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“We’ll see. Right now, I want your exact location. And I’d like a phone number other than your cell. Is that too much to ask?”

As she studied Max, he released her momentarily, unlocked the door and walked through his office to his desk. When he came back, he carried a letterhead. Erin quickly read the printed information to her mother.

Erin could tell her mom was frantically writing down the information before the older woman said, “Okay, I’ve got it. But just so you know, just to make sure this man is on the up and up, I’m calling Damian.”

At the name of her oldest brother, Max’s eyes lit up as if pleased and Erin felt her stomach drop. So, his revenge was about to begin. “Whatever you need to do to feel better about this, Mom. That’s fine.”

“That’s exactly what I want to do. Please be safe and take care. And stay in touch so I don’t freak out!”

“I will. Love you.”

“I love you, too, baby. Talk to you soon.”

After she’d disconnected the call, Max slowly released her and walked back to his desk. She followed him into the outer office and moved closer to the door and to her escape. He shifted a stack of papers and without glancing at her, he said, “You did well.”

“What choice did I have?”

“You had a choice and you made it.”

“How did you know that I’d—” she searched for the correct word, “concede? How did you know that I wouldn’t tell my mom why you’re holding me here?”

“Because I’m not holding you here—you can leave anytime you want. We’ve already gone over this, Erin, but since you’ve chosen this course, it would only make sense that you wouldn’t want your family to worry. You love them—I’ve known that since before we met. If you didn’t feel a great deal for them, this wouldn’t work.”

Once again, Erin couldn’t help but feel that he wasn’t telling her the truth; she knew she was playing into his hands. She highly doubted that he’d just let her leave—no, he was manipulating her into thinking she had a choice. His scheme was too flimsy, it didn’t make sense. If she had an ounce of brainpower in her head, she’d demand to leave at once. But what if he wouldn’t let her go home? How bad would it be then? Showing her where he kept her passport truthfully meant little, as he probably damn well knew. It wasn’t as if she could walk to Buenos Aires. She had to act as if she had a choice in all of this—if she didn’t, they’d be pitted against each other to such an extreme that the ramifications of that seemed like a nightmare to her. Once again, she shut her thought process down because it didn’t bear thinking about. She didn’t want to know—not now—not yet.

When she stood too long in indecision, he rounded his desk until he was standing in front of her once again. “You’re thinking too hard about this. Stop doing that,” he hissed.

****

Chapter Seven

Max reached out for her but Erin scooted back. Even as she told herself to keep her lips sealed, that she didn’t want to know, she did just the opposite. “You’re bluffing. You don’t have anything on the corporation. You don’t have any leverage—you couldn’t. My brothers are too decent, too smart, too astute. They don’t carry debt—they’re not publicly traded. You’re bluffing—I’m going home.”

“Yeah? You want an example of what I can do to them?” His features hardened as his lips firmed into a sneer. “Before you jump on a plane, why don’t you ask about the Houston property they’ve been wanting so badly—do you know which acquisition I’m talking about?”

Suddenly feeling a cold chill run down her spine, Erin stilled. He could only be referring to one parcel of land—a very important parcel. “The hundred-acre tract on the Grand Parkway?” she asked. “Courtney already has a contract. It’s a done deal.”

“You’re wrong.”

Wrong? She couldn’t be wrong. She knew how the Rule Corporation operated, leaving nothing untouched, nothing to chance . . . but if what he was telling her was true, Max Villarreal was a force to be reckoned with. An opponent she needed to tread even more carefully around.

As they stared at each other in the escalating silence, her phone began ringing. Damian’s name blinking on the screen sent her nerves skyrocketing. “It’s Damian.”

“What did you expect?” Max sneered.

“What do you want me to say to him?”

“I’d be thrilled if you’d tell him that I’m holding you hostage. That you’re even now tied spread-eagled to my bed—face down—but I’m sure you’ll not want to upset him.” As if dismissing her, he walked to his desk and opened his laptop. Seemingly unconcerned and concentrating only on the screen, he said, “Truly Erin, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you say to him. He’s not my business anymore—you are.”

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