ‘At a rough guess facing charges of trespass, unlawful entry, intent to rob—’
‘I didn’t come here to rob anyone,’ Daisy snapped. ‘If you must know, I came here to—’
Breaking off, she stared at him in horror. Around her the tension in the room had soared, so that suddenly she felt as though the walls and the windows might implode.
His gaze was fixed and unblinking. ‘To what?’
She stared at him mutely, frozen, horrified by how close she’d come to betraying David—and then in the beat of her heart she darted past him. But he was too quick, and before her brain had even registered him moving, his arm was curving around her waist and pulling her against the hard muscles of his chest.
It was like an electric shock. For a moment she forgot everything. Everything except the fierce, prickling heat surging through her body, warming her blood and melting her bones, so that in another second she knew her legs would buckle beneath her.
‘Let go of me.’ Angry, outraged—more by her body’s inappropriate response than his restricting grip—she started to punch his arm, but he simply ignored the blows, jerking her closer.
‘Stop it,’ he said coldly. ‘You’re not helping yourself.’
‘You’re hurting me.’
‘Then stop fighting me.’
His arm curled tighter, so that his stomach was pressing against her spine. But despite his anger, and even though she could feel his strength, she was surprised to find she wasn’t afraid of him physically.
Only there was no time to ponder why that should be the case as he said sharply, ‘What’s in your hand?’
Instantly all her efforts were concentrated on clenching her fist as tightly as possible. But it was a short, unequal fight, and she watched helplessly as, uncurling her fingers, he prised the security card from her hand.
‘Thank you,’ he said softly, and abruptly he loosened his grip and jerked her round to face him.
She gazed at him dazedly. Her pulse was racing, her blood thundering like an incoming tide. She felt her stomach tighten painfully as his eyes flickered over the card.
‘Where did you get this?’
For a moment she considered telling him the truth. But one look at his face was all it took to convince her that that course of action would not only be foolish but hazardous. He was furious. Beyond furious. He was enraged.
‘It was on the floor.’
‘Of course it was!’
The jeer in his voice sliced through her skin like a knife, so that she had to swallow against the pain. The air was thickening around her and she was finding it hard to breathe. His anger was overwhelming her. She couldn’t fight the way he did—didn’t have that desire to win whatever the consequences. Whatever the cost...
‘I...I... It must... Someone must have dropped it.’
Rollo shook his head dismissively.
He could deal with her lies. He could even understand
