He grinned, and for the first time she caught a fleeting echo of the good-looking, easy-on-the-eye charmer he had been when she’d first met him.
All her girlfriends had been deeply envious of the way he’d pursued her so single-mindedly. If only they had known what he really was they would have pitied her instead. If only she hadn’t been so flattered, so dazzled, naively incapable of seeing the real man behind the façade.
‘Talkative woman, your mother-in-law. I even got the address of your Spanish home,’ he boasted. ‘I quite fancy lazing around on a Costa, drinking sangria in the sun, but for the time being ten thou will do. In cash. Tomorrow. Same time, same place. Or else.’
She glared at him, appalled. There had to be a way out of this nightmare, she thought wildly. The police? If she took out an injunction to make him stay away from her would that apply in Spain, or would she also have to go through the Spanish courts?
Jed, she thought weakly. Oh, if only he were here! He would know what to do.
She swung on her heels, heading back for the house. Liam was out of his head if he thought she’d hand over that kind of money and then sit back and wait until he came and asked for more!
If he’d shown some remorse for his crimes, said he was on his uppers and trying to go straight, then she would have gladly given him something to help him get on his feet again and find honest work. But this—this was extortion with menaces! He would never change.
‘Don’t walk away from me!’ His hand grabbed her arm before she’d gone two paces. There was brutal violence in his voice now and she stood very still, hardly daring to breathe. She couldn’t bear him touching her, wanted to shake him off, but didn’t dare provoke him.
‘That’s better.’ He sounded calmer now, and he said with a honeyed sweetness that sent shivers down her spine, ‘I can spin a good yarn, too, honeybunch. You don’t have a monopoly. It would be a real cracker in the hands of a top journalist. Given the type of publicity you get, the tabloids would pay well for the skeleton in your cupboard. Married to a common criminal, enjoying all the goodies—which of your readers is going to believe you didn’t have a part in it? Or at the very least know what was going on, where all that extra money was coming from, and fully condone it?
‘Dirt sticks, sweetie-pie. It would cause a small sensation, but just imagine what it could do if the more sober broadsheets picked it up.’ His fingers tightened on her arm as he bent and whispered in her ear. ‘Your husband’s an establishment guy; he heads an awesome establishment-type business. The customers for his fabulous gems come from the very top social drawer. There’s many a royal lady wearing something fabulous from Nolan’s. Bit of a slur on the revered family name to have it coupled with a woman with that kind of past, wouldn’t you say?
‘The nobs just might start buying their platinum and diamond knick-knacks from one or other of his highfalutin’ rivals.’ He jerked her closer. ‘So pay up, or, as I said——take the consequences.’
He pulled her even closer, intimately close. And she could do nothing about it. All the stuffing had been knocked out of her. He meant it, all of it. He’d get the money one way or another.
In the light of the publicity surrounding her recent acceptance of that prestigious award the seamier tabloids would pay top dollar for his story, his warped allegations, disregarding the fact that there might not be any truth in them because stuff like that sold papers.
People liked to see other people get to the top, but they liked it better when they saw them knocked right back down again!
She could handle it for herself, but she couldn’t let Jed and the Nolan gem empire be smothered in that kind of slimy publicity. She couldn’t let that happen to him.
‘You can have your money,’ she said bitterly, hating having to give way but having no choice. ‘I don’t have that amount in my UK account. But we’re going back to Spain tomorrow. I can get my hands on it there and send—’
‘I’ll give you three days.’ He stuck his face inches from hers. ‘And I’ll come to Spain and pick it up in person. No cheques in the post, nothing traceable. Cash. I know where to find you, remember.’ He pushed his face closer. ‘Is your phone unlisted?’
She shook her head, trying to draw back. He wouldn’t let her.
‘Good. I’ll call you. Tell you when and where to meet me.’
The scrunch of tyres on the gravelled surface of the drive had Liam pulling his face out of hers, turning his head. Elena felt weak with relief. Being so close to him had made her feel nauseous and dizzy. But she would rather collapse in a heap than cling onto the foul blackmailer. Only when she heard the expensive clunk of the Jaguar’s door did she fully understand what was happening.