“What’s it to be—me, or the police?”

Out-of-work actress Daisy Maddox would do anything for her brother—even sneak into a sleek New York office to return the watch he stole from billionaire Rollo Fleming.

When Rollo catches her red-handed, Daisy is completely at his mercy. But Rollo needs a wife to seal a deal, and events take a wild turn—he demands Daisy become his temporary wife!

Swept into Rollo’s world, Daisy’s caught in an intense tangle of emotions. And with every searing kiss, Daisy’s guard melts, as she discovers there are unexpected, pleasurable advantages to being blackmailed down the aisle...

‘What were we talking about?’ Rollo said softly. ‘Oh, yes. Our chemistry.’

‘It’s just not there,’ Daisy said hastily, trying not to breathe in the clean masculine smell of his body. ‘And, believe me, you can’t just manufacture it for the cameras. It has to be real.’

Rollo let silence build between them. He wondered if she realised that her body was contradicting her words. That her cheeks were flushed and her lips were parted invitingly.

Scrutinising her face, he frowned. His eyes narrowed. ‘I wonder…how would we test it? If this was a real acting job, I mean.’

Her eyes froze mid-blink. ‘I suppose we’d do an audition.’

Taking a step closer, he smiled—a small, dispassionate smile. ‘What a good idea,’ he murmured.

And slowly he lowered his head and kissed her on the lips.

LOUISE FULLER was a tomboy who hated pink and always wanted to be the prince—not the princess! Now she enjoys creating heroines who aren’t pretty pushovers but strong, believable women. Before writing for Mills & Boon she studied literature and philosophy at university, and then worked as a reporter on her local newspaper. She lives in Tunbridge Wells with her impossibly handsome husband, Patrick, and their six children.

Books by Louise Fuller

Mills & Boon Modern Romance

Claiming His Wedding Night

A Deal Sealed By Passion

Vows Made in Secret

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.uk.for more titles.

Blackmailed Down the Aisle

Louise Fuller

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my parents. For taking me to the library. A lot.

Thank you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE PARTY WAS loud and hot and crowded.

Everywhere people were dancing, laughing, punching the air. Everyone was having fun. Everyone except Daisy Maddox. Leaning against the wall, her blonde hair lit up by the flashing strobe lights, she stood slightly apart, gazing critically across the room.

Nowhere in the world was as vibrant as Manhattan at midnight. And nowhere was more glamorous than Fleming Tower, the lean, gleaming skyscraper of steel and glass owned by her brother David’s boss, Rollo Fleming, billionaire property tycoon and the party’s host.

Daisy sighed softly. It was a great party.

As long as you were a guest!

Stifling a yawn, she glanced down at her uniform. If, like her, you were handing out glasses of champagne, then it was just another shift at work. And being a waitress sucked—no matter how cool the venue. Or how attractive the guests.

She glanced over at the young man who had been hovering at her elbow all evening.

Skinny, dark and charming, he was exactly her type. Ordinarily she might have flirted a little, but tonight she was struggling even to remember he was there.

‘Come on!’ He smiled at her hopefully. ‘One little glass won’t hurt.’

Behind his back, Joanne, another of the waitresses, rolled her eyes.

Daisy breathed out slowly. Six months ago she’d arrived at David’s apartment, hoping to make it big on Broadway. Only just like the rest of her life nothing had gone to plan, and her dreams had got lost in a depressing loop of auditions and rejections. But all those years at drama school hadn’t been entirely wasted, she thought wearily as, setting her expression to one of disappointment, she gave him a small, regretful smile.

‘It’s sweet of you, Tim. But I can’t. Like I told you earlier. I don’t drink when I’m working.’ She glanced pointedly down at her uniform, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

‘It’s not Tim—it’s Tom. Come on. It’s just one glass. I promise I won’t tell.’ He grinned encouragingly. ‘It’s not like the big boss man is here to catch you.’

Rollo Fleming. The ‘big boss man.’ Picturing his cool, handsome face—the one that gazed so disdainfully out from the Fleming Organisation’s website—Daisy felt her heart thump nervously. It was true. Despite the fact that the party was in his building, for his staff, Rollo had declined to attend.

Of course, there had been the usual rumours he would turn up unannounced. Someone even claimed to have seen him in the foyer. But Daisy knew for sure that he wasn’t coming. Rollo Fleming was in Washington on business, and by the time he returned the party would be wrapped up. Finished. Over.

And not just the party, she thought, glancing furtively at the clock on the wall.

‘So do you work for him?’

Startled, she turned and saw that Joanne was looking curiously at Tom.

He nodded. ‘Yeah, for about a year now.’

‘Really?’ Joanne’s eyes widened. ‘He is seriously hot. What’s he like?’

Her question was directed at Tom, but Daisy had to bite her tongue to stop herself from replying. Hours scouring the internet had turned her into the world’s leading authority on Rollo Fleming. Not that there was much to know. He rarely gave interviews and, aside from being photographed with a string of breathtakingly beautiful models and socialites, his private life was largely undocumented.

Tom shrugged, and a mixture of awe and admiration crossed his face. ‘I don’t have that much to do with him personally. But when it comes to business he’s definitely got the Midas touch. And he gets all the hottest babes.’

He frowned.

‘He’s kinda scary too though. I mean, he works insanely hard and he’s a total control freak. He knows everything that’s going on—and I mean every tiny detail. And he’s obsessed with honesty...’ He paused, frowning. ‘I was in a meeting with him once and there was a problem. Someone tried to cover it up and he was... Let’s just say you wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.’

Daisy felt her stomach twist.

Tom’s words confirmed everything David had already told her. Rollo Fleming was a ruthless workaholic and a commitment-phobic philanderer. Basically a supercharged version of Nick, her ex, and exactly the kind of man she loathed.

Looking up, her heart gave a jolt—not at the memory of her latest failed relationship but at the time showing on the clock. Her shift was nearly over. On any other evening she would have been relieved, but tonight was different. Tonight was the first and hopefully the last time she would have to choose between breaking a promise and breaking the law.

‘Are you okay?’ Joanne nudged her arm. ‘You look like you’re going to be sick.’

Daisy swallowed. She felt as if she was too. Just thinking about what she was about to do was making the contents of her stomach curdle.

She smiled weakly. ‘I know it’s the city that never sleeps, but sometimes I wish New York would have an early night!’

‘Look...’ Glancing around, Joanne lowered her voice. ‘Why don’t you go home? I can finish up here.’

Daisy shook her head. ‘I’m just tired. And I don’t want to leave you in the lurch—’

‘You’re not!’ Joanne frowned. ‘So stop pretending you feel okay.’

Daisy hesitated. She hated lying to Joanne, particularly when her friend was being so kind. But she could hardly tell her the truth. She was only just coming to terms with it herself.

Stomach tightening, she thought back to the moment four days ago when she’d arrived back at David’s apartment to find him in tears. After much coaxing he’d finally confessed that he had a gambling problem. Only it was way more than a problem. It turned out he’d been gambling and losing money for months, and his debt had spiralled out of control.

Daisy shivered. Her parents had drummed into them the importance of living within their means. But David’s debt was the least of his problems. Dropping off some papers in Rollo Fleming’s office earlier that day, he had noticed a watch on the floor. Only it hadn’t been just any watch. It had been an exclusive designer watch. And he hadn’t just noticed it. He’d picked it up and pocketed it, imagining that he’d be able to sell it and thus clear his debt.

Back home, he’d realised what he’d done and broken down completely. Which was why Daisy had ended up promising to return it for him.

The thought jogged her back into real time. Looking up, she grimaced. ‘I do feel a bit odd. Maybe I will go now. Thanks, Jo. You’re a star.’

Joanne nodded. ‘Yes, I am. But don’t be too grateful. I need you to cover for me on Tuesday.’ Her face softened. ‘Cam’s taking me out to dinner. It’s our six-month anniversary.’

That was what she wanted to be doing, Daisy thought dully as she negotiated a path between the drunken partygoers into the deserted hallway. Going on an anniversary date with a boyfriend.

But, of course, that would require a boyfriend.

And five weeks ago Nick had decided that he needed some space.

Space!

Glumly, she stopped in front of the lifts.

Romeo never told Juliet he needed ‘space.’

Antony hadn’t said, ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ to Cleopatra.

She stared at her reflection in the gleaming steel doors.

All men were unreliable and selfish or, more likely, she was just an extremely poor judge of character. Either way, she’d had enough. For the foreseeable future she was going to enjoy being single.

Reaching into the large pocket at the front of her apron, she pulled out a laminated card and stared down at her brother’s face. Thank goodness for David. He was always there for her—helping her rehearse for auditions, even finding her this waitressing job.

Swiping the card, she felt her breath twitch in her throat as the light turned green and the doors slid open smoothly.

She owed David big time.

And now she had a chance to pay him back.

Her fingers trembled. But could she do it. Could she actually go through with it?

She hesitated. But only for a moment.

David was waiting downstairs for her in the lobby and the thought of his face, his relief as she walked towards him, propelled her forward.

Inside the lift, panicky thoughts fluttered inside her head, darting back and forth like startled birds, but then the doors were opening and, heart pounding, she stepped into a dimly lit corridor.

David had told her which office belonged to Rollo and, her heels clicking lightly on the polished wood floor, she walked across the reception area and came to a standstill in front of a plain wooden door. For a moment she stared at it in silence. There was no nameplate—nothing to differentiate it from any of the other doors—and for a moment she wondered why. It seemed a strangely modest touch from a man worth billions who made no secret of the fact that he considered himself not just a businessman but an empire builder.

But then, did a man like Rollo Fleming really need any introduction? Particularly in the gleaming glass tower that bore his name.

It felt like she was about to enter the lion’s den. But, lifting her chin, she braced her shoulders. The lion wasn’t at home. And by the time he returned, she would be long gone.

Breathing in sharply, she swiped the card and pushed open the door.

Everything was silent and dark. But through the window all the familiar landmarks were lit up against the night sky, and she gazed at it in wonder. Rollo Fleming must have the best view in New York. But every moment spent in his office increased her risk of being caught and, galvanised by that thought, she stepped forward unthinkingly.

‘Ouch!’

Her knee collided sharply with something hard in the darkness, but her pain was quickly forgotten as she felt whatever it was she’d walked into start to move. Heart pounding, she reached out, groping blindly, trying to stop whatever it was from falling. But it was too late, and the next moment there was a thump that echoed round the empty office like cannon fire.

‘Good one, Daisy!’ she muttered into the taut, strained silence that followed. ‘Why don’t you just set off some fireworks while you’re at it?’

Gritting her teeth, she reached down and gingerly rubbed her knee—and then suddenly froze as from the other side of the door she heard the clear and unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching.

They slowed and stopped, and her heart began to beat with such force that she thought it would burst through her ribcage, and then she scrunched up her eyes as the door swung open and light flooded the room.

For the longest moment she waited—hoping, praying like a child that if she couldn’t see whoever it was, they wouldn’t be able to see her. But her hope was swiftly extinguished as a voice—cool, curt and very, very male—interrupted the tense silence.

‘I’ve had a long and disappointing day, so I hope, for your sake, that you have a good explanation for this intrusion—’

Opening her eyes, Daisy blinked. The words had sent a ripple of dread down her spine, but that was nothing compared to the dismay she felt as she gazed up at the face of the man standing in front of the open door.

Rollo Fleming was supposed be in Washington.

On business.

But, unless she was hallucinating, neither of those facts were true.

The shock should have felled her and it would have done so, had she not been so distracted by the reality of his beauty.

On a screen, or in a magazine, Rollo Fleming was movie star handsome. In the flesh, however, his good looks were multiplied by ten, compounded by an intense mix of masculinity and power that made heat break out over her skin.

Not that he was her type, she thought hurriedly. He was too blonde, too poised, too calculating. It must just be the shock that was making her want to look at him. And keep on looking.

Golden-skinned, with a sharp clean-lined jaw and close-cropped blonde hair, he looked more like a Roman gladiator than a billionaire property tycoon. Only the very dark and obviously very expensive single-breasted suit gave any hint that he was worth more than the GDP of some small countries.

He looked at her directly then, and she felt his gaze like cool water hitting the back of her throat. His eyes were extraordinary—clear, glittering green, like shards of broken glass. But it was the beautiful full-lipped curve of his mouth that tugged the most at her senses. It was a mouth she could imagine softening into the sexiest smile—

Her heart jerked.

Only it wasn’t smiling now. Instead it was set in a straight, forbidding line that perfectly matched the rigid hostility of his body blocking the doorway. Nervously she glanced around the office, looking for another means of escape. But despite it being the size of a small barn, there were no other exits. Just a lot of cool designer-looking furniture.

She was trapped.

Her pulse shivered. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She hadn’t come here for confrontation or explanation. But now there was no choice but to improvise.

‘I—I can explain,’ she stammered.

‘Then I suggest you begin.’

He stood like an actor on stage, his spotlit face impassive, but there was a dangerous undertone in his voice that made her heartbeat accelerate unevenly.

‘Just keep it short and simple. Like I said, I’ve had a long day... Daisy.’

He spoke her name softly, almost like an endearment, so that it was a moment before her brain registered the fact that he knew who she was. As she glanced up, eyes widening in shock, he shook his head dismissively, his gaze dropping to the laminated badge pinned to her blouse.

‘So it is your name. I thought you’d stolen that from some poor hapless waitress downstairs.’

There was no mistaking the flicker of scorn in his eyes, and her hand rose protectively to cover the badge even as his accusation stung her out of her fear and shock.

‘I didn’t. My name really is Daisy and, for your information, I am one of those poor hapless waitresses. That’s why I’m here.’

Her eyes locked with his. Pushing her hands into the pocket of her apron, her fingers brushed against David’s security card, and she felt a sudden fierce urgency to protect her brother.

‘I was working at the party downstairs and I was going to get some more napkins from the kitchens,’ she lied. ‘But I pressed the wrong button in the lift.’

For a moment Rollo stared at her coldly, then without turning he pushed the door shut.

In less than three seconds he had crossed the room, and as he stopped in front of her, her body tensed with panic.

‘I told you to keep it short and simple. Clearly what I should have said was tell the truth.’ His eyes hardened. ‘Please don’t insult me by trying to pretend you “pressed the wrong button...”’

Daisy felt the walls of the huge office shrink inwards. In his dark suit, his broad shoulders blocking the light, Rollo Fleming dominated the space around them. But she couldn’t allow him to dominate her. If she did, then the truth would come out and David’s life would be ruined.

She tried to let out her breath without his noticing.

‘You’re not the only one who’s had a long day,’ she retorted. ‘I’ve been on my feet for hours and I’m tired too. Which is why I made a mistake.’

He shook his head.

‘I don’t class breaking and entering as a “mistake.” And I’ll think you’ll find most juries agree with me.’ His face was hard, anger harshening the fine features. ‘So stop prevaricating and tell me why you’re sneaking about in my office at quarter to one in the morning.’

‘I didn’t know it was your office.’ She forced herself to meet his face. ‘How could I? I don’t even know who you are.’

His expression shifted into one of pure disbelief.

‘You’re working downstairs and you don’t know who I am?’

Daisy glowered at him. His derisive tone, coupled with his arrogant and irritatingly correct assumption that she would know who he was, made her see red.

‘I work for lots of people,’ she said stubbornly. ‘I don’t remember all their names and faces.’

Watching his mouth tighten, she felt a stab of satisfaction at having punctured his pride.

There was a long, abrasive silence and then he shrugged. ‘Which is no doubt why you’re just a waitress.’

Her cheeks flooded with heat, his sneer stinging like a slap.

Just a waitress!

‘Don’t patronise me—’ she began furiously.

‘Then don’t lie to me,’ he said softly.

She glared past him, face flushed. ‘Fine. So I know who you are! So what? It makes no difference to me—’

‘Then you are either exceptionally foolish or dangerously foolhardy, because this is my building, and my office. And you shouldn’t be in it.’

His voice scraped against her skin, sending flickers of fear in every direction.

* * *

Watching her face turn pale, Rollo felt his stomach twist.

Beneath her bravado she was scared—maybe she wasn’t the hardened criminal he’d taken her to be.

But she was still guilty.

Guilty of knowing the power of her beauty and guilty of exploiting it to deceive and disarm. He stared at her critically, noting the slight tilt of her chin, the wash of colour on the flawless cheekbones. He’d known women like her before. One in particular, who had thought nothing of lying and manipulating those around her, causing havoc and devastation even as she played the victim.

Daisy had made the biggest mistake of her life if she thought her charms would work on him and, eyes narrowing, he let the silence lengthen until finally, with a mixture of defiance and almost exaggerated casualness, she said, ‘I was curious. I just wanted to have a look around.’

‘I see.’ He loaded his words with sarcasm. ‘And yet you didn’t put on the lights? You must have truly extraordinary night vision.’

Daisy bit her tongue. Already she hated that sneer, the way his eyebrows lifted, and the glitter in that mocking green gaze. Of course, she’d imagined what would happen if she got caught. But in her head she had pictured some bumbling security guard. She certainly hadn’t expected to be grilled by Rollo Fleming himself. The watch’s owner and a man who was demanding an honesty she couldn’t give.

‘I didn’t put the lights on because I thought somebody would see,’ she said quickly.

He was standing too close; the heat and scent of his body was messing with her head so that speaking in sentences was suddenly a struggle.

‘I know this floor is off limits, but I’ve worked here a couple of times and I wanted to see...’

She paused. What could she have possibly—believably—wanted to see in an unlit office?

Blood pounding in her ears, she stared desperately past him at the lit-up skyscrapers—and then her gaze locked on to the Empire State Building.

‘The city. At night,’ she said, her breath juddering in relief. ‘Everyone says the view from up here is amazing, so I thought I’d come and look.’

He stared at her for so long and so hard that she had to clench the muscles in her legs to stop them from giving way.

‘How?’

She blinked. ‘What?’

‘Not what. How? How did you get up to this level? Catering staff only have clearance for the floor they’re working on.’

Daisy swallowed. Keep it simple, she told herself. ‘I don’t know,’ she lied again. ‘I just pressed some buttons.’

Her head was starting to ache, and there was no way she could keep this up for much longer. It was time for a dignified retreat. David would understand, and together they could think of another less humiliating way to return Rollo Fleming’s watch to him.

She breathed out, fighting for calm. ‘Look, Mr Fleming, I’m really sorry I came up here, okay? It was a bad idea—a mistake—and I promise I will never do anything like it again. So if you could just forget I was ever here, I’d be really grateful.’

There was a taut silence as his gaze held hers.

‘Daisy. Pretty name...’ he said quietly.

She could sense he was battling to control his temper.

‘Old-fashioned. Sweet. Decent.’

He smiled—a chilling smile that sent a shiver down her backbone.

‘It’s a pity you don’t live up to it.’

She 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 why she was lying. But he couldn’t deal with all the other lies that were crowding into his head. Lies from the past. Conversations between his parents. His mother darting between stories, swapping truths—

Suddenly he just wanted it over. Wanted her out of his office and out of his life.

Lip curling, he glanced to where she stood, wide-eyed, the pulse in her throat jerking unevenly.

‘I know this looks bad,’ she said haltingly. ‘But I wasn’t doing anything wrong. You have to believe me—’

‘I think we both know it’s a little late for that,’ he said savagely.

He didn’t trust her, and for good reason. Life had taught him at an early age that there was nothing more disingenuous or dangerous than a cornered woman.

But this one wasn’t his problem.

‘I’m tired,’ he said bluntly. ‘And this conversation is over.’

He reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone.

‘What do you mean? Who are you calling? No. Please—’

He felt his stomach soar upwards, snagged by the desperation in her voice even as anger swept over him like lava. Was she really going to keep this up? This pretence that she’d come up here to see the view.

‘I gave you a chance to tell the truth. That you came here to steal from me—’

‘But I didn’t.’ Her voice was husky with emotion. ‘I admit I lied to you. But I swear I’m not a thief.’

He held her gaze. It would be easy to believe her. She sounded so convincing. But then he remembered how she had fought him for the swipe card, with fire—not fear—in her eyes, and glancing at her face he could see tautness—the nervous dread of a skater standing on thin ice, waiting to hear it crack.

But why? What was there left to dread?

His shoulders tensed. And then, as his gaze dropped down to the short black apron, he saw her face freeze. He felt a dizzying anger like vertigo. Slowly he moved in front of her, his powerful body blocking her exit.

‘Prove it. Empty out your pockets,’ he said tersely. ‘Unless you want me to do it for you.’

She shrank away from him, eyes widening with unmistakable guilt, her face pale with shock and uncertainty. ‘Are you threatening me?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said, his voice soft, light, his face sculptured with menace. ‘Do you feel threatened?’

Daisy swallowed. Yes. She did. And not just threatened. Trapped. But how could she do what he asked? If he saw the watch—his watch—there was zero chance of her getting out of the office, let alone the building.

‘I can explain...’ But her words faltered as she realised that she couldn’t.

Rollo stared at her in silence. A sudden vivid memory of his mother saying exactly the same words slid into his head, and he let them echo and fade until he was able to speak.

‘I’m sure you can. But I think I’ve had enough bedtime stories for one evening.’

His words sent a chill through her.

‘Don’t worry though. I’m sure someone else will find them far more entertaining.’ He paused, a cold smile curling his lips. ‘Like my security team. We can go and talk to them right now. They’re downstairs with David—your brother. Waiting to take you both to the police station.’

CHAPTER TWO

DAISY STARED AT him in horror. His words were burning inside her head, so hot and bright she couldn’t think straight. Finally she forced herself to speak.

‘What’s David got to do with any of this?’

But even as the question left her lips, she knew there was no point in pretending any more. There was only one possible explanation for why her brother was with Security.

Rollo knew everything.

The thought made her feel dizzy and she took a quick, shallow breath, trying not to give in to the damp chill sweeping over her skin.

‘You know about...? That David...?’

‘That your brother stole my watch?’

His gaze held hers, the derision in his voice making her cheeks burn.

‘I knew the day he stole it. My office has security cameras. Your brother was caught on film.’

He paused and, looking up, she saw the glittering contempt in his eyes, felt her stomach cramp with fear. He’d known right from the start—before she’d even steeled herself to step into the lift. He’d simply been watching, waiting...

Waiting for her to realise that fact.

All her carefully laid plans had been for nothing. Suddenly she was struggling to hold it together.

‘Please—’

Her voice sounded all wrong, high and breathless, not at all like her voice. But maybe that was because she was no longer Daisy Maddox but some anonymous criminal. The thought made fear crystallise on her skin like ice.

‘Please don’t do this. I know it looks bad. But if you’ll just give me five minutes—’

His eyes narrowed. ‘I think you’ve wasted more than enough of my time already.’

‘But you don’t know the full story,’ she protested.

‘Story? More like fantasy!’ He shook his head. ‘Save it for your lawyers. They’ll be paid to listen to your lies. I’m not.’

His derisive words punched through her panic. The man was a monster! Didn’t he understand what breaking into his office had cost her?

Suddenly her whole body was rigid and vibrating with anger. ‘I might have known someone like you would bring it all back to money,’ she snapped.

‘Someone like me?’ His voice was chillingly cold. ‘You mean a law-abiding citizen?’

She glowered at him. ‘I mean someone without a heart.’

His eyes glinted threateningly beneath the lights. ‘I don’t need a heart to recognise a thief.’

‘David’s not a thief.’ Her head jerked up.

‘So he didn’t steal my watch?’

‘No—I mean yes. But it was a mistake—’

‘I’m sure the prisons are littered with people all saying the same.’

‘No, you don’t understand—’

‘And I don’t want to.’ He frowned at her impatiently. ‘Your brother’s motives are of no interest to me. I’m only concerned with his guilt.’ His gaze didn’t flicker. ‘And yours.’

Daisy stared at him open-mouthed.

‘My guilt!’

His lip curled up impatiently.

‘Look, I may not have a heart, but I do have a brain and I’m not stupid. You didn’t come up here by accident, or to look at the view. You came to see what else you could steal—’

‘No.’ Her voice echoed around the empty office. ‘I did not.’

‘Yes, you did.’ The finality in his voice sent a warning chill through her. ‘As whatever you’ve got stashed in those pockets will no doubt demonstrate when we get downstairs.’

She gazed at him dumbly. Something had just hit her. A way to corroborate her story. Desperately she fumbled inside her apron and pulled out the watch.

‘I didn’t break in here to steal from you,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I came to bring this back.’

If she’d been expecting flags and a parade, she would have been disappointed. Rollo barely glanced at the watch. Instead his eyes were fixed on her face.

‘That proves nothing. Or rather, given that it contradicts everything you’ve just said, it merely confirms that you’re a liar as well as a thief!’

Her hands were trembling. She felt almost giddy with anger. ‘I’m not a thief.’

He shrugged. ‘Unlike some people, I prefer to tell and hear the truth.’

‘In that case you’re a bully.’

‘Is that right?’ His shoulders rose and tensed.

‘Yes, it is. Ever since you walked through that door you’ve done nothing but make threats and try to intimidate me.’

A muscle flickered in his cheek, and then slowly he held out his phone.

‘So call the police,’ he said softly. ‘Go on. Call them.’

Her pulse gave a jerk. She had effectively backed herself into a corner, and he knew it. But watching his green eyes gleam triumphantly, his smug assumption that she would back down, flipped a switch inside her head. Stepping forward, she snatched the phone from his hand.

‘Fine. I will,’ she snarled. ‘At least that way I won’t have to spend any more time with you.’

‘Don’t be so bloody childish.’

There was a tension in his voice she hadn’t heard before.

‘I’m not being childish,’ she snapped. ‘You’re going to call them anyhow, so what does it matter?’

Their eyes locked—hers furiously defiant, his cool, opaque, dispassionate—and then her mouth curved scornfully.

‘Oh, I get it. You wanted to do it. So who’s being childish now?’

There was a small, tight silence.

Rollo took a slow, deep breath. His chest felt hot and taut. Her stubbornness was infuriating, and yet part of him couldn’t help admiring her. She was just so determined to keep fighting him—even to the point of making this crazy kamikaze gesture.

Glancing from her face to her tightly curled hands, he sighed. ‘You don’t want to do that, Daisy,’ he said at last.

‘You don’t know what I want. You don’t know anything about me or David.’

He met her gaze. ‘So tell me.’

Daisy stared at him in silence. Why was he offering her a chance to talk now? More than anything she wanted to hurl it back in his face. But already her anger was fading and picturing her brother waiting, wordless with terror downstairs, she took a shallow breath and lowered the phone.

‘Why?’ she said sulkily. ‘So you can use it against him.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘That depends on what you tell me. To date, all I know about your brother—aside from his penchant for expensive watches—is that he works in Acquisition and Development. And he’s tall and twitchy—’

‘He’s not twitchy. He’s just a bit nervous.’ She spoke defensively and instantly wished she hadn’t as he turned his penetrating, unsettling green gaze on her face.

‘Guilty people often are.’

There was no short or easy way to refute that statement, so instead she satisfied herself with giving him an icy glare.

‘He’s not some criminal mastermind. He’s shy, and he finds it difficult to make friends with people.’

‘He might find it easier if he didn’t steal from them,’ he said smoothly.

‘It was a mistake.’ Her voice rose with exasperation.

‘So you keep saying. But a mistake is when you forget to charge your phone. Not when you purposely steal something that doesn’t belong to you. That’s called theft.’

‘Not always.’ She looked him straight in the eye, her shoulders set high and pushed back as though for battle. ‘Sometimes it’s called “charging market rent.”’

Rollo gritted his teeth. Not in response to her confrontational remark but because he knew that this time she was telling the truth. David Maddox was clearly not a criminal mastermind. Which was why he’d requested a background check instead of just firing him.

It had taken less than half a day for a file to land on his desk, and the research had been thorough—health records, academic results and employment history. And one line noting the existence of a twin sister who also happened to work for the Fleming Organisation’s hospitality team.

Glancing across at her face, he felt his breath suddenly light and loose in his chest; he felt weightless, off balance, as though he’d been drinking. That was all she’d been. A line in a report. A name without a face.

But no words could ever have conveyed Daisy’s beauty and spirit. Or the way her eyes softened when she talked about her brother. Or that tiny crease she got on her forehead when she was digging in her heels.

His fingers twitched and suddenly, more than anything, he wanted to reach out and touch the curve of her cheek, then carry on touching, his fingers sliding over the soft skin of her throat, then lower still, to the swelling curves of her breasts and waist—

He felt his body jerk to life—muscles tightening, groin hardening.

Sitting watching the camera footage of her breaking into his office, he’d thought she was beautiful but greedy—a woman who didn’t believe the rules applied to her. And it had angered him so much that for reasons he didn’t want to examine, he’d broken with protocol and convinced his security team to let him deal with her personally.

Only now here she was, clutching his phone like an amulet to ward off evil, and he couldn’t seem to hold on to his anger. At least not the vindictive, punitive kind. Instead—and he really couldn’t explain why—he felt wound up, and almost irritated by her reckless stupidity.

Had she really thought she could get away with it?

Then she was not only foolhardy but utterly deluded; there was no way he would ever have fallen for her lies.

Except that he would have done.

His muscles tensed as the truth hit him square in the chest: if he hadn’t watched her breaking in he would have believed every word, trusted each hesitant glance. She would have had him eating out of her hand.

The thought should have repelled him, but instead he felt his pulse accelerate, the blood humming inside his head, as slowly, miraculously he realised that maybe—just maybe—he had found a way to change James Dunmore’s mind.

Gazing blandly over at her, he shrugged. ‘Obviously I’d love to hear your views on social housing some other time, but right now I think we should talk about you.’

There was a startled pause. She stared at him suspiciously. ‘Why?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m curious. What do you do when you’re not breaking into offices?’ he said softly.

‘Why do you care?’ she snapped. ‘You’ve clearly made up your mind that David and I are some of kind of Bonnie and Clyde. Nothing I say is going to change that.’

‘Try me,’ he said lazily. ‘I can’t say for sure that it’ll change anything. But what have you got to lose?’

Holding her breath, Daisy watched in mute fascination as he reached up and undid the top button of his shirt, tugging the dark green tie loose to reveal a triangle of sleek golden skin.

Angry, Rollo Fleming was formidable, but she was just starting to realise that anger was not the most effective weapon in his armoury. His charm was far more lethal. And when the chill and distance left his voice he was at his most dangerous.

‘You said earlier you weren’t interested,’ she said stiffly.

‘And you said earlier I didn’t have a heart.’

His gaze rested on her face—cool, unblinking, unreadable—and her own heart skipped a beat.

‘So what are you saying?’

‘I’m giving you an opportunity to redeem yourself. And David, of course.’

Rollo could see she was tempted by his words. He could read the conflict in her eyes, her distrust of him battling with her impulse to protect her brother. He waited, knowing the value of both silence and patience, until finally she sighed.

‘There’s not much to say. I’m twenty-five. I live with my brother, who’s my twin. And I’m a waitress.’ Her eyes flared. ‘Just a waitress. But not through choice. I’m actually an actress, only I’m between jobs at the moment.’

There was a sharp, complicated silence.

‘That’s it.’ She looked up defensively. ‘I told you there wasn’t much.’

Rollo studied her in silence. There was a flush of colour on her cheeks and her eyes were daring him to prove her right.

‘Depends on your definition of “much”,’ he said smoothly. ‘A half-point swing in my commodities portfolio could cost me millions of dollars.’

Daisy stared at him warily. Something was happening around her, silent and unseen.

She narrowed her eyes. ‘What do you want?’

The corners of his mouth curved upwards into a tiny satisfied smile.

‘Let’s just say that I think I’ve found a way for all of us to move on from this unfortunate incident.’

A fresh fear rose up inside her. ‘I’m not going to have sex with you, if that’s what you mean. I’d rather sell my kidneys!’

‘I believe the norm is only one.’ He stared at her impassively, his green gaze colder and harder than any emerald. ‘And don’t flatter yourself, Ms Maddox. I like a woman in handcuffs as much as the next man, but not when the only reason she’s wearing them is because she’s been arrested.’

She bit her tongue. ‘So what do you want, then?’

He scrutinised her for a long moment, almost as though he were trying to see through her or past her. It made her feel taut, trapped—vulnerable, a deer gazing into the headlights of an oncoming car.

Finally he smiled—a smile that tore the breath out of her.

‘I want you to be my wife,’ he said softly.

There was a moment of pure, absolute silence.

She gazed at him in shock, trying to catch up. The last few hours had proved unequivocally that Rollo was a cold-blooded megalomaniac, but now it appeared he was also utterly and irrefutably insane.

‘I’m sorry.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘I think I must have misheard you. I thought you said—’

‘That I want you to be my wife.’ His eyes flickered over her stunned expression. ‘You heard correctly.’

Breathing out unsteadily, she lifted her hand to her forehead, as though to ward off the insanity of his suggestion.

‘What are you talking about?’ she managed.

It must be some kind of trick or trap—another way to make her look stupid and feel small. She stared wildly round the room, hoping to find some explanation. But turning back to meet his gaze she felt a shudder of alarm ripple over her skin.

He was being serious!

She stared at him incredulously.

‘You barely know me. And we hate each other. Why would you want to marry me?’

He paid no attention. ‘Why don’t you sit down and we can talk about it properly?’

He was just like a politician, she thought desperately. Answering a question with a question. Ignoring what he couldn’t answer or didn’t want to discuss.

She opened her mouth to protest but he was already walking past her, and as she watched him take a seat behind the huge glass-topped desk she felt her ribs expand. He looked calm, relaxed, as though he often proposed marriage to young women who broke into his office in the early hours of the morning. But his eyes were alert and predatory, like a wolf watching a lamb stumble around in its lair.

‘Come on. Sit down. I don’t bite.’

It wasn’t an invitation. It wasn’t even an order. It was a dare.

She lifted her chin.

‘Fine. But I can’t see what difference talking will make. Nobody marries a complete stranger.’

Sinking into the soft leather, she felt the tiredness of the last few hours rise up beneath her skin in a wave as, lounging back in his seat, he stared past her, in a way that suggested he was pondering some deep philosophical question.

‘Is that true? Plenty of brides all over the world only meet their husband on their wedding days.’

‘Yes. If they’re having an arranged marriage.’ She glowered at him.

‘But we are.’ He smiled a smile that made her wish that his chair would open up and swallow him whole. ‘And I’m arranging it.’

Daisy felt her skin grow warm; her head was spinning. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not arranging anything,’ she snapped. ‘Look, you can’t want to marry me, so why are you pretending you do?’ She stared at him doubtfully. ‘Is it your idea of a joke? Some way to punish me for...?’

Looking up at him, she felt her words falter in her mouth. For an endless moment he studied her in silence and then, leaning forward, he fixed his eyes on hers with an intentness that seared her skin.

‘If I wanted to punish you, I’d think of something a lot more...diverting.’

Her stomach clenched, and a tingling excitement swept through her like fire through a forest as he smiled slowly.

‘For both of us.’

A hot shiver ran up her spine and she stared at him mutely, her body stilling even as chaos raged inside. Her heart was beating too fast and too loud, and a dark ache was swirling over her skin like a riptide. In an effort to break the spell of his gaze, she pressed her nails hard into the palms of her hands.

‘You can’t just tell someone you’re marrying them,’ she said carefully. ‘It doesn’t work like that.’

The tension in the room quivered, as though she had somehow pressed her foot onto an accelerator pedal, and her eyes flickered involuntarily across to where Rollo sat, examining her with detached curiosity.

‘It does if you want your brother to keep his job. And, more important, to stay out of prison.’

She was out of her seat and leaning across his desk before she had even realised she was moving, her whole body shaking with shock and anger.

‘You unspeakable pig!’ Her voice rose. ‘That’s blackmail—’

‘Yes, it is.’

He wasn’t even embarrassed! Furiously, she glanced around for something blunt and heavy.

‘Why are you getting so bent out of shape about this?’ He stared at her calmly.

‘Why? Why? Maybe because it’s weird and wrong.’ Heat was blistering her skin. She couldn’t keep the shake out of her voice. ‘You’re cynically exploiting this situation for your own ends.’

He frowned. ‘You’re being melodramatic. You and I marrying will be mutually beneficial. As to the morality of blackmailing a thief and a liar, I’m not sure we have time to tackle that right now, so why don’t you just calm down and sit down?’

He lifted his arms behind his head and stretched out his shoulders.

‘Sit down,’ he said again, and this time there was no mistaking the authority in his voice. ‘I didn’t explain myself properly. I need to marry you, but in essence you’ll just be playing the part of my wife.’

She felt a rush of hope. ‘You mean like in an advert or something? For your business?’ He stared at her in silence.

‘No. Not like an advert. We’re going to have to marry legally.’

Daisy searched his face, looking for answers, for a way to escape the certainty in his voice. ‘Why can’t we just pretend?’

He shook his head slowly. ‘That won’t work. It can’t just look like we’re married. It has to be legal.’

‘But no one needs a wife that badly,’ she said almost viciously. ‘Not at two o’clock in the morning.’

He shrugged. ‘I do.’

‘But why?’

‘That doesn’t concern you.’ The certainty in his voice had hardened to granite.

She stared at him, sensing that somewhere a door was closing, a key was turning. Soon there would be no way out of this mess.

She felt her temper flare. ‘Fine. But I’m not marrying anyone—especially you—unless you tell me why you need a wife.’

It wasn’t just curiosity. She needed to assert herself. Needed him to know that she wasn’t just some puppet on a string.

She folded her arms in front of her chest. ‘I don’t need details. Just keep it short and simple.’

She held her breath as his eyes narrowed into knifepoints, and she knew he was gauging how much he needed to tell her. Finally he shrugged and met her gaze, cool and back in control again.

‘I’m trying to close a deal. For a building I want to buy. The owner is old-fashioned...sentimental. He’ll only sell to someone he trusts. Someone he believes shares his values. I need him to trust me and for that to happen he needs to see my warmer, softer side. Marriage is the simplest way to demonstrate that to him.’

She breathed out slowly. There was a kind of warped logic to his argument.

‘But surely I can’t be your only solution? What if you hadn’t found me in your office? What would you do then?’

His eyes were watching hers. ‘But I did find you. And you’re perfect.’

Her heart thudded against her ribs and she felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘I—I am?’

Rollo felt his groin grow hard, his body responding not only to her tentative question but to the flush of colour in her cheeks, the pulse jerking at the base of her throat. She was like a flint striking, sparking against him, catching fire.

And fire burned.

Ignoring the twitch of lust in his groin, he breathed out slowly. ‘Yes. You’re single. And you’re an actress. But primarily, and most important, I can trust you to be compliant.’

Daisy knew she had gone white.

‘Compliant?’ Her hands were trembling.

‘Out-of-work actresses are ten a penny. But I need someone I can depend on. And as your brother’s freedom and future are in my hands I’m confident I can rely completely on your discretion.’

He sounded so calm and controlled that she thought she might throw up. Was this how people got to the top in business? By turning every situation to their advantage no matter what the collateral damage?

‘But, of course, if you’d rather take your chances with the police...’

He let his sentence drift off as Daisy stared past him. She felt bruised, battered and beaten.

‘How long would it be for?’ she said dully.

‘A year. Then we’d go our separate ways and the slate would be wiped clean.’

She flinched inside. He made it sound so simple. The perfectly packaged, one-use-only relationship. An entirely disposable marriage. And maybe it was that simple for him, for clearly his brain worked in an entirely different way from hers.

Her heart contracted. But it was so different from the marriage she’d always imagined. Given her failed romantic history, she knew she was more likely to win a starring role on Broadway, but what she wanted was a relationship based on love and trust and honesty. Just like her parents’.

Only that was the polar opposite of what she and Rollo would have if she agreed to this stupid fake marriage.

The thought made her feel utterly alone.

Pushing back her shoulders, she lifted her head, a flare of defiance sparking inside her. ‘And you’re okay with that?’ she asked flatly. ‘It’s how you always imagined your marriage?’

Leaning back, Rollo swivelled his chair to face the window. He knew that her question was more or less rhetorical. But the blood was beating in his veins with swift, hot, unreasonable fury.

For a moment he gazed out across the city, silently battling the sickening panic and feeling of helplessness stirred up by their conversation. The short, expurgated answer was no—it wasn’t the way he’d imagined his marriage. Not because it would be fake and devoid of feeling, but because he had never once imagined being married at all.

Why would he? He knew for a fact that people weren’t capable of being satisfied with just one partner. And he certainly didn’t believe marriage represented love or devotion.

His mother’s behaviour had proved that to him over and over again, slowly destroying their family and his father in the process.

But marriage to Daisy would be altogether different, he reassured himself. It would be carefully controlled by him and there would be no risk of pain or humiliation, for that would require an emotional dependency that would be absent from their relationship. In fact, their lives need only really intertwine in public.

Feeling calmer, he turned to face her.

‘I can’t say I’ve expended much mental energy on the matter. Personally, I’ve never seen the point of making such an emotionally charged and unrealistic commitment to somebody.’

Daisy glared at him. ‘How romantic! Do you say that to all the women you date or just the ones you blackmail?’

He stared at her impassively, but his eyes had darkened in a way that made the breath jam in her throat.

‘I never promise anything to anyone I date,’ he said, his eyes lingering on her face. ‘But you don’t need to worry on their account. They want what I want. They’re independent women who enjoy having sex. With me. And I can assure you they’re perfectly satisfied with the arrangement.’

Daisy caught her breath.

‘I’ll just have to take your word for that,’ she said tautly. ‘And, just so we’re clear, if I do become your wife, I’ll play my part in public but our relationship will not extend to the bedroom. You can satisfy yourself in private.’

Watching the hard flare of anger in his eyes, she felt a sudden spasm of hope. Rollo might have arrogantly assumed he could conjure up a marriage between two strangers—strangers who despised one another—but clearly he hadn’t thought everything through.

So maybe it still wasn’t too late to change his mind.

Folding her arms in front of her chest, she tried to replicate the cool, flat expression that was back in place on his face.

‘Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but are you really sure we can pull this off? Think about it. We’re complete strangers. And we’re never going to have sex. So just how are we going to fool everyone into thinking we’re some loved-up couple who can’t keep their hands off one another?’

She felt her stomach twist. It was a perfect description of her dream relationship. The one she had tried so hard—and failed—to create with each and every one of her boyfriends.

‘I don’t think that’ll be a problem.’

His words bumped into her thoughts and her pulse jerked as abruptly he got to his feet, his body disturbingly, powerfully muscular and male in the confines of his office.

‘Then I think you’re being really naive,’ she said with more confidence than she felt as he walked slowly around the desk towards her. ‘I could probably pull it off. In public at least. But I’m a trained actress. What you’re asking is not as easy as it looks. Think of all those films that bomb at the box office because the two leads don’t have any chemistry—’

She broke off as he stopped in front of her and held out his hand.

‘We need to leave,’ he said quietly. ‘The security teams will be changing shift soon, and I think we’ve both answered enough awkward questions already tonight.’

Ignoring his hand, she stood up—but instantly she regretted it, for suddenly they were facing one another, only inches apart. Gazing up at him, she felt her skin grow tight and hot.

‘What were we talking about?’ he said softly. ‘Oh, yes. Our chemistry.’

‘It’s just not there,’ she said hastily, trying not to breathe in the clean, masculine smell of his body. ‘And, believe me, you can’t just manufacture it for the cameras. It has to be real.’

Rollo let a silence build between them. He wondered if she realised that her body was contradicting her words. That her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted invitingly.

Scrutinising her face, he frowned. ‘Well, this thing won’t work unless we can convince people.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I wonder... How would we test it? If this was a real acting job, I mean.’

Her eyes froze midblink. ‘I suppose we’d do an audition.’

Taking a step closer, he smiled a small, dispassionate smile. ‘What a good idea...’ he murmured.

And slowly he lowered his head and kissed her on the lips.

For a fraction of a second he felt her tense against him, and then her mouth softened under his and she was kissing him back...

Daisy curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. She knew she should be repelled by his touch. He was her enemy, a bully and a blackmailer. But instead she felt her body catch fire as he deepened the kiss, his mouth suddenly fierce against hers.

A shock—sharp, raw and electric—ran over her skin and her body jerked against his, her hands coming up to grip his arms, her nails cutting into the muscle. She felt him respond, heard the quickening of his breath, felt her own breath stalling in her throat as he arched her body, tipping her head up to meet his—

And then suddenly he lifted his mouth and breathed out softly.

‘What was it you said? Oh, that’s right. It has to be real.’ His lips curved upwards and he stroked a strand of hair away from her face. ‘I’d say that was pretty damn real.’

There was no mistaking the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

Daisy stared at him dazedly. Her heart was slamming into her ribcage. With shock and more than a little embarrassment she realised that her fingers were still wrapped around his arm and slowly, cautiously, not wanting to draw attention to the fact, she lifted her hand.

He watched her calmly. ‘So... Last chance. What’s it to be? Me? Or the police?’

Daisy flinched. The bluntness of his question was like a punch to the jaw. If it had been just her, she wouldn’t have hesitated. She would have turned him down right there and then. He was ruthless and cold-blooded. The relationship he was suggesting would be a travesty of everything she believed. Why, then, was she considering marrying a man she hated with whom she would share nothing but a lie?

Because it wasn’t just about her. There were other people to consider. Not just David but her parents too.

Before she could change her mind, she met his gaze and said quickly, ‘You.’

He smiled a small triumphant smile that made panic trickle over her skin, cold and damp like rain. She was too ashamed of herself to care. Too ashamed that her decision had been made not solely out of love and loyalty but because being with Rollo would mean that, just for a while, she could forget Daisy Maddox and her hopeless dreams of true love. Because right now finding the right man was a whole lot scarier than the thought of faking it with the wrong one.

‘Good. Then we should leave.’

‘I want to see David—’

He shook his head. ‘Another time. He needs to go home.’ His eyes met hers—clear, green, assessing. ‘And you need to come with me. To the Upper East Side,’ he said lazily. ‘Your home for the next twelve months.’

Home! The word sounded so warm and friendly. Daisy bit her lip. It seemed unlikely, but maybe Rollo really did have a softer, warmer side. And silently she prayed that he did. Otherwise she was going to spend the next twelve months feeling like an inmate at the world’s most exclusive prison.

CHAPTER THREE

I AM SO not ready for this, Daisy thought as just over an hour later she followed Rollo into the hallway of his penthouse on Park Avenue.

Everything was moving so fast.

Waiting in the lift, she’d half thought that the whole crazy plan might just dissolve in the face of reality. But Rollo had overseen all the arrangements with a quiet, indisputable authority. David had been escorted home and told to take a few days’ leave. Daisy’s absence had been explained by a hastily concocted plan involving a last-minute callback for a part at a theatre in Philadelphia.

Within minutes of agreeing to become his wife it felt as though time had sped up exponentially, so that one moment she’d been standing in his office and the next she’d been sitting in a sleek black limousine, moving smoothly through traffic towards the Upper East Side.

She might have started to panic sooner, only she had been so distracted by how it had felt when he’d kissed her that she had barely registered the journey. Instead she had simply sat in silence, replaying the moment when his lips had touched hers.

Gazing up, she felt her heartbeat slow. In his office she had just been grateful that Rollo had not called the police. But now that her panic had gone and she was standing in a hallway roughly the same size as David’s entire apartment she felt the same mixture of shock and doubt as an astronaut crash-landing on a strange alien planet.

It didn’t feel real. It certainly didn’t feel like her life anymore.

In front of her a huge chandelier made of crystal droplets cascaded down like a waterfall into the centre of the marble floor, while on the far side of the hallway a staircase wide enough for a car rose gracefully up to a galleried landing. But what drew her attention most were the three vast contemporary canvases on the walls.

Gazing at the one nearest, she frowned. It looked familiar...

‘It’s a Pollock. One of his earlier works.’

Her pulse jolted forward like a startled deer. Engrossed by her new surroundings, she had completely forgotten that Rollo was there. But her shock was quickly supplanted as his words registered on her brain.

A Pollock! Rollo owned an actual Jackson Pollock.

The thought blew her mind.

Theoretically, she knew he was rich, but this was a real work of art—the sort that fetched millions at auction. And it was in his hallway.

Hoping she didn’t look as gauche as she felt, she nodded nonchalantly. ‘David loves his paintings.’

‘Personally I find them a little busy. But these...’ he gestured casually towards the walls ‘...weren’t my choice anyway. My curator picked them. He thinks they have the greatest potential to rise in value.’

Tearing her eyes away from the paintings, Daisy frowned. ‘And that’s what matters, is it? That they make you money? Not that they give you pleasure?’

His eyes roamed lazily over her face in a way that made her squirm inside. ‘I find they’re usually one and the same thing. Shall we go in?’

Staring past him stonily, she took a shallow breath and nodded slowly.

Moments later, she felt her jaw drop as she walked into the open-plan living area.

The room was enormous.

But it wasn’t just the size of it that made her eyes widen. It was the opulence oozing from every corner. Glancing sideways, she noticed a beautiful oil painting of a woman gazing dazedly upwards at a colonnaded ruin. She looked mythical, possibly Greek or Roman. Maybe she had just stumbled across the place where the gods lived. If so, Daisy knew exactly how she felt.

‘Welcome to your new home,’ Rollo said softly. ‘I won’t give you the guided tour now, but this is obviously the living room and the kitchen is over there. In case you get hungry in the night.’

She could feel him watching her, gauging her reaction, but she barely noticed. Eyes flitting nervously around the room, she was trying to remember exactly why she’d agreed to move in with him.

It had seemed to make sense earlier. Move in, spend some time getting to know one another and then announce their engagement.

But what the hell had she been thinking? She couldn’t imagine living in this apartment, let alone living in it with Rollo, pretending to be his wife.

As though reading her thoughts, he shrugged his jacket off and, throwing it carelessly onto a huge cream leather sofa, met her gaze.

‘You’ll get used to it.’

‘Will I?’

She glanced around nervously. Everything was so big and bright. As usual, after the end of a shift, she had changed into her own clothes. But her comfortable jeans and baggy sweatshirt made her feel as though she had shrunk. If she stayed, she might disappear altogether.

‘I should imagine so—’ he paused, his expression coolly assessing ‘—if you want to keep your brother out of prison.’

It was like a sudden icy shower.

Instantly her fear and doubt evaporated, replaced by a blinding flash of anger. ‘You really are a bastard,’ she said shakily. ‘Why would you even say that? I’ve said I’ll do this and I will. Just leave David out of it.’

Her muscles were quivering. He’d just blackmailed her into being his wife. That wasn’t normal and he knew it. Hell, he’d even admitted it back in his office. So why was he acting as though she was overreacting? As though she was making a big deal out of nothing?

She shook her head.

‘I don’t understand you. Doesn’t this bother you in any way? That we’re going to have to lie? And keep on lying to so many people? And not just tell lies but live a lie too?’

He raised his eyebrows in the way that she now knew preceded one of his hateful, mocking remarks.

‘You’ve spent all evening lying to me, Daisy. A few more months won’t make that much difference.’

Their eyes clashed. She swallowed hard, feeling trapped, hating him for the way he twisted everything to make her sound like the villain.

‘Don’t you have any compassion?’

‘Generally, yes. Specifically for you, no. You brought this upon yourself. You and your brother, that is. Besides, quite frankly, lies or no lies, I find it difficult to believe that living in a triplex apartment in Manhattan is going to be that much of a hardship for you.’

‘If you say so,’ she said stiffly.

It was clear she was wasting her time. She might be struggling with the decision they had made, but clearly Rollo was immune to the concept of guilt. And she couldn’t keep challenging him all night. Not without anger anyway, and her anger was fading, the adrenaline draining away like bathwater, so that she was suddenly too tired to argue.

‘Do you mind if I sit down?’ Without waiting for a reply she dropped onto the nearest sofa, stifling a yawn. ‘Is there anything else? If not, I’d like to have a hot shower and go to bed.’

Bed!

Rollo felt the word tug at his senses like a kite on a string. It was just three little letters...a place to sleep. But spoken by Daisy in that husky voice it seemed to hint at tangled sheets and bodies moving slowly in the half-light.

Glancing over to where she sat, leaning back against the cushions, he felt his body stiffen in immediate painful response. She was looking up at him with those dark espresso-coloured eyes—eyes that somehow managed to look sleepy yet seductive at the same time.

He gritted his teeth. In his office he’d thought she was beautiful, but now, dressed casually, her legs curling against the leather of the sofa, she looked sexier than any woman he’d ever seen.

Maybe it was the curve of her bottom beneath the tight denim, or the glimpse of bare skin where her oversized sweatshirt was slipping off her shoulder.

The bare skin she would soon be soaping upstairs in the shower.

The thought of her standing naked, water dribbling over her body, was so tantalising that he could suddenly hardly breathe and, swallowing hard, he turned to where a faint pinkish glow through the windows indicated that night was turning to day.

Daisy’s desirability was undeniable. But this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to get what he wanted from James Dunmore. He must be careful not to get distracted by her beauty and her sexual allure.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head. ‘No. There’s nothing. Everything else can wait...’ he glanced round ‘...until morning,’ he finished slowly.

Daisy was asleep, lying on her side, one arm curled under her head like a cat. For a moment he watched her in silence, seeing her as though for the first time—a younger, more vulnerable Daisy. Someone who needed protecting.

The thought needled him, lodging beneath his ribs like a thorn. Why wasn’t anyone looking out for her? Her family, her brother, her parents? It made him feel angry all over again only in a different way—angry that she was there on his sofa. That somehow she was now his responsibility.

Responsibility. The word snagged in his throat like a fish bone. Feeling responsible hadn’t been part of the equation when he’d come up with the idea of marrying Daisy. It made him feel tense, with its implication of commitment, that somehow there was a bond between them.

Frowning, he ran a hand wearily over his jaw, feeling the scrape of stubble against his fingertips. But was it really such a big deal? All business transactions needed a bond to function. And that was all this was. A transaction. All the rest was just tiredness making him paranoid.

Sighing, he leaned forward, picked up his jacket and gently draped it over her shoulder. She shifted in her sleep, murmuring, fingers splaying apart, and he held his breath. But she didn’t wake and finally, after one last look, he turned and walked slowly away.

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