Tina Duncan - Playing His Dangerous Game

Royce swung in her direction. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Shara jumped to her feet and then wished she hadn’t. She was so angry she was shaking, her heart beating nineteen to the dozen. ‘You had no right to do that. No right at all.’

She began to pace, her sandals making a slap-slap sound on the tiles, then fading to nothing as she crossed the Aubusson rug.

Thoughts swirled through her head, one after the other, so fast they made her dizzy.

One thought stood out amongst all the others: all her hard work had just been undone in one fell swoop.

Anger ripped through her. Grinding to a halt in the middle of the Aubusson rug, she slammed her hands down on her hips and glared at Royce. ‘Who gave you permission to butt your nose in like that? This is precisely the situation I wanted to avoid. You’ve ruined everything, damn it!’

Royce gave her a puzzled look. ‘Perhaps you’d like to explain what it is you think I’ve ruined, exactly? Because I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.’

‘Everything!’ Shara raked a hand through her hair, unsurprised to find it was shaking. ‘This is precisely the reason I didn’t want a bodyguard in the first place. I don’t need some stranger interfering in my business. This is my situation and I’ll deal with it my way.’

Royce didn’t look the least bit impressed by her outburst. He was still standing by the phone. Still looking cool, calm and completely unruffled.

The fact that he was so in control while she was falling apart at the seams infuriated Shara no end.

‘First, when he hired me to protect you, your father gave me permission to handle the situation my way. That’s the only way I do business. He knows that. I have to have full control.’ He folded his arms across his impressive chest. ‘And, second, if what I’ve seen in the last twenty-four hours is any example of the way you’ve been dealing with the situation then it’s entirely ineffective.’

Pressure built inside her head until Shara thought she was going to explode. She could hardly stand still, but at the same time found that her muscles were locked so rigidly tight she was incapable of moving.

Here we go again.

Another man telling her what to do.

Another man trying to smack her down.

Well, he could try. But he wouldn’t succeed.

She glared across the distance separating them. ‘How dare you? You conceited oaf! You’ve known me for all of two seconds and yet you’re an expert on me and my way of dealing with situations? As far as I’m concerned your so-called expertise has just made the situation one hundred times worse. I don’t care who you are. I don’t care if you’re one of my father’s paid minions. From now on keep out of my way—or there will be hell to pay!’

Satisfied that she’d told him exactly what she thought of him, Shara spun on her heel and stormed out of the lounge room.

She stomped up the stairs to her bedroom and snatched up her handbag and car keys. She had no idea where she was going, but she had to get out of here.

How dare’d Royce put her down that way?

Frankly, she thought she’d done one hell of a job.

She was proud of the way she’d gathered enough courage to leave Steve. She was equally proud of the way she was ignoring his harassment.

It wasn’t easy.

Turning the other cheek was damned difficult at times, but she was trying to let his behaviour bounce off her.

So Mr Just Plain Royce could put that in his pipe and smoke it!

Exiting the house via the back staircase, Shara breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the garage undetected. She slid the key in the car’s ignition and was halfway down the driveway when she gave a victorious pump of her fist in the air.

She was no more than half a kilometre from the house when she stopped smiling. A glance in her rear vision mirror turned her smile into a frown.

There was a black sedan four or five cars back.

The same kind of black sedan that Steve drove.

Every time she made a turn the black sedan made a turn.

Every time she changed lanes so too did the other car.

Which, of course, could mean only one thing: Steve was following her.

Her teeth came together with an audible snap, and a shiver of fear snaked serpent-like down her spine.

‘Oh, no,’ she said.

Another quick glance in the mirror showed that the black sedan had closed the distance between them. It was now only three cars back, and getting closer all the time.

Her hands clenched on the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.

‘You stupid fool,’ she muttered out loud.

When was she going to learn that making decisions in the heat of the moment always backfired on her? When was she going to learn that when she was emotionally upset she almost always made the wrong decision?

She’d accused Royce of making the situation worse not twenty minutes ago, and then what had she done?

Stayed in the house where she was safe?

Oh, no—not her.

She’d had to try and prove a point by sneaking out.

Had she thought of the possible consequences?

No.

Had she waited until she’d calmed down before deciding what her next step should be?

No again.

She hadn’t just landed on the snake’s head by accident this time; she’d jumped on it all by herself.

‘Damn it. When will I ever learn?’

Royce peered through the front windscreen.

He’d been quite content to follow Shara at a distance. Close enough to intervene at the first sign of trouble, but far enough back to let Shara think she’d made a clean getaway.

It could prove interesting.

Where would she go? Who would she meet? What would she do?

The more he knew about her patterns of movement, her routine, the better prepared he’d be to deal with whatever the future held.

Information was power.

That wasn’t supposition; it was fact.

But that attitude belonged to five minutes ago.

He’d abandoned the hang-back strategy thirty seconds ago.

For one simple reason.

Shara was being followed.

There was no doubt about it.

Every time Shara made a turn the black sedan several cars behind her also made a turn.

Every time she changed lanes the black sedan changed lanes.

Logic suggested this wasn’t a random incident. Logic suggested that Brady had been watching the house and when Shara had left he’d followed her.

Cursing under his breath, Royce pressed the accelerator flat to the floor. The large 4WD leapt forward like a giant predator, gobbling up the grey ribbon of road beneath its tyres.

Thoughts whirred through his head at lightning speed.

Possibilities. Probabilities.

He assessed them all and came up with a strategy to counter each one.

Mixed in amongst all the analysing was a good dose of blinding fury. Not co-operating was one thing, but an outright attempt to evade him was quite another—and completely unacceptable.

The stunt Shara had just pulled reaffirmed his opinion of her.

Her actions were thoughtless and selfish, and he wouldn’t put up with such spoilt, self-absorbed behaviour—a fact that he’d make quite clear when he caught up with her.

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