Free To Wear His Ring Again by Chantelle Shaw Page A

cannoned into her ribs as a man stepped out from a shadowed recess and walked towards her. She did not know him, but she had recognised his voice. ‘David?’
    He was shortish, thinnish—nondescript. For a moment Isobel wondered why she had been so worried about this very ordinary-looking, middle-aged man.
    â€˜I knew you must remember me.’ He smiled pleasantly. ‘You felt the connection between us when we met at a Stone Ladies concert. We were together in a previous world and we will be together again in the next one, my darling.’
    The strange expression in his eyes sent a frisson of fear through Isobel, and she sensed that beneath his outwardly benign manner he was a mass of nervous energy and excitement that she found unnerving.
    â€˜I bought these for you.’ It was only then that she registered he was holding a cardboard box. Something in the man’s demeanour told Isobel to remain calm and play along with him. Hoping he did not notice that her hands were shaking, she took the box from him and opened the lid. The sickly-sweet scent of oriental lilies that pervaded the air was so strong she almost gagged.
    Feeling that he expected a response from her, she murmured, ‘They’re lovely.’ She stared at the white flowers and repressed a shudder.
    â€˜You remind me of a lily, beautiful and pure.’ David’s voice suddenly changed. ‘I thought you were pure, until I watched you kissing another man tonight.’
    Isobel swallowed. ‘You were there...at the party?’
    â€˜Where else would I be but with you, my angel? You belong to
me
, Izzy, and no other man shall try to steal you from me.’
    Isobel tensed as the stalker took a step closer. Her key was digging into the palm of her hand and she glanced along the corridor, trying to estimate the distance to her front door, wondering what her chances were of getting past David and making it to the safety of her flat. She did not dare risk it. Although he was not physically imposing, she sensed that he was stronger than he looked. His pale eyes were watching her intently and the manic gleam in his gaze chilled her blood.
    â€˜Come away with me.’ His voice hardened when she shook her head. ‘It is time that you and I left this earthly world.’
    The hell it was!
Isobel’s survival instinct kicked in. She threw the box of lilies at the stalker’s face before she spun round and raced down the corridor. Of course the flowers were not a substantial weapon, but her actions had surprised him and given her a vital few seconds’ head start. She heard his angry shout, heard his footsteps as he chased after her, but she resisted the temptation to look behind her as she reached the lift, which was thankfully still waiting at the fourth floor. She hit the button to open the doors. Come on,
come on!
she pleaded as they slid apart agonisingly slowly. She heard heavy breathing close to her, and she screamed as a hand grabbed her bare shoulder.
    In desperation she rammed her elbow hard into the stalker’s stomach. He groaned and released his grip. She fell into the lift and held down the button to close the doors. Only then did she look round and glimpse his crazed expression before the metal doors obliterated him from view.
    As the lift descended she tried to marshal her thoughts. How had David gained entry to the apartment building? The concierge always vetted visitors, and some of her friends had joked that it would be easier to break into the Bank of England than slip past Albert. Reaction was setting in, and she felt sick as the lift arrived at ground level.
    â€˜Miss Blake?’ The concierge looked up from his desk. ‘Is something the matter?’
    Isobel did not reply. Through the glass doors of the building she saw Constantin’s tall figure illuminated by the street lamp. He was not looking in her direction as he lowered his mobile phone from his ear and walked towards his car.