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.’