But it wasn’t her problem, she reminded herself quickly. Maybe if theirs was a real relationship, his emotional disconnect would matter. But thankfully she would never have to endure the pain of loving Rollo. What she felt for him was just simple and shallow: lust.
Perhaps he registered the effect of his words, for when he spoke again she saw that the mockery in his eyes had faded.
‘You’ll be fine. He’s a nice man who just wants to hear about you—about us. All you have to do is pretend you’re madly in love with me.’
He shifted closer, his hand tightening on hers, and suddenly her mouth was dry, her heart hammering, her entire body so aware of him and only him that for a moment the noise of the helicopter faded away and it was as though they were flying through the air alone together.
‘Is that all?’ Their eyes met and she managed to smile. ‘In that case, no problem. You can be Romeo and I’ll just channel my inner Juliet.’
He laughed softly and she felt a rush of pleasure. Not just because she had made him laugh, but at the way his body was sprawled against hers. There was a take-it-for-granted intimacy to it that would have been impossible only a few days before.
‘Both of us dying over lunch seems a little extreme.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ she said lightly, glancing out of the window at the skyscrapers below. ‘It can’t be true love unless someone dies or ends up alone and heartbroken.’
Turning back, she expected him still to be smiling. But instead his eyes were fixed on her face, his expression serious and oddly intense.
‘I thought you believed in happy-ever-after,’ he said quietly.
The stillness in the cabin seemed to press against her so that suddenly she was painfully aware of her own breathing.
‘I did. I do—’
A pulse of tension was beating beneath her skin. Staring at him in confusion, she rewound their conversation, searching for an explanation for this abrupt change of mood.
Then from somewhere behind her head the intercom crackled and the voice of the pilot split the silence.
‘Just to let you know we’ll be landing in about five minutes, sir. There’s a slight breeze, but other than that it looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.’
Moments later the helicopter touched down on the roof of one of Manhattan’s many skyscrapers, and then they were walking across the concrete, her heels tapping like castanets.
‘This way, Mr Fleming... Ms Maddox.’
A bodyguard in a dark suit stepped forward, gesturing towards the lift. Watching the numbers change as the lift descended, Daisy felt her stomach tighten. It was almost the moment of truth. The moment she found out if all that preparation had paid off and the audience believed her performance.
She breathed out silently.
Everything should be all right. She knew his back story the way she knew her own life, and her body still pulsed with the aftershock of his lovemaking.
And yet something was wrong.
Beside her, Rollo was silent, his face expressionless. But something in the way he was holding his body made her instantly forget her own nerves.
‘Rollo—’
He didn’t answer and she held her breath, feeling almost as she had when she’d broken into his office. Only this time it was clear she was intruding on something deeper. She felt a sudden slippery panic slither over her skin. If she felt like an intruder, how were they ever going to convince Dunmore that their relationship was real?
‘Rollo. It’s going to be okay.’
‘I know.’
The distance in his voice caught her off guard. But before she could respond, the lift doors opened and she felt his hand on her arm. And then he was guiding her forward, past another bodyguard into a large, open-plan living space where two men stood talking casually by the window.
She stopped abruptly. ‘Rollo—’
Behind them she felt the bodyguard discreetly retreat as Rollo turned to face her.
A muscle flickered in his jaw. ‘Are you trying to make us late?’
It was an accusation dressed up as a question. But with a sting of shock, she realised it was more than that. It was a justification—a reason to be angry. But why did Rollo need to be angry?
And then, looking into his eyes, she felt a sudden painful tightening in her chest as she realised that it wasn’t anger he was feeling. It was fear. He was afraid of blowing the deal.
Instinctively she stepped forward and, taking his hand, squeezed it between her fingers.
‘I know how much this matters to you. It matters to me too, and together we can make it work. So please don’t push me away.’
As the silence stretched between them she thought he might do just that. But he didn’t. Instead, after a brief hesitation, his fingers tightened around hers.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly.
She breathed out sharply.
‘Good.’ Her eyes flared. ‘You should be. From now on it’s you and me against the world, right?’
As he nodded, she leaned forward and kissed him fiercely. When finally she drew back, some of the tension had left his face.
‘Was that for luck?’ he said softly.
She shook her head. ‘We don’t need luck. I just wanted to kiss you. And now I want you to take me to lunch.’
* * *
Halfway through her starter of burrata pugliese and wild strawberries, Daisy decided that James Dunmore was one of the nicest men she had ever met. Tall, with greying red hair, he was reassuringly unpretentious and far less intimidating than she’d expected given his wealth and status.
As they’d walked across the living room, he had greeted them warmly, thanked them both for joining him, and then immediately apologised for his wife’s absence.
‘Emily was so looking forward to seeing you again, Rollo, and, of course, to meeting you, Daisy. Unfortunately her sister was taken ill at the weekend, so she flew up to Vermont to be with her.’
He’d turned to the red-haired man standing next to him.
‘But on the plus side, I’ve managed to coerce my nephew, Jack, into joining us. He heads up my East Coast legal department.’
Jack stepped forward. ‘Hey, Rollo, good to meet you.’
‘And this is Daisy.’
Dunmore’s blue eyes had gleamed. ‘I must admit to having an ulterior motive for inviting Jack to join us today. When I heard that Rollo had got engaged I wanted a witness to the transformation. And, of course, to meet the woman who finally tamed him.’
Rollo had smiled coolly. ‘I think my reputation may have been somewhat exaggerated by the media.’
‘Well, I like mine,’ Daisy had said softly. ‘The woman who tamed Rollo Fleming! That would look great on a T-shirt, don’t you think?’
Dunmore had laughed. ‘It certainly would. Now, why don’t we eat? I hope you’re hungry, Daisy. I’m supposed to be watching my weight, but my chef, Jordi, makes it extremely difficult.’
The food was delicious. But after spending so much time around reserved Manhattan socialites, it was James Dunmore’s company that Daisy enjoyed most. He was warm and relaxed and, although he was the CEO of a property empire, it was clear he saw himself as a husband and father first.
‘So, Jack is your brother’s son?’ Leaning back to let the waiter clear her plate, Daisy glanced critically from Dunmore to his nephew. ‘He looks just like you. Except—’
‘He’s got all his own teeth.’
She laughed. ‘I was going to say that he’s got a different jawline.’
Dunmore frowned. ‘That’s true. Not many people notice that. They just see the hair—or what’s left of it. You’re very perceptive, Daisy.’
Smiling, she shrugged. ‘I’m an actress. Sometimes the right jawline gets you the part.’
The older man ran a hand through his hair. ‘Being red-headed runs in the family. Jack’s father and I used to get mistaken for one another a lot when we were younger.’
Daisy looked up cur
iously. ‘But you’re not twins?’
He shook his head. ‘Oddly enough, we actually have different mothers. But we both take after our dad.’
Leaning forward, Rollo laid his hand over hers. ‘Daisy has a twin. Her brother, David.’
‘A twin brother!’ Dunmore beamed. ‘You must have a very intuitive understanding of men.’ He glanced pointedly across the table at Rollo. ‘That must come in handy.’
Daisy smiled. ‘I wish it did. But David is nothing like Rollo.’
Or was he?
Not so long ago likening her uptight, sensitive brother to Rollo Fleming would have seemed utterly far-fetched. Now, though, it didn’t seem nearly as implausible. Rollo might appear autocratic and ruthless, but she had seen another side to him. Nervous, less guarded and kind too—particularly to her brother.
Pushing aside that disconcerting train of thought, she lifted up her glass. ‘He’s nothing like me either.’
‘But you’re close?’
‘Very.’ She nodded. ‘We were inseparable when we were little. We still are. But we’re very different. Not just in looks but personality, interests. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s like my conscience—always there inside my head.’
‘Sorry to butt in.’
It was Jack. He smiled at Daisy and then turned towards his uncle.
‘That was a message from Tom Krantz.’
Dunmore frowned. ‘Sorry, Daisy, would you excuse me? I wouldn’t normally let business interrupt, but—’
‘You don’t need to explain.’
Taking a sip of water, she smiled. But inside, her heart beat out a percussive rhythm of guilt.
David.
Her brother.
Her twin, who was always inside her head.
Once upon a time that might have been true. But she’d barely given David a thought over the last few days. Instead all fraternal concern had been blotted out by lust and self-absorption.
Lowering her glass she was suddenly conscious of the silence across the table.
Looking up, she met Rollo’s gaze.
‘I know you miss David. And I know you’re worried about him,’ he said softly, letting his fingers close around hers.
He envied the closeness she shared with her brother. The absolute trust and dependence. It was pure and powerful and unbreakable.
His chest grew tight. Or it was supposed to be anyway. He forced a smile.
‘But he’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of that.’
Daisy nodded. His hand felt warm. But it was the warmth and the certainty in his voice that eased the pain in her heart as Dunmore turned back towards her.
After coffee, they sat and chatted easily, until finally Rollo glanced at his watch.
‘We really ought to be getting back.’
‘Of course.’ Standing up, Dunmore patted Rollo on the shoulder. ‘But on one condition. I insist that you both come up to Swan Creek for the weekend. We’ll have lunch, and then maybe, Rollo, we can have another look at that proposal of yours.’
CHAPTER NINE
BACK AT THE PENTHOUSE, they tumbled into bed. It was fast and urgent, both of them gripped by the same hot desperation, furiously goading each other with their hands and mouths and bodies, until finally they shuddered to an explosive climax together.
Afterwards, Rollo gathered her against his damp body and, breathing out softly, drifted instantly into sleep.
Beside him though, Daisy lay wide awake. Beneath the beating of her heart Dunmore’s offer was playing on a loop inside her head.
‘Maybe, Rollo, we can have another look at that proposal of yours.’
Rollo had played it cool. He had shown no hint of triumph. But she knew that the older man’s words were exactly what he had been hoping to hear. What she too should have been pleased to hear. After all, the quicker Dunmore agreed to sell to Rollo, the sooner she would be free of him.
Only she didn’t feel pleased. In fact, being one step closer to Rollo achieving his goal, and thus to her freedom, was making her nerves twitch so that being still was suddenly an impossibility.
What she needed was an anaesthetic—a way to numb her brain. A few rigorous laps of the rooftop pool should do the trick.
Gently lifting Rollo’s arm, she slid off the bed and padded towards the dressing room.
Ten minutes later, she was sliding through the clear blue water, her mind so focused on the rhythm of her stroke that soon her anxieties faded away. Finally she could swim no more and, heart pounding, she pulled herself out onto the deck.
As she wiped the water from her eyes her heart did a backflip. Rollo was sitting on one of the loungers, wearing jeans, his feet and chest bare, a towel dangling from his hand.
She smiled. ‘I thought you were asleep.’
‘I was. But I woke up and you were gone.’
There was a tension in his voice she might have missed had she not grown so attuned to the subtleties of his manner.
‘I was a bit wound up,’ she said lightly. ‘So I went for a swim.’
His eyes rested on her face. ‘What’s up? Are you still worrying about David?’
She was about to nod automatically, but with shock she realised that she wasn’t. She had spoken to her parents and her brother on the way back to the apartment, and they’d been surprised—particularly David—by the news of her engagement. But as she’d expected their happiness had outweighed any misgivings. She felt calmer about everything except—
She shook her head. ‘It’s not David. It’s James. Mr Dunmore.’
His gaze searched her face with a hint of impatience.
‘What about him?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I suppose he wasn’t real before. Now he is. And I liked him,’ she said simply.
‘And that’s a problem?’ His fingers tapped irritably against the arm of the chair.
She caught her breath, his impatience stirring irritation of her own. ‘Yes. I don’t like lying to someone I like and respect.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m sure you’ll still “like and respect” him when he agrees to sell to me.’
She stared at him, her heart banging against her ribs. He was missing the point. Or choosing to miss it.
‘It just makes me feel shabby. He’s a nice man. He doesn’t deserve—’
‘Deserve what?’ His face was set, the tension in his body now a tangible presence. ‘The large sum of money I’m going to pay him? Dunmore’s a businessman. If he sells to me, it will be a business decision, not a favour or a charitable bequest.’
She shivered. His whole manner had changed, his face hardening to a mask so that it was all she could do to meet his gaze.
‘That’s not what you said before,’ she said hoarsely. ‘You said he’d only sell to someone with the right values. That’s why we have to marry, isn’t it? So he’ll believe you’ve found love and happiness with the right woman?’
He flinched at her words—or maybe it was the sunlight catching her eye, for when she looked at him again he seemed as poised and cold as before.
‘I’m not responsible for what Dunmore believes or feels.’
‘What about what you feel?’ The blood was humming in her head, a nub of dread chafing beneath her heart. ‘I thought you liked him.’
A muscle flickered in his cheek.
‘It would make no difference to my decision if I didn’t. This is business, and feelings have nothing to do with business.’ He stood up abruptly. ‘But, more important, neither do you. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re just here to clear a debt.’
Her breath seemed to fray in her chest. Just here to clear a debt. It sounded like an epitaph. And in a way it was—an epitaph for her naivety.
Had she really thought having sex with Rollo would change their relationship? She’d been wrong.
They were back to being strangers.
She wanted to rail against her stupid, gullible self for the way she had lain in his arms, opened her body to his, felt—
>
Her hands started to shake and, balling them into fists, she directed her fury at Rollo instead.
‘No, that’s your reason, Rollo, not mine. I’m here because I love my brother. But do you know something? I’d stay now even if you weren’t blackmailing me, because I know how much this deal means to you. Perhaps if you cared about anything other than your business and that building, you might understand that. Oh, and you might not have to blackmail a stranger into playing your wife. You might actually be the man you’re pretending to be!’
His face was blank, but she could tell he was fighting for control...at the edge of losing his temper.
‘You know nothing about me. Or what I care about.’
There was a clear note of warning in his voice and she was glad, for it meant that she had struck a nerve.
‘Why? Because I’m just a woman clearing a debt?’
But even as she spoke she knew that it wasn’t about her. This was about him. About his anger and his arrogance and the mask that came down every time he thought she was getting too close.
‘You’re wrong, Rollo. I do know what you care about. You care about honesty. Only you’re not being honest now about why you’re upset with me.’
There was a long, quivering silence. Finally, he breathed out unsteadily. ‘Did you mean it? What you said about staying with me?’
She blinked. She hadn’t planned on saying those words; they’d sprung from somewhere deep inside. She felt suddenly vulnerable, hearing them repeated back to her. But even if it meant looking foolish and weak, she wasn’t going to lie to him.
She nodded. ‘But I don’t suppose that matters to you any more than I do.’
‘You do matter...’
‘I know.’ She spoke coldly, her eyes blazing. ‘Without me you won’t get your building—’
‘No, not because of that...’ He hesitated, a tremor moving across his face. ‘What I said yesterday—it was true. You’re all I think about and—’ The skin across his cheekbones was stretched taut; his shoulders rising and falling. ‘You’re right. I am upset.’
‘Because I said I didn’t like lying to Dunmore?’
Blackmailed Down the Aisle Page 14
