No wonder her father hadn’t come, he thought bitterly. They obviously hadn’t wanted anything to dilute the pure, virginal image she presented in her white shirt and her clean, shiny hair. If she’d been standing in front of a judge and jury, they’d have cleared her of murder.
She stood, frozen to the spot, her expression suitably confused as she considered his question. ‘Why would I have trouble sleeping at night?’ Her expression was innocent, her complexion as pure and English as clotted cream.
He was willing to bet she’d had a traditional English upbringing. She’d probably attended one of those starched girls’ boarding-schools that taught the essential rule for surviving in life—namely how to part a man from his wallet.
The usual technique was to marry a rich guy and then divorce and take him to the cleaners. The three Rs of female money-making—Reel in a wealthy guy, Rip him off and Retire.
He wondered why Grace Thacker hadn’t taken that route. Perhaps she considered it too much bother.
He suppressed his natural inclination to confront her with the information in his possession and conclude the meeting as swiftly as possible.
That approach made it all a bit too easy for her, didn’t it? She’d protest a bit at first, probably bluster and deny everything until she realised just how much he knew, then she’d probably use tears or sex to persuade him not to prosecute. Either way, she’d fly back to London without her loan and that would be the end of that.
And he didn’t want it to be the end.
She was going to suffer. He wanted her to feel some of the worry and uncertainty that she’d inflicted on others. And she was worried, he could see it in her eyes. Despite the act, Grace Thacker was nervous.
‘Why would you think I might not be able to sleep at night?’ Her blue eyes were wide. ‘You mean, because I’m worrying about how we’ll pay off our debts if you call in your loan?’
No, he hadn’t meant that, but he decided to go along with her. ‘Are you worried?’
‘Of course.’ She gave him a shy smile that faltered under his grim stare. ‘So many people are depending on me but you just have to push that out of your head, don’t you, or you’d go nuts?’
He leaned back in his chair and watched her, searching for cracks, flaws. Any sign that she had a human streak. Any sign of remorse. But there was nothing. Just a flicker of wariness that suggested that he was the one who was being unreasonable. ‘So you don’t think about other people?’
She frowned slightly. ‘Well, it’s hard not to, when you’re responsible for their income, but it’s important that you don’t let emotion affect what needs to be done or everyone suffers.’
Memories, vile and deadly, slid into his brain and this time there was no holding them back.
Suddenly he was eight years old again. Eight years old and totally alone. Starving hungry. Frightened. Lost in the dark. Surrounded by menacing and unfamiliar sounds that all meant danger. Freezing sweat bathed his body and he rose to his feet and paced across to the window, struggling to free himself from the dark tentacles of his past.
For a moment he stood still, steadying his breathing, and then he turned to face her, nothing of his feelings showing on his face. ‘So would you describe yourself as ruthless?’
‘Honestly?’ The corners of her soft mouth lifted. ‘No, I’m not. But I don’t think you necessarily have to be ruthless to succeed in business.’
‘What about deceitful and manipulative?’ Rafael kept his tone neutral. ‘Are those qualities that you consider necessary for corporate advancement?’
She stared at him. ‘I don’t understand where this conversation is going.’
‘No?’ But she was wondering, she had to be.
And suddenly he decided on a course of action.
He was going to show her the consequences of her actions. Personally. And, in doing so, he was going to make sure that she suffered. Really suffered. His eyes rested on the neat little suit and the sexy shoes with the thin, tall heel. Oh, yes, she was going to suffer.
Generally speaking his interest in women’s clothing was only sparked by the removal process, but he did know that four-inch heels and the jungle were a less than promising combination. ‘Did you pack a bag, Miss Thacker?’
‘For what?’
‘I want you to stay for a few days, as my guest.’ He pushed away a disturbingly clear image of her naked body reclining in his sumptuous guest bedroom and instead imagined her picking her way along a rough jungle path in a pair of heels designed for a short stroll round a glittery shopping mall. ‘You’ve come all this way. There are a few things I’d like to show you, while you’re here.’
Like snakes, spiders and more jungle than you’ve ever dreamed of.
The wariness in her eyes grew. ‘A moment ago you were telling me that I only had ten minutes. Why would you suddenly invite me to stay?’
Because he was going to drive her tension levels into outer space. And then he was going to make her sorry. Really, really sorry.
‘I’m always impressed by determination, Miss Thacker,’ he drawled, suppressing the irony in his tone. ‘You’ve earned yourself extra time.’