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When Adrian Walsh closed down his Internet connection, over half an hour later, he sat back in his office chair and said her name aloud.
“Lily.” It had a distinctly feminine and yet wistful sound and that reflected his impression of her. He’d played in the chat rooms before. It was like sport to him, nothing serious. The quick get-off, the sexy distraction that was right there at his fingertips after a long day in the office. He didn’t really care who he chatted with, he just enjoyed the anonymity of chatting about sex on line.
Then L had captured his attention in a different way. Her words had conveyed each breathless self-discovery as she unfolded herself and her fantasies to him. Perhaps he was more of a voyeur than he’d realised, he thought, wryly mused. Mostly he felt that it was special. The way she’d expressed herself, it didn’t seem like she did that all the time. But maybe she did, and he was flattering himself.
Meeting might be a disaster, but what was life without a few risks?
He’d tried to put at her ease by inviting her to his office for their initial meet. A public place showed he had nothing to hide. He wanted her to be chilled with the set up, or she might not even turn up. The need to find out what she was really like had a hold of him these past few days, and he’d felt the urge to edge it forward. She’d bitten. Not immediately, but he’d have put money on the fact she would, eventually.
He smiled to himself and glanced over the paperwork on his desk. The smile quickly faded. The other main thing occupying his mind confronted him, the Carlisle account. He lifted his notes from the front of the file, then sighed and put them down again. He stood up, walking over to the window that looked out over London’s business district.
The January sky was ominous, laden with cloud. The city streetlights illuminated it oddly. He’d been here in his own offices a year, and he was doing well. But now he was in a corner. He’d made a stupid, uninformed agreement when he’d taken on this client. Carlisle was wealthy, and he’d offered him incentives to ‘tidy up‘ his accounts. Adrian had done something similar for an associate, Carlisle had said. Well, yes, he’d worked figures favourably to avoid the taxman for another client, but this was altogether different, and it was way out of his league.
He’d foolishly agreed to the terms, without asking around about Carlisle’s business interests. Now he knew why the incentive had looked so juicy. It wasn’t just that Carlisle wanted a rush job. Something was badly wrong there, and he wished he’d never touched it.
He’d been over-ambitious, taken on a dodgy client without thinking it through, and now his conscience wouldn’t let him go ahead. Damn Catholic upbringing, it always seemed to force him to do the right thing. He didn’t like feeling trapped and he knew that he was going to have to do something about it. There was only one option, to turn the file over to the police. Even if it meant hellfire rained down on his head, which—judging from what he’d discovered in the paperwork—was quite possible.
He’d been brooding over it when Lily logged in that evening and she’d been a very welcome distraction. But now she was gone and Adrian had to face up to it. He had to go to the police, whether he liked it or not.
Chapter Two
The elevator jolted to a halt. When the doors slid open, Lily’s stomach flipped. Her legs felt weak. Five days she’d had to get used to the idea of meeting Adrian, and yet her emotions were all over the place. Her more animal instincts had kept her anticipation at a constant high, fuelled by the idea of live action instead of anonymous stimulation. At the same time, she couldn’t quite believe she would soon be face to face with the man she’d been having a virtual sexual relationship with. The two opposing reactions had her in a state of turmoil.
The day had finally dawned and she’d made it this far. She’d even braved the slush-covered January streets in a fancy outfit and heels to meet Mr. Adrian Walsh at his office.
She moved, bumping into the only other occupant of the elevator, a man who was trying to leave at the same time as she was. He was tall, and his fair hair flashed out as he shot her an annoyed look, cold blue eyes scanning her.
“Sorry,” she said, and paused as he pushed past her and exited, turning immediately left. People jostled into the elevator, office workers intent on leaving the building at the end of the day. One of the women put her hand on a button on the panel and kept it there while the others piled in. Jolting into action, Lily squeezed through the crowd and hurried out into the corridor.
Facing her was a large stainless steel board mounted on the wall. It listed the occupants of the suites on the 16th floor. Glancing left and right, she noticed how up-market the place was. Polished marble tiles ran the length of the corridor, inscribed steel plaques gleaming on the doors. She still couldn’t believe that he was an accountant, a man with his own suite of offices in the heart of London. He’d suggested meeting here, assuring her this was a busy place and there were lots of other people around, which there were. Adrian clearly had a reputation to keep, which was also reassuring.
Scanning the board, she smoothed down the close fitting top and skirt that her flat mate, Andrea, had insisted she borrow, and pulled her thigh-length leather coat closer around her.
Adrian’s office was in Suite 16K
. The sign indicated that she should turn left. She took a deep breath and forced herself in that direction, resisting the urge to go back to the elevator and disappear into the departing crowd. She wanted to know; she had to find out. If it didn’t work…her stomach tightened at the idea of it. It would be awkward, especially after all that they had revealed to each other. That was the worst part.
Glancing at the various company names as she passed the offices, she estimated Suite 16K
was the last door on the right. The rude man from the elevator was ahead of her, and he seemed to be headed in the same direction.
Her footsteps slowed.
What if that was him? What if the man with the cold blue eyes was Adrian? Just as the thought occurred to her, the man glanced back over his shoulder and looked directly at her, his eyes narrowing.
He was built large and brutish, and dressed in dark clothing. She didn’t think he looked like an accountant. Adrian’s easy, sexy, and direct chat had reminded her of a barman she’d met on holiday, the sort of bloke who put women at their ease immediately. That was how she had been picturing him, working a bar in the city. She’d never have guessed he was an accountant. What did an accountant even look like, anyway? She hadn’t a clue. Andrea’s aunt did their paperwork for the Sandwich Boutique.
The sudden wave of uncertainty sent a shiver through her. The man ahead was moving quickly and had passed the last door on the corridor. That was weird. Where was he going? As she gained on him she felt increasingly uneasy. Drawing to a halt, she paused outside a random door. Perhaps he was lurking around to check her out as she arrived. If it turned out that he was Adrian, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go ahead with the date. He had a cold look about him that creeped her out.
What the hell was she getting into, she thought, feeling panicked. When the man turned back again she looked away and put her hand on a door handle for suite 16J
, grappling for cover while she cautiously watched him from the periphery of her vision.
With one last glance back over his shoulder, the man stepped over to the window at the end of the corridor, opened it, and climbed out onto the fire escape.
Maintenance man, not accountant.
