Blackmailing the Bad Girl (Cutting Loose)

by Nina Croft

  “And if I don’t want to work for you…?”

  “Then I take that file to the police.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  “But for a good cause.”

  “So you think breaking the law for a good cause makes it okay? The end justifies the means?”

  Why did he think that was a loaded question? “In some cases.”

  “You mean if it’s you doing the breaking? It’s a little like the dress code—one rule for you and one for the rest of the world. You have a lot of double standards, Mr. Masterton.”

  Christ, why had he ever thought she was sweet? She was like a pit bull. “Call me Nik. And it’s not me we’re discussing here.”

  She sniffed. “Very convenient. So, what’s the good cause?”

  “The rehabilitation of Summer Delaney.”

  Shock flashed across her face, her blue eyes widening. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope.”

  “You want to rehabilitate me? What are you? Some sort of do-gooder?”

  “I see it as my duty. I don’t want to send you back to prison—though I will, if you leave me no options. But at the same time, I can hardly release you on the unsuspecting world. I doubt stealing the money from me was your first offense. Because we both know it wasn’t your last.”

  Something flickered across her face—worry maybe—and he knew he was right. “So,” he continued, “knowing you’re likely to do the same thing all over again, it’s my duty to save my fellow rich men from you. And you from yourself.”

  “Excuse me while I throw up.”

  His lips twitched. “Luckily, you have a plastic bag on your knee. Please use it and don’t mess up my expensive car.”

  “It’s not as if you would have to clean it.” They were both quiet for a minute. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “My office.”

  “Is that a good idea? What if someone recognizes me? Someone without your altruistic tendencies who might go to the police?”

  “It’s unlikely. The crime was never reported. Only the head of finance knows about your not-so-little scam, and he won’t talk. And the head of HR knows a little. She had to cover for your sudden disappearance. She noted it as a death in the family, I believe.”

  “I’ll have to clear it with my parole officer.”

  “I’m sure that will be no problem. We’re actually quite a respectable company.”

  “Yeah. Aren’t they all.”

  She sounded bitter. “Do you have a reason to hate big corporations, Summer?”

  “None of your business.”

  “I’m making it my business. For the next little while, however long it takes for me to be sure you are going to change your ways, everything about you is my business.”

  “Then no. I have no reason.” She gave him a tight little smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Anything else?”

  Oh yeah. He wanted to know everything about her. She fascinated him. Such a mass of contradictions. So small and delicate, but with a core of steel. A seemingly innocent compulsive liar with the morals of a hardened criminal.

  Maybe Harry was right and he should just wash his hands of her. Either send the file to the police—she’d no doubt be arrested again and locked away for a good while longer—or just let her walk away. Give her some freedom, and if she went back to her old ways, it shouldn’t mean anything to him.

  Except it did. And he had no clue why he cared.

  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 acr
oss 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.

  Her stomach roiled at the thought of returning to prison, acid burning the back of her throat. She wouldn’t have survived without Regan and Darcy. Only they’d be out and she’d be back inside. She couldn’t let that happen.

  So whether she liked it or not, it was time to pay for her crime. And here she was, thinking she’d already paid. That she could move on with her life. She gritted her teeth. “Just tell me I won’t have to see you every day.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re my new personal assistant.” He smiled, a slow curl of his lips, and her heart stuttered, then started slamming against her rib cage.

  She was in so much trouble.

  But she could do this. She’d spent most of her adult life acting a part. All she had to do was convince him she was sorry—which shouldn’t be hard because she really was sorry. In prison, she’d come to see that what she’d done was wrong. She might have convinced herself at the time that she was righting a serious imbalance in the world, but if she was totally honest with herself, after that first job, she’d done it because she enjoyed it. Loved the excitement, pretending to be someone else, the hint of danger. It had all seemed like a game. Until she’d been caught, and then it had become very real.

  She’d believed she was done with the playacting. That she could spend some time and find out who she really was behind the anger and bitterness. Now it seemed she had one more role to play: Summer, the repentant. Nodding, she forced what she hoped was a remorseful smile to her lips. “Let’s go.”

  She waited until he got out of the car. Grabbing her plastic bag, she slid across the seat and climbed out after him, stumbling a little. That wine had gone straight to her head.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out to take her elbow.

  She snatched it back. “I’m just not used to alcohol.”

  He took off his glasses, hooked them in the pocket of his shirt, and frowned down at her. “You’ve lost weight.”

  “The food wasn’t so good.”

  “We need to fatten you up.”

  He was unreal. “So you’re my doctor now as well as my goddamn social worker?”

  He frowned harder, as if he wasn’t sure himself, and then turned away. She peered into the plastic bag, pulled out her purse, and tossed the bag, and the rest of its contents, into a nearby bin. Then she followed him.

  They took the elevator up to the top floor. Summer stared straight ahead, but was totally conscious of the tall figure at her side. He was just so big. Or maybe she was so small. Probably a bit of both. Her mind was rambling, a combination of nerves and wine. But she’d never been comfortable around men, always felt a little inadequate. She’d come to realize it was a result of being somewhat plump in her early teens, combined with a constant bombardment of “men are evil” from her mother. Now she wasn’t plump—she’d gone from plump to skinny in a matter of months at the age of fourteen after her mother’s accident. And living in the foster home, she’d come to realize that her mother was a bitter woman and not all men were necessarily evil. But she’d never managed to overcome her shyness with the opposite sex. Except with Danny, of course, who was more of a brother to her than anything else. And with this man. The first time they’d met, she’d felt immediately comfortable with him. He’d made her forget for a while, and just live in the moment. Though maybe “comfortable” wasn’t the right word.

  She was still trying to work out what the right word was when the elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

  “Summer,” he prompted when she remained motionless.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into a huge reception area. With pale gray walls and a deep blue carpet, it was all very tasteful. She’d never been up here before; the accounts department was two floors down, and there had been no reason for her to visit the executive suite. If she had, she might have caught on a little bit quicker just who Nik really was.

  When she hesitated, Nik placed a hand on the small of her back, and her nerves went into overdrive. He gently nudged her toward a door across the room.

  She thought it would lead into Nik’s office, but instead, they entered another spacious area with a desk sitting diagonally in the far corner, with a set of double doors to the right. The woman behind the desk was in her thirties, sleek and well dressed in a dark red suit. She smiled as Nik entered, the smile faltering as she took in Summer at his side.

  “Did you get everything sorted?” he asked.

  She nodded. “HR will send the contract through as soon as it’s done.”

  “Good. Bring it in when you get it.” Finally, he turned to Summer. “This is Lisa Graves. She’s my personal assistant and has a family emergency.”

  “Very convenient,” Summer muttered.

  “Not for her sister,” he replied. “Lisa, this is Summer. She’ll be taking over from you.”

  Lisa’s gaze traveled over Summer’s small jeans-clad figure, her eyes widening. “Are you sure? I can get one of the other PAs to step in.”

  He grinned. “Don’t look so worried. Despite her appearance, Summer is extremely intelligent and a quick learner. You’ve got three days to get her up to speed if you want to leave Friday.”

  “Two days,” Summer said.

  He turned to her.

  “I need tomorrow off,” she muttered. It wasn’t negotiable. She had things she had to do.

  “Not happening.”

  “It has to happen.” She had persuaded her mom not to visit the prison; she knew it would bre
ak her heart to see Summer locked up. They’d written, but it had been more than two years since they’d seen each other, and she had to make sure her mom was okay. But she wasn’t telling Nik that. Instead she waved a hand down her clothes. “I have nothing to wear. I need to go pick up some stuff. Sort out a few things.”

  His eyes narrowed, then his gaze slid down over her body, taking in the white T-shirt, threadbare jeans, and worn sneakers on her feet. “I’ll take you shopping.”

  Hell, no. That was taking things too far. From the expression on his assistant’s face, Summer had an idea Lisa thought so, too. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I also need to check in with my parole officer.”

  Lisa made a small noise, and Summer bit back her smile.

  “Okay, one day,” he said. “You can spend the rest of today with Lisa, then be back here Thursday morning.”

  She shrugged. “Okay.”

  He turned to Lisa. “I just want to go through a few things, then I’ll send her back to you. Is Harry in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell him I’m back and we’re on.”

  “Yes.”

  He started to turn away, then stopped. “Oh, and bring us some coffee.”

  “Yes.”

  Lisa appeared to have lost the ability to string together complex sentences. If the job consisted of just replying “yes” to everything Nik said, it shouldn’t be too big a problem.

  Summer followed him through the double doors and into what had to be his office—a classic example of restrained opulence. How could it be so totally over the top and still remain tasteful? And really, who needed an office this size? It was a huge room, with three walls made of glass. The ultimate corner office. She wandered to the nearest wall and stared out. They were in the center of the city, and London was spread out below them. Miles and miles of buildings. All those people. She had a sudden yearning to be somewhere where she wouldn’t see a building, just grass and sky.

  A vast steel desk and a leather chair were set in the corner against the glass walls. A black leather sofa ran along the opposite wall. Suddenly the strength went out of her. She crossed to the sofa and sank down. Resting her back against the soft leather, she closed her eyes.