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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

‘F i-Fire?’

Robert cocked an eyebrow. ‘Aye, at Walls Street. Remember?’

Nina swallowed, her fingers curling together in a tight fist. She could deny it, but… ‘I heard about it on the news.’

Her gaze flickered to her backpack. Those photos Jonas had snapped placed her at the crime scene. But amongst a sea of drunks, would someone recognise her? Did the place have CCTV? Judging by the state of that place, she doubted it. Besides nothing would’ve survived that fire.

Robert pushed off his seat and strode over to Nina’s backpack.

Nina jumped off her own seat, a protest ready on her lips. But all Robert did was turn and hold the bag up. ‘This will be with me until you give me answers.’

Nina crossed her arms, sending a glare Robert’s way. He dropped down on his seat again, her backpack secured between his feet just like Shah had done at the airport.

‘I was never in that nightclub,’ Nina said truthfully. She’d gone up to the top floor using a set of stairs at the back. They could hear the hullabaloo of the nightclub – the building had very thin walls – but she hadn’t entered it at all.

‘Were you in the building?’ Robert snapped, that dark glint back in his eyes.

Nina pulled her legs up on the sofa, wanting to curl into herself and wither away. Robert had shot her smouldering glances after that moment in the car park, but now he glared with anger and frustration.

‘You have no proof to place me there. Shah tried abducting me.’ Nina placed a hand over her throat. ‘He almost killed me today. How am I the criminal?’

The lips Robert had pressed together curved into a smirk. ‘So you were there that night.’

‘I-I…’

‘You can’t lie, Nina. Unlike most journalists, you can’t fib.’ Robert sat back, a small smile gracing his face. ‘What were you doing there?’

‘This is ridiculous. I told you I wasn’t there.’ Nina slid backward on the sofa, just slightly. He was getting close. Hell, he was close. And the only escape was…

She cast a glance at her backpack. Nina had gone to great lengths to keep the things in there with her at all times. But now, she had to leave, evidence be damned. After all, Robert knew .

Robert leaned forward again, as if trying to make up for the space she’d just put between them. ‘Why were you there?’

‘It’s none of your business.’

He lunged, and Nina gasped as his strong hands gripped her upper arms. He loomed over her, so close she saw the wildness in his eyes. ‘I’ll ask for the last time: why were you there?’

Nina’s heart had been palpitating, making its way into her throat, or so it felt, but now she was sure it would just stutter and stop. If Robert had been attracted to her, all he felt now was something dark, dangerous… sinful. She wasn’t afraid. The man had too much good in him to hurt her physically even when seething. But the sheer strength she’d felt in his body before… and now finding herself caged by his arms… Need for him pooled in her gut.

Nina licked her lips. This situation couldn’t get worse. Robert knew something about that night. And he’d lost his wife.

There would never be a ‘them’.

‘Work,’ she spluttered. ‘I was following up on a lead.’

Robert let go of her. ‘What lead?’

‘You know I can’t tell you that,’ Nina whispered.

He blew out a breath, like a bull about to charge. ‘I lost my wife in that fire; I don’t care about your journalistic ethics.’

Wait, what? He’d told her he’d lost his wife that day in the pub, but had he mentioned he’d lost her in that fire? ‘R-Robert, I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t think…’ Nina licked her lips again. ‘No one died in that fire.’

Robert didn’t have to respond; his raised eyebrows were enough to call out her shite. The news had initially been about a murder-fire, and then the police had confirmed it had been an accidental fire, the death also an accident. But they hadn’t revealed who’d died – a male or a female. The only person who knew the identity of the body was… her. So how could she tell him she knew Jonas had perished in that fire, not a woman?

Again, she tried wetting her lips. Why were they drying out so quickly?

Fear. She trembled from the burning need to confide in someone. She took a breath and burst – ‘It was a man, not a woman who died in that fire. I’m a journalist – I heard it.’

Just for a moment, Robert’s frown faltered. ‘You’re lying.’

Nina hugged herself, hoping that indecision meant he’d let her go.

No such luck.

‘You’re fucking lying,’ he growled at her.

She’d spoken to enough people to know it took a lot of time to change opinions, especially for those victims who told themselves a lie to get over their grief. A part of her knew this could be worse for him. But she remembered Jonas from that night and she wasn’t wrong. She mumbled, ‘Do you have proof it was a woman?’

Again, he pounced on her. His face was now so close, if she leaned in just an inch, her lips would brush his. But this was no amorous liaison. Robert’s lips were tight when he said, ‘DNA doesn’t lie.’

‘DNA in a nightclub that was brimming with people and then destroyed by fire? I don’t think that’s reliable.’

‘Why did you kill her?’ Robert twisted his lips. ‘Why?’

‘I didn’t!’ Nina yelled. ‘ I did not kill her .’

Robert paused; cocked his head. ‘What did you say?’

Nina wasn’t about to repeat that. She was leaving.

When she tried pushing away, Robert leaned in still closer, until she had no choice but to melt into the sofa. ‘You didn’t kill her. How can you prove you d-didn’t?’

Robert’s voice broke on that question.

Nina blinked at him. This was a man desperate for answers. His wife had died, and he wanted to blame it on someone.

The pieces of the puzzle came together then. The police had closed the case, deeming it an accident. And while she knew Jonas’s death wasn’t an accident, the fire was.

And this man wanted to pin it on her, blame her.

Tears pricked at her eyes at Robert’s distress. Nina wouldn’t have called herself an empath, but this man pulled at her in a way no one had before.

This time she reached for him, curling her hand around his muscled arm. ‘I was never in that nightclub, Robert. I swear to you. I wasn’t in there; I did not set the fire.’

Instead of replying to her, he just loomed over her, his face studying hers.

Unable to get a grip on her nerves, Nina sputtered, ‘Why would I set fire to that place? I was there to speak with a lead. It was work, and my investigation had nothing to do with that nightclub. I’d never met Shah before…’

Nina groaned and whispered, ‘The first time I met him was when he tried chasing me after I left that building.’

Robert opened his mouth to speak, but his voice cracked. So he cleared his throat and tried again. ‘When you left the burning building?’

Oh shit! Oh shit! She’d gone and slammed her head against a concrete wall. But once again, Robert’s eyes pulled her in, lulled her into saying, ‘No, when I left early the next morning, the building wasn’t on fire.’

‘Early morning? Why would you meet a potential lead in the early morning?’

Nina shut her eyes, knowing this was the nail in her coffin. ‘I never found my lead. I… I don’t remember, Robert. I don’t know what happened. But when I… when I woke up, it was dark outside, and too quiet, the sort of lull you hear after the incessant beat of music finally quietens. I was on the top floor – everything had been boarded up, but the stairs led down, not up… And when I woke up… there was a man there. He… he was dead.’ She squeezed her hands now. ‘I… I… I think I killed him.’