Watching her pink shadowed eyelids flutter, I braced for the argument to come. Whoever’s eyes opened, she wasn’t going to approve of what I’d done. As good as my reasons might have been, noble even, nobody wanted to be drugged, kidnapped and smuggled out of the country.
Emma’s eyes finally fluttered open. She blinked repeatedly, focused on the ceiling. Her head turned to the side. She frowned at the corrugated wall at the edge of the bed, and finally pushed herself up to her elbows.
“You!” She screamed and pointed.
She scrambled to the foot of the bed, sending her hem riding even higher. I kept my eyes away, mostly. Best not to anger her further.
She staggered to her feet and finally realized her wardrobe malfunction. Her legs shook while she fixed her skirt. Her accusatory finger rose again. She shuffled toward the side wall and her other hand slapped against it for balance.
“You’ve got some nerve,” she barked, still blinking the drugs from her system. “I agreed to your fake marriage scam for a pittance and the promise of £15,000 in the immediate future. It’s been over a year, by the way. I want interest. I never agreed to being kidnapped.”
“Most people who are don’t,” I said, and regretted it immediately.
A murderous sneer took over her face. It clashed with her soft pink makeup. She stumbled a few steps closer, hand never leaving the wall. I held my hands up to the sides.
“Sorry, too soon,” I continued, not helping myself in the slightest, “but I had to get you out of there before your brother’s people learned where you were.”
She blinked at me, head tilted. Her frown grew. The sedatives in her system clearly still clouded her thoughts some. She sighed and leaned against the wall. She knocked on it, producing a dull metallic ring.
“Where the hell are we?” she asked and knocked the wall again. “Are we in a truck trailer or something?”
Her rapidly blinking eyes moved from the bed at her end, down the narrow room past the couch and TV I’d just turned off to the curtains that hid the door. She frowned at me, eyebrows high, waiting for my answers.
“It’s a shipping container, actually.” I knocked on the wall myself. “Comfortable way to travel if you have one kitted out like mine.”
“Are you living here?” she asked and her nose crinkled disapprovingly.
“Only when I have to,” I replied. “It is a great place to hide, when I need to.”
“Hide?” She dropped her head and sighed. “I’m never getting my money, am I? Not with you on the run.”
I stepped closer, only to immediately stop and hold my hands up again. Emma’s glare could have burnt me to cinders. My hard truths would only give it more power, but they were also the only way she’d understand. I had to trust in her mercenary nature. Once she saw the profit in it, I’d earn her forgiveness and gain an ally.
“You’re going to get every penny,” I said while my arms moved forward, palms up. “You want interest, we can come to an agreement.”
“So your grandmother finally kicked the bucket?” she taunted.
She winced and the angry sneer softened enough to let in a hint of the bubbly girl she’d been back in Paris. She regretted her words, if only a little. Good for my outlook in the end, but my next words would yank it all back.
“Gran died when I was four,” I replied and took another step forward. “And I never met my mum’s mum. Lung cancer took her a few years before I was born.”
Emma’s eyes had opened wide by the time I finished. Rage boiled the last dregs of the sedative from her system. If only I could have ripped all her blinders off in one quick motion.
“So there’s no inheritance?” Her eyes darted around, fingers twitching, itching to throw something at me. “Where are you going to get my £15k then? Pawn your shipping container hidey hole? You lied to me!”
“I misled you, yes,” I admitted with another, shorter step closer, “but you’ll get your money, I promise. I can explain everything, if you let me.”
She’d asked about the money before accusing me of lying. My assurance she’d get paid stole from her anger. Easy to understand which ranked higher for her. Mercenary, as expected. I fought a grin that would have riled her all up again.
“You have a hell of a lot to explain,” she said and leaned heavier against the wall. “If you have my money, plus interest, what’s with all this cloak and dagger shit? You could have just found me when I was alone and slipped me the cash. What the hell is going on?”
“Your brother got impatient,” I replied.
“That’s the second time you mentioned my brother…” She trailed off. An entire three-act play of expressions crossed her face. Furrowed eyebrows cocked with questions then rose at the conclusion. “How do you even know about my brother? I never talked about my brothers with you.”
Before I could tear away another lie, a metallic thunk reverberated around the shipping container. The floor quaked. I steadied myself with a hand against the wall. Emma’s unsure legs buckled and she fell back to the bed.
“What the hell was that?” she asked as she hopped back to her feet.
