Название | Vieri's Convenient Vows |
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Автор произведения | Andie Brock |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
Descending the stairs, she tentatively started to skirt the edge of the dance floor, looking for someone who might be able to help her. Somebody here had to have some information, had to know what had happened to Leah. But she had only gone a few steps when she was physically halted. With a shriek of terror she found herself airborne, both arms grabbed in a vice-like grip, the hold so powerful that her feet were lifted clean off the ground.
‘Get off me! Put me down!’ Frantically turning her head, she saw a pair of giant, suited men, their wide, impassive faces eerily shadowed by the coloured lights, giving nothing away. With a surge of adrenaline she tried to twist inside their grasp but this only made their brutish hands tighten further. Panic washed over her.
‘I insist that you put me down.’ She tried again, raising her voice over the incessant throb of noise, kicking her legs beneath her. ‘You’re hurting me.’
‘Then stop squirmin’.’
Offering no more than this one piece of advice, the pair of man beasts continued to move forward, Harper trapped between them like the filling of a sandwich. The crowd of revellers parted to let them through with surprisingly little interest in her plight. No one seemed remotely interested in helping her.
‘Stop this!’ She battled to halt the hysteria that was rising in her throat. She didn’t have a clue who these thugs were, only that she was being forcibly escorted against her will. And not even towards the entrance where the idea of being evicted into the chill of the night suddenly seemed all too inviting. No, she was being propelled in the opposite direction, further into the mysterious depths of this dark and dangerous place. A series of terrifying images flashed through her mind—abduction, murder, rape. And then the worst dread of all—was this what had happened to Leah?
Well, there was no way she would let herself be taken. She would fight with everything she had to save herself and her sister. ‘I’m warning you.’ She kicked her legs wildly beneath her once more. ‘If you don’t put me down right now I will scream so loud I will burst your eardrums.’
‘I wouldn’t advise that,’ a low voice growled in her ear. ‘If I were you I’d keep nice an’ quiet. When you’ve done what you’ve done you’ve gotta expect consequences. Makin’ a fuss ain’t gonna help nothing.’
Done? What had she done? Surely they weren’t talking about her fooling the security at the door?
Gaining entrance to this exclusive, members’ only nightclub had proved to be surprisingly easy. Sidling up to the bouncer, she had been prepared for trouble, deciding she would have to throw herself on his mercy and explain why she was here. But no explanation had been necessary. The guy had moved aside and waved her straight in, uttering, ‘Nice of you to join us again,’ in a deep, mocking voice. Because of course he had thought she was her sister. He had thought she was Leah.
The last Harper had heard from her twin had been over a month ago, a drunken phone call in the wee small hours, Leah never having had any respect for the time difference between Scotland and New York. Harper’s sleep-fuddled brain had struggled to understand what Leah was telling her—something about having met a man who was going to make her rich, how the family would never have to worry about money again.
And then nothing. As time had gone on the creeping concern that something was wrong had quickly escalated into a full-blown panic that a dreadful fate must have befallen her sister. Enough to see Harper maxing out her credit card to fly to New York and make her way to this alien venue, deep in the heart of Manhattan. Spectrum nightclub, where Leah had been working as a hostess since she’d left their home in Scotland six months ago. The last place she had been seen before she had disappeared and the only place Harper could think of to start looking for her.
Now, as she was physically propelled forward by these fearsome man beasts towards God knew what end, Harper couldn’t help but panic that in coming to try and save her sister, she was about to suffer the same unknown fate.
At the back of the club, she found herself being bundled through a concealed door behind the stage and into a dark passageway. It was so narrow that the trio had to go in single file, her minders finally letting go of her arms but positioning themselves in front of and behind her, so close that she could feel the heat coming off them, smell the sweat. They ascended a dimly lit flight of stairs until they reached a door at the top and they moved beside her again. One of them rapped his knuckles against the matte black paint.
‘Enter.’
Harper was shoved into a small, square office, lit by a single florescent strip light. A dark-haired man sat at a desk facing the door, his head bent, his fingers rapidly tapping at the keys of a computer. Behind him, a long rectangle of glass, a two-way mirror, gave an uninterrupted view of the undulating mass below.
‘Thanks, guys.’ Still he didn’t look up. Harper noticed the way the light shone blue-black on the thick waves of his hair. ‘You may go.’
With subservient grunts the pair shuffled out, closing the door behind them.
Harper desperately tried to steady her heart rate, to think clearly. Her eyes flitted around the room to see if there was any means of escape. It was almost totally silent in here, she realised. The pulsating beat that had been with her ever since she had entered the nightclub had gone, replaced by the roaring of blood in her ears and the gentle tap of the laptop keyboard.
She stared at the man before her. Even though he was seated and steadfastly ignoring her, she could sense the power of him. But there was something else, something worse, an enmity that was radiating from him like a palpable force. Suddenly being left alone with this silent, formidable figure was worse than being manhandled by those gorillas. She was almost tempted to run after them, ask them to take her with them.
‘So.’ Still he refused to look at her. ‘The wanderer returns.’
‘No!’ With a rush of breath, Harper hurried to put him right. ‘You don’t understand...’
‘Spare me the excuses.’ Finally closing his laptop, the dark figure rose gracefully to his feet and Harper realised with a gulp how tall he was, how handsome, how effortlessly cool. ‘I’m really not interested.’ Still refusing to look her in the eye, he strolled casually to the door behind her. She heard him turn a key in the lock before slipping the key into his trouser pocket as he returned to his desk.
‘W...what are you doing?’
‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ He stood by his seat. ‘I’m making sure you don’t escape. Again.’
‘No.’ Harper tried again. ‘You’re making a mistake. I’m not—’
‘Sit down.’ He barked the order, gesturing to the chair opposite his. ‘There is no point in making this any harder than it already is.’
Harper edged forward and did as she was told. She felt as if she had fallen into some sort of rabbit hole. That none of this was real.
Seating himself, her captor folded his arms across his chest, his eyes finally meeting hers for the first time. And only then did his icy composure slip.
* * *
Che diavolo? What the hell? Vieri Romano ground down on his jaw. It was the wrong damned woman! A surge of frustration went through him as he clenched his fists. The person before him looked like Leah McDonald and she sounded like Leah McDonald, with that soft, lilting Scottish accent. But now that he was glaring at her beneath the harsh overhead light he knew with irritating certainty that she was not Leah McDonald.
Hell. He raked a hand through his hair as he continued to stare at this imposter. They were certainly very alike, obviously twins, but the subtle differences were now clear to see. This young woman’s eyes were wider apart, the lips fuller, the nose a tad longer. Her hair was different too, falling in careless auburn waves compared to Leah’s more styled tresses. But even without