Blackmailed Into Bed (2 page)

Chase waited for that hint of fire to burn in her eyes once again, but it never came. Instead, she inclined her head once, slowly, before making one last, desperate pitch.

“ I thought that’ s what you would say. I even understand your position. But will a few more weeks really hurt you? There have to be other companies out there that can net you just as much profit. Can’ t you give my father just a few more weeks, maybe a month, to see if there’ s something he can do to save the business? If he can’ t, all you’ ve lost is a little time.” She paused for a beat, looking him straight in the eye and lifting both brows. “ Unless there’ s some personal reason you would be averse to helping me or my family.”

She put just enough emphasis on the remark to let him know she remembered that night twenty years ago as well as he did, although he doubted her reaction was anything close to his own. He felt a spiral of shame and embarrassment begin low in his gut and he tamped it down, refusing to be controlled by memories… childhood ones, at that.

Elena Sanchez hadn’ t changed a bit since he’ d last seen her. Oh, she’ d grown into a beautiful, breathtaking woman, but then, she’ d been a pretty girl.

Where it really counted, though, she was exactly the same. She still expected her feminine wiles and her family’ s wealth and reputation to get her whatever she desired.

Sanchez Restaurant Supply was apparently in enough trouble for her to feel compelled to try to help her father, instead of her usual attitude of letting daddy solve her problems. It was obvious she expected Chase to see the situation from her perspective and be mesmerized enough by the bit of skin she was flashing below the hem of her skirt and between the vee of her blouse to give her what she wanted.

Too bad for her that Chase Ramsey was not a man to be led around by the nose… or any other part of his anatomy.

“ I told you,” he said, with very little warmth to his words,

“ even if I had feelings about your family one way or the other, I wouldn’ t let them interfere with a business decision.”

“ Well, then,” she said shortly, getting to her feet and retrieving her purse from the seat of the other chair, “ I guess I’ m wasting my time and yours. Thank you for seeing me. I’ ll let you get back to your work.”

He watched the rigid set of her shoulders and the sensual sway of her hips as she walked away, having the uncontrollable urge to call her back.

Why should he want to keep her with him a few minutes longer, when up until today his fondest wish had been never to lay eyes on her again?

His brain was in chaos, struggling to process the conflicting feelings, while at the same time, he was kicking himself for still finding her even moderately attractive. He was like a man with split personalities: a part of him wanted to help her and part of him wanted to punish her.

“ Wait,” he called out, just as her long, red-tipped fingers curled around the knob of his office door.

Slowly, with obvious reluctance, she turned to face him.

“ I’ ve got a proposition for you,” he told her, pushing away from his desk and moving closer, stopping before his actions could be considered intimidating.

“ I happen to be in need of a female companion. A beautiful woman to accompany me on business trips and to related dinners and events.”

He straightened his tie and smoothed the lines of his jacket. His statement was at least half true. He might not need a companion, but it certainly would be convenient to have one at his disposal. He just couldn’ t figure out why he felt compelled to offer the position to this particular woman.

But it didn’ t keep him from pressing forward, even though she had yet to respond.

“ If you agree to be available to me whenever I need you, I’ ll agree to give your father the same amount of time to do what he can to save SRS. A day, a week, a month— it’ s entirely up to you.”

Her lips twitched, as though she was about to speak, but before she could utter a word, he held up a hand to stop her. “ You should know, before making a decision, that there will be sex involved. I’ ll expect you to share my bed, if that’ s something I require.”

Elena’ s eyes widened and she barely stopped herself from reaching out to slap him. What kind of woman did he think she was?

“ Aren’ t there women you can hire for that sort of thing?” she snapped. “ I’ m not a prostitute.”

“ I never said you were. I’ m simply telling you what it is that I need, and what you can do to help your father save his business.”

“ So you’ re asking me to be your mistress. Where you want me to be, when you want me to be there— a living doll you can take out of its box to look pretty and satisfy your physical needs, then put back when you’ re finished.”

He shrugged and stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his slacks, causing the sides of his suit jacket to bunch.

“ That’ s not exactly how I would have put it, but yes. I need a mistress and you need to buy time for your father to save his company. That’ s the deal, take it or leave it.”

“ You bastard,” she muttered with a breathless laugh that was anything but amused.

“ Quite possibly,” he said. “ But you’ re the one who came to me. And you should consider yourself lucky I’ m making you any sort of offer at all. I could have just as easily given you a firm no and sent you on your way.”

She wished she could argue, but knew he was absolutely right. Coming here had been a long shot, and the fact that he was suggesting any compromise at all was a blessing.

The question was: did she have a choice?

If she turned him down, she would have to go home and watch her father lose the business he loved, the company that essentially defined her family and made their name so well-known across Texas and the surrounding states.

But becoming Chase Ramsey’ s mistress… Sleeping with a virtual stranger was a difficult concept to swallow, but she was pretty sure this particular near stranger hated her with every fiber of his being. It was probably the driving force behind his proposition, since she couldn’ t picture him sitting across from any other woman who came to his office to discuss business and announcing that he would give her more time if she agreed to go to bed with him.

She took a deep breath, letting the fresh oxygen fill her lungs and pump through her bloodstream. Her fingertips turned numb from the death grip she had on her handbag.

“ Can I have some time to think it over?” she asked, making sure to keep her voice strong and steady. “ Or do you need an answer right this minute?”

Instead of responding, he pulled his hands from his pockets and returned to his desk. Still standing, he grabbed a sheet of memo paper and a pen, then leaned over to scribble a quick note. Marching back in her direction, he handed it to her.

When she glanced down, she found a date, time and the name of the local airport. Below that, he’ d added the gate number for a flight to Las Vegas.

“ I’ ll give you until Thursday. If you show up, I’ ll take it to mean you agree to my terms, and your father will get the chance to try to save his company. If not— ” He tipped his head and raised a brow. “ I’ ll continue with my plans to buy out SRS.”

She heard the underlying threat loud and clear, and left his office with the butterflies in her stomach flapping even harder than when she’ d arrived.

Two

W hen Elena arrived home later that evening, she was both physically and emotionally exhausted. After her fateful meeting with Chase Ramsey, she’ d gone back to her office and tried, to no avail, to focus on the appointments and paperwork involved in her job as a social worker. Thankfully, she didn’ t have any home visits to make and could go over her notes again later, when she was feeling more herself and less… distracted, drained, overwhelmed.

All day she had heard only four words playing over and over in her head. Chase’ s deep, seductive voice saying, I need a mistress.

I need a mistress…

I need a mistress…

I need a mistress…

And what bothered her most, what sent her mind careening into confusing, dangerous territory, was that every time those words rumbled through her brain, vivid images were quick to follow.

She could picture him stripped of that expensive suit, all tanned skin and rippling, corded muscles. Hovering over her as she lay stretched across satin sheets, naked and panting for his touch.

He was an attractive man— a handsome, virile, mouthwatering man— and she was a flesh and blood woman. No one could blame her for entertaining a fantasy or two about him, especially after he’ d invited her to share his bed not five hours before.

What frightened her was that, instead of being outraged as she was initially, she was now seriously considering it.

Dropping her briefcase at the base of the coatrack just inside the front door, she kicked off her shoes and gave a sigh of relief as she wiggled her toes in freedom. She didn’ t usually wear such high heels to work, but the red sling-backs went best with her favorite power outfit, and she’ d needed all the self-confidence she could muster to make her way to Ramsey Corporation to face Chase Ramsey himself.

In her stocking feet, she padded across the highly waxed parquet floor of the wide foyer, pausing for a moment to flip through the pile of mail on the table at the base of the steps.

She’ d lived in this house in Gabriel’ s Crossing all her life, but lately had begun to feel uncomfortable and out of place. Maybe because it wasn’ t so much a house as a mansion, looking like something out of Gone with the Wind. There were giant Ionic columns out front; a wide, curved staircase directly across from the front door leading to the second-story; and balconies at the back overlooking several acres of beautiful Texas landscape.

Her father had had it built when Sanchez Restaurant Supply first began to turn a decent profit, and Elena had long suspected the ostentatious design was in part the home her parents had always dreamed of living in, and part proof to anyone who doubted that a first-generation Mexican-American could not only do well for himself and his family, but do extremely well.

And until a few years ago, she’ d loved it here. As a teenager, she’ d considered it another status symbol to impress her friends, and she’ d taken every opportunity to have sleepovers or pool parties.

Now, though, without her mother to fill the house with her own brand of love and laughter, the house felt somewhat empty and much too large.

It was time, Elena knew, to start thinking about moving out. She should have done so years ago, but first her mother had been sick, and then her father had needed her.

Her sister, Alandra, had stuck around for the same reason.

Pulling out the letters and magazines with her name on them, Elena started up the stairs and headed for her room. All she wanted was to climb out of her clothes and sink into a nice hot bubble bath. She would light a few candles, turn on some soft classical music, and maybe even pour a glass of wine to sip while she floated away and did her best to forget Chase’ s troubling proposition.

Halfway down the hall, Elena knew it might be awhile before she could be alone with her exhaustion and jumbled thoughts. Her sister’ s choice of music— loud, blaring rock and roll— vibrated through her closed bedroom door, and Elena could hear Alandra’ s voice singing along.

She was about to pad by, sneak into her own room a few doors down and attempt to block out the thrumming beat of drums and a bass guitar, when Alandra’ s door opened and she stepped out in nothing more than a pale pink chemise-style slip and black stockings.

Both women jumped slightly in surprise, then Alandra threw her arms wide and rolled her eyes in relief.

“ Oh, Elena,” she called over the volume of the music, which was even louder with the door open, “ I’ m so glad you’ re home. I was about to go downstairs and ask Connie what she thinks of my outfit, but I value your opinion more.”

She waved a hand, inviting Elena in, as she moved across the lushly carpeted floor and turned off the stereo. The sudden silence was almost deafening, but Elena appreciated the gesture; her sister knew how much the loud music bothered her. At a lower volume, it was almost tolerable.

“ I’ ve got a dinner in an hour. We’ re trying to raise money for a battered women’ s shelter. I’ m not in charge this time, thank heavens, but I still want to look good.”

While Elena perched on the end of her sister’ s canopied princess bed, Alandra went to the closet and pulled out two dresses on padded hangers.

“ Which of these do you like best?” she asked, holding one and then the other in front of her tall, slim body.

Alandra Sanchez was, quite simply, gorgeous. Olive skin, as clear and smooth as a baby’ s bottom, and an hourglass figure were her shining glories. But she’ d also been blessed with a pair of traffic-stopping dark brown, almond-shape eyes.

Elena’ s only consolation to being the less attractive sister was that everyone said they looked so much alike, she knew she wasn’ t exactly an ugly duckling herself.

It also helped that Alandra was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. There was nothing she wouldn’ t do for someone, and the more they needed, the more she was willing to give. Personally, financially, it didn’ t matter.

She attended four or five fund-raising dinners a week, just like the one she was getting ready for now, and just as many lunches. She belonged to every “ good cause” organization in the state, a few across the country, and a few more internationally: battered women and kids, underprivileged children, life-saving medical research, save the whales, save the wild mustangs, save shelter cats and dogs from euthanasia.