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Blast him.
They climbed the back staircase without a word. His silent, indomitable presence starting to rattle her. How could he be so relaxed, so unmoved?
She cut the thought off. Of course he could be. What had happened in his bedroom all those years ago had never meant a thing to him. She pushed the residual flicker of hurt away, clinging to being businesslike and efficient. If he could be, so could she.
But even as the rallying cry sounded in her head he opened his bedroom door, and she had to brace herself against the painful memories. She caught his scent, that dizzying combination of soap and man, more potent this time without the masking hint of tobacco, as he held the door for her to walk in ahead of him.
Colour flooded up her neck as she stepped into the room where he had once stolen her innocence. And destroyed her dreams.
The walls were painted utilitarian white now, the bed a brand-new teak frame draped with pale blue linen, but the memories were all still there, as vivid and disturbing as yesterday. She could see herself kneeling on the bed, the sheet clutched to her chest, her heart shattering.
‘So what exactly is it that’s so important?’
She whirled round to see him leaning against the door, his arms folded over his chest, his expression indifferent. She held the briefcase in front of her, tried to control the rush of emotions. He was goading her deliberately. She had no idea why, but she wasn’t going to let it mean anything.
‘You offered me money. A week ago.’
His brows arrowed up. Seemed she’d surprised him at last.
‘I wanted to know if the offer’s still open,’ she added.
‘You came here to ask me for money?’
She heard the brittle edge and took a perverse pleasure in it. Good to know she could rattle him too.
‘That’s correct.’
‘Well, now,’ he said, pushing away from the door and strolling towards her. ‘So what happened to the woman who has principles and wouldn’t dare lower herself to take anything from me?’
He stopped in front of her, standing so close she could feel the heat of his body.
‘It was you who said that? Wasn’t it?’
‘I apologise for that.’ She lifted her chin to meet his gaze, refusing to take a step back. She knew perfectly well he was trying to intimidate her. She should never have said those stupid things, but he had provoked her. ‘But I didn’t think you cared what I thought,’ she finished, knowing perfectly well her comments hadn’t bothered him in the slightest.
He ran a
finger down her cheek and she stiffened, shocking desire coiling in her gut at the unexpected touch.
‘You’d be surprised what I care about,’ he murmured.
She stepped back. Forced into retreat after all. How was he still able to fan the flames so easily?
‘I should go,’ she said hastily, her courage suddenly deserting her.
What on earth had possessed her to come here? He would never give her the money. All she’d done was humiliate herself for no reason.
But as she tried to step around him and make a dash for the door he grasped her upper arm.
‘So it wasn’t that important?’ he said, a challenging glint in his eyes.
Spurred on by desperation and an unreasonable panic, her temper snapped. She yanked her arm out of his grasp. This wasn’t a game. Not to her anyway. ‘It was important. Not that you’d ever understand.’
She’d always been willing to fight for what she believed in. He’d never once done that. Because he’d never believed in anything.
He laughed, the sound harsh. ‘Why don’t you show me, then?’ Holding both her arms, he hauled her closer. ‘If you want the money so much, what do I get in return?’
‘What do you want?’ She hurled the words at him, angry, upset, and—God help her—desperately turned on.
