Susan Mallery - Living On The Edge

He was tall, muscular and dark in a way that went deeper than his black hair and brown eyes. He was the kind of man people walked around rather than confronted. Power and confidence surrounded him like a visible aura. He wore black and there was a gun at his belt. How much did he know? Would he be using the gun on her?

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” the man said, sounding more angry than actually sorry.

“It’s all right. How is your friend?”

“Still in surgery.”

“I hope he’s going to be all right.” She didn’t need the weight of a stranger’s injuries on her already burdened conscience.

A case could be made that the shooting wasn’t her fault—she hadn’t asked to be rescued or even kidnapped in the first place. But the injured man had been there because of her, and she couldn’t make herself believe she wasn’t somehow responsible.

The man in front of her looked her over. “Are you hungry? Did they feed you?”

“I’m fine.” She couldn’t imagine ever eating again. She couldn’t imagine life ever being normal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Keane. Tanner Keane.”

“Mr. Keane, I’m assuming my family hired you to find me?”

He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Call me Tanner. And yes, your husband and your father came to me a few days ago. They’d hired another company to locate you after the kidnapping, but they didn’t have much luck.” He raised one shoulder, then let it fall. “I’m better.”

Interesting. Why would Christopher have gone to someone who wasn’t the best? He hated dealing with anyone who wasn’t completely qualified. She tried to focus on the question, on the point of it all, but lack of sleep made her fuzzy.

It had to be about money, she told herself. But how?

“Was there a ransom?” she asked.

“Twenty million.”

Madison felt her head start to swim. “That much.” She crossed to the bed and sank down onto the mattress. “Was it paid?”

“It would have been.” Tanner glanced at his watch. “In about two hours. I put in a call to have it intercepted. I’ll be returning the money to your family when I take you to them.”

Which was the problem, she thought. “My father hired you?”

“And your husband. They’re both very anxious to get you back. It’s understandable. This has been difficult for them, as well.”

Madison fought the urge to laugh. She had a feeling any humor would quickly explode into hysterics. Once she lost control, she might never get it back.

“Mr. Keane—Tanner—I don’t want to be returned to my family.”

One dark eyebrow rose slowly. “Why is that?”

“Do you need a reason? Can’t you simply let me go?”

“My contract with your family states that I return you to them. I would have done it right away, but Kelly’s medical treatment took priority.”

“I know and it’s fine. I just…” She stared at him, wondering how to make this man understand. “Unless you’re planning to hold me captive, as well, I should be free to go.”

If only he would agree. She could easily disappear—Los Angeles was a huge place and she had friends no one knew about.

“I can’t have you wandering the streets with no money or identification.”

Oh, right. No credit cards, either, although she didn’t think she could use them. Christopher would be able to track her.

Tanner gave her a smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Mrs. Hilliard, you’ve been through a very traumatic experience. You’re confused, and that’s understandable. I’m sure when you’re back home with your husband and your father, you’ll feel much better. In a few weeks, you’ll be able to put this whole experience behind you.”

“I hope you’re right. Unfortunately I think there’s also a very good chance I’ll be dead.”

Tanner held in a groan. He had neither the time nor the patience to deal with a drama queen right now. He wanted Madison Hilliard out of his life so he could focus on what was important. Dammit all to hell, what was it about rich women and their need to be the center of the universe?

“Wasn’t the kidnapping enough for one week?” he asked, barely able to restrain his temper.

“I’m not playing a game,” she said, her eyes wide with a lot of emotion he wasn’t interested in reading. “You can’t return me to my family. Take me anywhere else. Please.”

“How about a police station?”

She considered that option. Funny how he wasn’t surprised when she slowly shook her head. The cops wouldn’t be the kind of audience that interested her. They wouldn’t be willing to play her little game, either.

He narrowed his gaze as he wondered if mental problems ran in her family.

She took a step toward him. “Christopher is the one who kidnapped me. I was attacked and drugged as I walked into my condo. I couldn’t see anyone, but I recognized his watch right before I passed out. It’s very distinctive—he had it custom-made.”

“Uh-huh.” He would have to give her points for originality, if nothing else. “Can you prove it?”

“What? Of course not. It was a kidnapping. It’s not as if they sent me an itinerary ahead of time and used Christopher’s letterhead. But I know what I saw.”

Sure. “So tell me, Madison, why would your husband want to kidnap you?”

“I don’t know. I guess he needed the money.”

“You both already have plenty of that.”

“Christopher doesn’t have as much as you’d think. He’s always running short of cash. That’s the only thing that explains the excessive ransom.”

“Twenty million is a hell of a lot for him to need.”

She nodded. “Please. I know how this sounds. I know you have no reason to trust me, but things are not as they seem. Christopher lives on the edge. He gambles and usually loses a lot. He buys expensive pieces of art and furniture. Trust me, he always needs more money.”

“Nothing personal, Mrs. Hilliard, but I don’t trust you.”

“You don’t like me, either,” Madison said. “That’s okay. But it doesn’t give you the right to put me at risk.”

“I don’t believe you are. Why would your husband have hired two different companies to find you if he wanted you dead?”

“Because I’m worth more to him alive. You don’t actually know he hired another company. He could be lying.”

“Sure, and so could you.” Tanner reached the end of his attention span for this conversation. “I was hired by your husband and your father to find you, and I did. Because of that, one of my best men is close to death. All I want is my fee and you out of my life. I’m not interested in getting involved in whatever sick game you and your husband are playing.”

With that, he turned and headed for the door.

Madison rushed toward him. “We’re not married. Did he tell you that? We’ve been divorced for over six months. I’m sure there’s a way you could check the court records to verify it.”

Tanner stared at her. Divorced? He glanced at her left hand. No ring and no marks to show one had been removed recently. Neither Hilliard nor her father had said anything about a divorce. In fact, Hilliard had made it very clear he wanted his wife home with him, where she belonged. Tanner remembered wondering about Mrs. Hilliard’s feelings on being such an important possession.

Not that it changed anything, he told himself. Divorced or not, he’d been paid to complete a job and he had. Except…

He swore under his breath. There was something about her desperation, something about her words and, most important, something about the tension in his gut. He’d learned from hard experience to never ignore that feeling.