Living On The Edge. Susan Mallery

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Living On The Edge - Susan  Mallery


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All right, back to work, my boy. The same for me. These problems won’t solve themselves, will they?”

      With that, the old man hung up. Christopher slammed the receiver back into place. What he wouldn’t give to get his hands on Madison. He wouldn’t just show her his softer side, as her father had requested, he would strangle the bitch with his bare hands.

      How had it all gone wrong? Keane wasn’t supposed to intercept the ransom. Christopher had been counting on that money. He’d needed fifteen of the twenty million for his next payment to Stanislav. The Russian Mafia did not like to be kept waiting. The remaining five million had been to cover his gambling losses. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

      He stood, crossed to the credenza against the wall, picked up the vase there and threw it into the closed door. The loud smash followed by the rain of shards on the hardwood floor made him feel better for a brief second or two, but then desperation and panic returned.

      He needed the next phase of the jamming system. He’d already arranged a press conference to announce it and if he canceled now, people would talk. Word would travel around the industry that his program was in trouble. No, he had to get the money somehow.

      He returned to his desk and glanced at the calendar. There wasn’t much time left. Stanislav had warned him that if he was late again, the Russian would find another buyer. Christopher couldn’t let that happen. He needed the cutting-edge technology and the billions it would bring in to his company and, therefore, to him. He wanted to be the biggest and the best, then he wanted to destroy everyone who had ever said he couldn’t do it.

      And he wanted Madison back. He wanted her crawling, broken and bleeding. He would use her until she begged and then he would kill her.

      When that happened, it would be a very good day.

      Chapter 3

      Madison walked back and forth in the small room until her legs and back ached, then she perched on the edge of the bed and stared at the door. Once again, she had no idea of how much time had passed or when Tanner Keane would return. She only knew she was desperately afraid he wouldn’t find whatever he’d gone looking for and that he would return her to Christopher. One thing she’d learned in the past few days was that she wasn’t ready to die.

      She rested her elbows on her thighs and dropped her head to her hands. Thoughts swirled—a kaleidoscope of the mistakes she’d made that had brought her to this place. Had it started when she’d fallen for Christopher, or did the roots go deeper than that? Had her first sin been committed when she’d grown up spoiled and selfish, never looking at the world beyond what it could offer her?

      A sound caught her attention. She straightened, then stood, only to sink back onto the bed when the room seemed to swim around her. In the time it took to clear her head, the door opened and Tanner stepped inside.

      She forced herself to her feet and stared at him. His expression gave nothing away, which shouldn’t surprise her. She wanted to speak, to ask about her fate, but her mouth was too dry. The ever-present fear grew until it pushed the air out of her body.

      “I had an interesting talk with your husband,” he said as he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest.

      “Ex-husband,” she whispered, never taking her gaze from his face.

      “Funny how he doesn’t mention that, although I checked on the records, and you’re right. The divorce is final.”

      Some small measure of relief battled for space with the fear. Did that mean he would believe her? That she could be safe for a little while longer?

      She waited, instinctively knowing it would be better if he spoke rather than her.

      “I don’t believe you,” he said flatly.

      The blood seemed to rush from her body, leaving her cold and boneless. She sank to the bed as the room spun and a high-pitched sound filled her head.

      “But I don’t believe him, either.”

      Madison blinked. “W-what?”

      “Something’s not right. I think you’re a rich bitch drama queen, but I’m not convinced your ex is telling the truth. There are secrets on both sides, and I want to know what they are.”

      He defined her in words designed to wound, but right now she didn’t care what he thought of her.

      “You’re not sending me back?” she asked, barely daring to hope.

      “Not yet.”

      Fear receded, leaving little to support her, and she swayed slightly. Tanner frowned.

      “When was the last time you ate or slept?” he asked.

      “It’s been a while.”

      His face tightened with contempt. “I know it’s stylish to be stick-thin, but starvation isn’t much of a fashion statement.”

      She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. I couldn’t eat there. Or sleep. This isn’t about being on a diet. I just…” She drew in a breath. “Have you ever been kidnapped? It’s not a restful situation.”

      He didn’t look convinced. The man didn’t like her, and she found the realization oddly comforting. He didn’t want anything from her except the truth. He was good enough not to be willing to return her to a situation that might be dangerous, but he wasn’t interested in what he could get from her.

      But she did have something to offer him.

      “I’ll pay you for your protection,” she said. “Double whatever Christopher offered you.”

      Tanner’s gaze narrowed and his mouth twisted. “Don’t make me think less of you than I already do,” he said flatly. “I’m not doing this for the money.”

      She wanted to ask why he was then. Why didn’t he just let her go and be killed? But she didn’t—there was no point in pushing him.

      “I find it interesting that you’ve taken such a dislike to me when you don’t know me at all,” she said instead.

      “I know your type.”

      “What type is that?”

      “Rich. Useless.”

      He spoke with a certainty that told her she wasn’t the first wealthy woman to cross his path and that whoever had done it before had scarred him in some way. A lover? A client?

      Tanner straightened. “I’m moving you to a safe house. No one will be able to find you there, so you can eat and get some sleep. I’ll keep on investigating Hilliard. If I turn up enough evidence to validate what you’ve told me, we’ll talk about you hiring me to protect you. If you’re lying…”

      His voice trailed off. She had no doubt there would be some serious punishment involved. Still, she wondered if he could come up with anything worse than what she’d already endured. He didn’t seem to be the type to use physical force against someone so ill equipped to handle it. She supposed rape was a possibility, but she doubted that was his style. Wasn’t rape supposed to be about power? Tanner was the most powerful man she’d ever met. He would hardly need to prove himself.

      Oh, but he would think of something. She was confident. She supposed she should worry about that, but she couldn’t. After all she’d been through in the past ten days, she couldn’t find the strength to be any more afraid.

      “I accept your terms.”

      One corner of his mouth turned up in an almost smile. “You don’t have a choice.”

      “Perhaps not, but I accept them anyway.”

      “I’m going to have to blindfold you. The safe house works only as long as no one knows where it is. If the idea of a blindfold freaks you out, I can sedate you.”

      The idea of a blindfold terrified her. It was too much like


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