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‘May I come in?’ He took a step towards her and she drew her breath in sharply, one hand fluttering to her throat.
‘Don’t—’ she began, and he stilled. She almost looked afraid. Afraid of him.
‘Do you think I’m going to hurt you?’ he asked, wondering why he was surprised. Everyone else had believed the worst of him. Why shouldn’t she?
Emma’s eyes widened, her hand still at her throat. ‘I don’t—I don’t know. Why are you here, Larenzo?’
Her voice wavered; she really was afraid. She thought he was dangerous. It should have occurred to him before, of course. He’d thought all of his naive delusions about humanity had been stripped away, but clearly he’d clung to this last one. The memory of his one night with Emma had sustained him through prison. He didn’t like having it tarnished now.
‘I’m here,’ he finally said, his voice cool, ‘because I felt I owed you something.’
‘You don’t.’
‘Considering your employment with me ended so abruptly, I thought you deserved some recompense,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
‘Recompense...’
He stepped past her and dropped the envelope with the bank draft onto the hall table. ‘Six months’ pay. I thought you should have it.’
She stared at the envelope with something like revulsion. ‘I don’t want your money,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I don’t want anything from you.’
‘This money was honestly earned,’ Larenzo informed her coldly. ‘I can promise you that.’
‘Why should I believe anything you say?’ she shot back. ‘How are you even here? The judge gave you life in prison—’
‘I was released last week. Clearly you don’t read the papers.’
‘No, I...’ She licked her lips, her gaze still wide. ‘I haven’t had time.’
‘Well, if you’d read them,’ Larenzo said, his voice coming out in a cold drawl, ‘you would have known that all the charges against me were dropped.’
‘They were?’ She looked bewildered, her gaze darting between him and the stairs. Was she thinking of making a run for it, barricading herself in a bedroom? Did she really think he was going to hurt her? He was caught between fury and despair at the thought, and then he blanked out both emotions. He might have held onto the memory of Emma through prison, and their night together might have compelled him to find her now, but he didn’t actually feel anything for her. He couldn’t feel anything at all.
‘Yes, they were. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Obviously. Unless you thought I’d escaped?’ He arched an eyebrow, smiled as if this were all so very amusing. ‘Stage-managed some sort of breakout?’
‘I...I don’t know what I think.’ She walked slowly past him, to the small sitting room at the front of the house. Larenzo followed her, watched as she sank onto the sofa, her head in her hands.
‘How did you find me here?’ she asked after a long, silent moment, her head still bowed.
‘This was the address you gave on your employment application.’
She glanced up at him, her eyes widening once more. ‘And you came all the way to America to give me six months’ pay? If you really possessed such a conscience to see me adequately recompensed, you could have just deposited it in my bank account. You should have my details from when I was in your employment.’
Larenzo’s mouth tightened. ‘I was in America anyway.’ She shook her head slowly, still dazed. Larenzo let his gaze rove over her, remembering her golden skin, her laughing eyes that looked so serious and dark now. She looked different, he realised. More womanly. She must have gained a little weight, and yet it suited her. Her breasts were fuller under the soft pink sweater she wore, and her face was a bit rounder. Her skin was as golden as he’d remembered, her golden-brown hair wavy and tousled about her face. His golden girl. What a joke.
‘Why are you in America?’ she asked and Larenzo snapped his gaze away from her.
‘I’m relocating to New York.’
‘New York—’
‘Is that a problem?’ he enquired coolly. ‘I only came here to give you your pay.’
‘I know, but...’ She glanced up towards the stairs once more, and Larenzo’s gaze narrowed. That was the second time she’d done that. What was upstairs? Was Emma hiding something from him? God knew he’d learned to become suspicious of everyone and everything. Trust was a concept he no longer even remotely considered.
