Temporary Mistress. Sarah Morgan
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then realised how naive and gullible she sounded. He had probably only been winding her up. Would she never learn? ‘Oh, very funny!’
Her withering glare had no effect. ‘Do you see me laughing?’
She made one last attempt at reasoning him out of his implacable hostility. ‘Look, I admit that I shouldn’t have run off last night, but I made a mistake—’
‘And now you have a chance to rectify it. Give me what I want and I’ll consider us even.’
Her stomach quivered. ‘Y-You mean…here?’ she squeaked. ‘Now?’
She had a fevered vision of him taking her right there on her kitchen floor, in the full dazzle of sunlight, sliding her against the hard glossy vinyl as he drove ruthlessly for the satisfaction which she had denied him last night.
‘Yes, now. Before things go any further. That is, if they haven’t already…’
The implicit threat in his tone nipped her torrid fantasy in the bud. The thumping ache in her head almost obliterated coherent thought, but she had sense enough to decide she wasn’t going to leap to any more embarrassing conclusions.
‘Perhaps you’d better spell out exactly what it is you want from me,’ she said warily.
His eyes ignited under the scowling black brows, scorching her with his fury. ‘It’s a bit late to try and act innocent,’ he growled. ‘We both know you’re as guilty as sin. I want the property you lifted from my hotel room.’ He straightened, exuding a powerful menace. ‘So, are you going to hand it over quietly—or are we going to have to do this the hard way?’
Chapter Six
‘PROPERTY—?’ Nora broke off, a smile of relieved enlightenment dawning on her pallid face. ‘Ohh—oh you mean that…’
There was no answering humour in his expression. ‘Yes, that,’ he echoed grimly.
‘I told you I wasn’t thinking straight this morning, otherwise I would have clicked straight away,’ she said, embarrassed by her obtuseness. ‘Of course you want your disk back…I’m really sorry for the mix up. I’ll just go and get it—’
She moved, confidently expecting him to give way, but he didn’t and she walked straight into his solid chest. His hands closed around her upper arms as her bare feet stubbed themselves against his polished shoes. She gave a little squeak as he lifted her until her face was level with his.
‘Go where, exactly?’
‘To my bedroom,’ she gasped, conscious of her dangling legs bumping against his iron thighs, of the effortless ease with which he had lifted her. ‘If you’ll put me down, I’ll fetch it for you—’
‘Like an obedient little bitch? I don’t think so.’ His acid words were etched with cynicism. ‘I’m sure you’ll understand if I insist on coming with you. I wouldn’t like you to vanish on me again.’
‘For goodness’ sake, what do you think I’m going to do? Climb out the window?’ she protested shakily, pushing against his iron shoulders to little effect.
‘At this point, I wouldn’t put anything past you,’ he said, setting her back down on the ground, but keeping a firm grip on one slender elbow.
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, hurrying into the bedroom, trying to ignore his overwhelming closeness and the electric tingle of his fingertips against her skin. ‘It’s not as if I meant to take it. It must have got caught up in the folds of my coat when I grabbed it off your desk last night. I was going to courier it back to you today—’
‘Really?’ He drew out the word into a sceptical drawl.
Nora had always thought her bedroom was airy and spacious, but as soon as Blake stepped through the door the proportions suddenly seemed to shrink and the oxygen supply dip below the level of comfort.
‘It’s not usually this messy,’ she was annoyed to find herself explaining, hastily gathering up the scattered clothing from the rumpled bedcover. ‘I—I left in rather a hurry yesterday.’
His all-encompassing glance had taken in the orderly possessions on her mirrored dressing-table, the neatly coordinated clothes hanging in the open wardrobe and the tidy row of photo frames on her tallboy.
‘Are these your parents?’
‘What?’ She looked up from rummaging in the bulging side pocket of the soft-sided case that held her laptop to see him studying a photo of herself aged ten, flanked by a blond couple exchanging laughing looks over her nut-brown head. ‘Oh, no, they died when I was little—that’s my father’s sister and her husband—Aunt Tess and Uncle Pat—they brought my brother Sean and me up.’ Her voice was coloured with unconscious warmth as she attempted to take the edge off his hostility by adding, ‘They hadn’t planned on having kids themselves, so we were a bit of a drag on their lifestyle, but they never made us feel unwanted—’
‘Do they still live in Invercargill?’
She stiffened. She was sure she hadn’t mentioned her origins last night. He must have discovered it while delving into her identity. It gave her a shivery feeling to think that he knew things about her that she hadn’t chosen to tell him. Not that she had anything to hide, she consoled herself. The fact that she had lived the majority of her life in a small town on the southernmost tip of the South Island was a point in her favour as far as she was concerned.
‘Yes, they do. As I’m sure your paid snoop will confirm,’ she said tartly, pulling out the compact disk in its clear plastic protector. She had been a self-deluded idiot to think for even one second that Blake MacLeod’s unfinished business with her was anything to do with what had happened between them in his room last night.
He turned. ‘A wise man knows his enemies.’
‘I’m not your enemy,’ she protested, slapping the disk into his outstretched hand. ‘And I don’t steal,’ she added with all the force of angry sincerity. ‘When I found this lying on the back seat of my car last night, I had no idea where it came from—’
He stared impassively down into her wide-set eyes. ‘Copies?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I want any and all copies you’ve made,’ he said, slipping the CD into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘And don’t bother to tell me you didn’t burn any, because I wouldn’t believe you.’
She gritted her teeth. He made it sound as if good computer housekeeping was a criminal act. ‘Since I didn’t know what the disk was, of course I made a back-up copy before I tried to open it,’ she informed him.
‘Is that where you were last night…at your office, downloading my confidential data on to Maitlands’ network? I suppose you were hoping I wouldn’t notice anything was missing until today. Unluckily for you, I decided to do some more work after you ran out on me—’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! I never went near the office,’ she said tightly, massaging her aching temple. ‘Why would I? I told you, I didn’t know what the disk was, and I couldn’t very well return it until I found out who it belonged to, could I? I happened to have my laptop with me, so I used that to check it out.’ She found the copy she had made and shoved it at him. ‘There. Now, feel free to leave after you apologise!’
Her bitter sarcasm had little effect. ‘Did you make a printout or email it to anyone?’
Her generous mouth thinned. ‘Of course not. And, no, I’m not going to turn over my computer to you—you’ll just have to take my word for it.’
‘And why should I do that?’
‘Because I’m a very trustworthy person,’ she snapped.
His steely gaze was unrelenting as it inspected her shiny face. ‘You expect me to