“Because if you did, you wouldn’t still be seated there. You would be running for your life.”
Eight
Haley felt the ripples of fear travel down her spine. Desmond’s charming façade had faded, allowing the almost brutal part to confront her.
With a swift movement, Haley felt herself jerked to her feet as Desmond practically frog-marched her to the front door.
When Riccardo rushed forward, she heard Desmond tell him to add the bill to the card on file before ushering her out the door. She didn’t try to get away from him. If Desmond Beck was going to off her, he wouldn’t do it when he could be linked to her murder. No, Mr. Beck was too smart for that. On the other hand, she would make darn sure that her doors and windows were bolted tightly when she went to bed, and the small pistol Nadia had talked her into buying was tucked under her pillow. She would be on the first plane that left in the morning, regardless of if it was heading home or not. She could end up in Timbuktu and be happy.
Walking through the door, Haley felt herself rushed along the sidewalk, back to the office. She tried to jerk her arm from his grasp before they reached the elevator.
“Have you lost your mind?” she hissed. “Everyone is watching.”
Desmond didn’t utter a sound, pressing the button on the elevator with his free hand.
Haley stopped trying to get away from him. Her movements weren’t making a difference, anyway, other than attracting attention. She still didn’t resist when Desmond moved her forward as the elevator door slid open.
“If you’re trying to prove you’re stronger than me, you win. Unfortunately, you don’t have my permission to be so heavy-handed with me—”
Haley gave a gasp as she was rushed from the elevator toward Desmond’s office.
“Lucas, hold my calls.”
She gaped at her former boss’ behavior, her bravado beginning to desert her when the office door closed behind them.
“Take a seat.”
The cold tone of his voice had her tearing her arm away from his touch. Turning sideways on shaking legs to face him fully, she told him, “I no longer work for you, which means I don’t have to do a damn thing you say.”
Desmond’s face went rock-hard. “Not even if you could possibly save hundreds of people’s lives, many of which are women and children?”
Haley didn’t know if she could believe him or not. How many times had she been taken in when her family had lied to get her cooperation?
“I’m not lying,” he said, as if he could read her mind. “Hear me out. If you still want to leave when I’m finished explaining, I won’t stop you.”
Giving a curt nod, Haley went to sit in the chair in front of his desk.
“My wealth has opened doors that, many times, I have wished they had remained closed. One such door was opened by a man who has enough power and wealth to do anything he wants, to the detriment of others.” Desmond’s feet didn’t make a sound on the carpet as he moved to sit on the edge of his desk.
Haley tucked a swatch of hair behind her ear. “And this man is …?”
“It’s better for your own safety if you don’t know, but I will say your family is well-acquainted with him.”
Conveniently, that meant she would be unable to prove any untruth he was about to tell her. Despite being skeptical, her mind went back through her childhood, sorting through the gatherings she had been forced to attend. Her parents would caution her brother and sisters to be on their best behavior and to be extremely polite and attentive around the rich ones. Some, she could recall; others were more of a blur.
Haley started to get up.
“What I’m about to tell you could jeopardize many lives, some of which are children. I inexpertly was trying to find a way to get the information I need while trying to shield you from his notice.”
She sat back down. “By pretending to have an interest in me, you thought you could find out some family secrets?” she asked snidely. “I don’t appreciate being used as a pawn. On top of my dislikes, it’s number one.”
She wasn’t taken in by his boyish contrition at her question. She had learned to look for shadows on a bright day.
Deciding to let Desmond continue explaining without interrupting again, she focused on his demeanor, as well as his words, trying to read into every subtle nuance of his expressions. She didn’t trust him any farther than she could throw him.
“Yes,” he admitted. “I’m not normally so deceptive. My only excuse is that I’m desperate. Children are involved, and they are my weak spot, and I feel as if their lives are riding on my shoulders if I fail at finding them.”