The Millionaire's Blackmail Bargain (2 of 2 free samples)

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COPYRIGHT
The Millionaire's Blackmail Bargain by Heidi Rice. Copyright 2007 by Heidi Rice.
All Rights Reserved. Sharing not permitted.

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CHAPTER ONE (CONT'D)

The thick, wavy black hair that curled round his ears, his tanned face, dark slashing brows and a physique that Mel guessed he must spend hours in the gym every day to maintain gave him the look of a modern-day pirate. New blue jeans, black leather boots and a simple black crew-neck sweater only enhanced the romantic image. Mel wondered what colour his eyes might be, when he turned and his gaze locked on hers. A deep, almost translucent blue, it turned out. His eyes flicked down her frame in a way she should have found insulting but her pulse-rate was too busy speeding up to hyperdrive. He seemed to be focused on her forever, although it could only have been a few seconds.

When he turned his attention back to the bookstore manager, Mel's breath gushed out. She tore her eyes away from him, annoyed with herself. He looked like all God-blessed people. Confident. Arrogant. Overwhelming. The sort of guy who turned heads and knew it. The sort of guy she'd sworn off for life.

Mel hadn't pointed 'the hunk' out to Louisa. She knew exactly where her friend's imagination would run with it. She hadn't been wrong.

'Who is he and what's he doing here, then?' Louisa continued. 'He's not a reporter, I'd know him if he was. And he's not talking to the publishing people either.'

'He's probably some guy who's wandered in off the street to see what's going on.'

'He's leaving.' Louisa dumped her sandwich plate on a pile of books and grabbed Mel's arm. 'Let's follow him.'

Before she could blink, Mel was being hauled down Piccadilly, dodging pedestrians as Louisa tried to keep up with the mysterious stranger's long strides. Five minutes later they were both standing breathless outside the entrance to The Ritz.

'You see, I told you,' Mel said between pants. 'He's a tourist. Thank goodness he didn't spot us stalking him down the street.'

'Wait here. I've got an idea.'

Mel frowned as Louisa dashed into the hotel. It was cold, it was starting to rain, she'd left her coat at the bookstore, she was hungry and she wanted to go home.

Mel was still frowning when Louisa burst back through the doors five freezing minutes later, her eyes lit up like the Christmas decorations flanking the hotel's entrance.

'Mel, it's definitely, definitely him.' Louisa clasped her hands together in mock prayer, gazed up at the ornate stone pillars of The Ritz entrance plaza. 'Thank you, God.' She smiled at Mel. 'That silly old bag Dansworth cannot pass me over for promotion again when I land this story on her desk.'

Mel knew she shouldn't encourage it, but even her curiosity was piqued. 'What makes you think the guy's Devlin?'

'Colin works here as the bell manager.'

What? 'Who's Colin?'

'Colin, my second-but-last ex. You know, he always used to call you babe and make you grind your teeth.'

'Okay, so what did Colin have to say?' This should be good. Colin was a moron if Mel's memory served her correctly.

'The guy's registered under the name Dempsey. He's staying in the Royal Suite, one of the most expensive suites in the whole hotel. And Colin says one of the bell boys was crowing when the guy arrived a week ago because he had to deliver a pricey new laptop to his suite and got a twenty-pound tip for his trouble.'

'Okay.' Mel considered the information. 'So he's a rich, computer nerd tourist. So what?'

Louisa grinned, the light in her eyes undimmed. 'Mel.' Her fingers dug into Mel's arm. 'Colin has a passkey.'

'So?'

'Don't be dense. The guy's gone into the restaurant to have dinner. Colin will let you into his suite. All you have to do is find out if he's really who he says he is.'

'What? Are you completely insane?' Mel resisted the urge to shout, but only just. 'That's completely illegal. And why should I do it? I'm a lowly editorial assistant. You're the reporter.'

'You write the book-review column,' Louisa said, missing the point entirely.

'Only because Dansworth doesn't think anyone bothers to read it,' Mel replied, grudgingly. She'd worked long and hard to get the opportunity to write the book reviews; it was the only thing she really enjoyed about her job at London Nights.

'It'll only take you a few minutes,' Louisa pleaded.

Mel shivered, suddenly feeling very uneasy. 'I still don't see why you can't do it?'

Louisa looked more sheepish than Bo Peep. 'I'm sort of going to be busy with Colin. He's not risking arrest for nothing, you know.'

Mel's jaw dropped. 'You're not seriously going to prostitute yourself for the sake of a story which probably isn't even a story?'

Louisa waved her hand impatiently. 'Colin happens to be a great kisser.' She reached into her bag and pulled out her press card. 'If anyone catches you... ' she paused dramatically '... which they won't--you can say you're me.' She thrust the card into Mel's hand. 'The picture's so faded now, no one will be able to tell you're not me. I'll take any flak, I promise.' Louisa pushed her glossy mane of blonde hair back from her face. 'Mel, you know the magazine needs a boost. We've been dropping circulation for months now. There have even been rumours we might fold.'

'I hadn't heard that.' Mel thought, shocked. She needed this job. The mortgage on her tiny, shoebox-sized flat in West London was enormous and it wasn't going to pay itself.

'Mel.' Louisa's tone became sombre, her eyes serious. 'If I'm prepared to make this sacrifice with Colin to save our colleagues from redundancy, you ought to be prepared to make one too.'

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