All that stood out was something about insider trading—and Luke worked for one of the largest merchant banks in Australia.
“Allegedly bribing the cops. Allegedly laundering money.” His eyes went stony, his expression grim. A wall of self-protection to hide the blow she’d unthinkingly dealt him. “One disgruntled employee with an ax to grind, and the mighty press finishes the job. And for the record, Ms. Jones, the case was eventually thrown out and I was never formally named. They didn’t splash that on the front page though, did they?” He spun on his heel and strode across the road.
His words struck Beth like a slap. A wave of shame immediately followed, burning her cheeks as surely as if he’d landed the blow.
She had hurt him. She’d never willingly hurt anyone, yet she’d blurted out those accusations without a thought as to Luke’s innocence.
A small groan of dismay escaped as she recalled the scant details. More important, she remembered the overwhelming rush of sympathy she’d felt for Luke De Rossi right before she’d clicked off the TV in frustration. She had avoided the news since then and frankly, the absence of hearsay, rumor and half-truths was wonderfully liberating.
So why was she so willing to believe in Luke’s guilt now?
That thought propelled her into action. She dashed across the street to where Luke was impatiently waiting, his eyes hidden by sunglasses.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I overreacted. I …” She shrugged, at a loss for words. “It’s not exactly been a normal day for me, okay?”
He sighed, as if suddenly tired of arguing. “Yeah. Me neither. So let’s just focus on clearing up this mess.”
Then he turned and Beth followed in silence as he stalked down the mall.
By the time they’d made it through the gradually thickening crowd of tourists and office workers, avoided a persistent busker and his jovial crowd then a group of teenagers with surfboards, Beth was slightly out of breath. Luke’s purposeful strides left her in the dust. The determined set to his jaw and shoulders screamed “get out of my way.” No wonder people stopped to stare as he breezed by, their whispers and odd looks quickly masked as she stabbed them with a glare.
As they approached Crown Real Estate, they both noticed the closed sign and the locked glass doors.
“Open at ten,” Luke muttered, glaring at the sign. Still, he tried the handle, then shielded his eyes and peered in. Suddenly he pulled back with a soft curse, a moment too late.
A key rattled and the door opened an inch. A business-suited man, his tie askew, smiled out at them.
“Sorry. Office opens in half an hour.”
“Is Jay around?” Beth asked.
“She’s doing a bunch of showings until twelve. Hang on.” He disappeared for a second then returned with a business card. “Call her mobile.” His gaze flicked over to Luke and lingered. “Hey, I know you. You’re—”
“No one important. Thanks.” Luke turned and took Beth’s arm, steering her away.
Beth extracted herself from Luke’s grip moments later.
“Well, that was a bust,” he muttered.
“Not entirely.” Beth took out her phone and punched in the number on the card as they walked back to the car.
“Message bank.” She left a brief message then clicked off. “Great. So what now?”
Luke shoved his hands deep in his pockets and tightened his jaw. “We’re going to Brisbane.”
Two hours later, after meeting with Gino’s lawyer, they rode the elevator down to the basement parking lot in silence.
Beth punched the button again, barely sparing him a glance. She glared at the tiny red numbers, her plunging stomach having little to do with their descent.
“So that’s it, then. You win.”
He glanced up from his phone, still scrolling. “It’s not about me winning.”
“Isn’t it?” She crossed her arms, refusing to look at him.
“No. Probate will take a few months then the estate has to be wound up. That’ll take years.”
Years. “What about my tenancy agreement?”
“Your lease expires the same time the agency’s management agreement does.” Luke frowned then tapped the screen.
“I was in that meeting too.” She scowled at him. “Both are legally binding—”
He held up a hand and put the phone to his ear. “It’s Luke De Rossi.”
Man, that was really beginning to bug her! Beth waited in simmering silence until he hung up.
“I’ll buy the house from you,” she said suddenly. “How much?”
One eyebrow lifted. “I need to get it properly assessed.”
“Ballpark, then.”
He studied her in total silence before saying slowly, “It’ll be way out of your price range.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “How would you know?”
“You do know a Sunset Island price tag starts at a million? What would you use as collateral?”
“My business. And when I get this thing with the bank sorted—”
“What if you don’t?”
“I will. And anyway, I’m there until my lease is up, which gives me time.”
“No.”
“You’re going to keep it?” she asked, surprised.
“Look, it’s not personal.”
At her blatant skepticism, his expression twisted in annoyance. “Gino’s investments took a big hit in the financial crisis, the casino’s been hemorrhaging cash and the gaming commission probe scared a lot of people off. I need to sell quickly and quietly so I can get back to my job. Now, unless you have a spare couple of million hanging around, that rules you out.”
Her initial surprise quickly transformed into irritation. “So nothing matters except protecting your reputation?”
“Do not—” he narrowed his eyes “—presume to judge me, Beth. We still don’t know why you’re involved here.”
“Well, it’s obviously just a massive coincidence.”
His silence and flat expression told her what he thought of that. “I can offer you a good price for your lease.”
She blinked. He wanted her gone that badly he was willing to buy her out? “I don’t want to leave. I want my house.”
The elevator doors opened then and he walked out without a word.
Wow. Talk about shutting her down. She watched his long legs eat up the distance, taking him farther away with each stride until he paused and turned.
“Coming?”
His voice echoed in the great concrete cavern. A thousand different retorts, all considered then discarded, formed as she stalked toward him.
Her phone rang then, but he suddenly grabbed her arm.
She hissed, twisting in his warm grip. “What do you—”
“Shh. Something’s not right.”
“But—”
“Move. Now.”
Her eyes went in the direction of his nod, to the fire stairs nestled in a concrete alcove, then widened.
And all hell broke loose.