Enslaved

Romance Unbound Publishing

Presents

Claire Thompson

Edited by Jae Ashley

Cover Art by Kelly Shorten

Ebook ISBN
9781937337339

Copyright 2011 Claire Thompson

All rights reserved

“That fucking little cunt.”

Sam Ryker narrowed his eyes as he stared at the numbers on the computer screen and back again at the statement the banker had just faxed to him. Cold fury snaked its way through him, nearly obscuring the heat of a deeper hurt beneath it.

He closed his eyes, seizing the anger roiling within his brain in a mental fist and forcing it under control. Swiveling toward the window of the tiny office, he stared, unseeing, at the Manhattan skyline.

Maybe he was jumping to conclusions without having all the facts. Could it be a simple matter of a mistake in the numbers? Or did she have an explanation for the ten percent difference in what she claimed the bank charged for his two million dollar line of credit, a line that had been fully extended for the past eight months since she’d arranged it for him?

He’d brought Rae Johansen onboard to handle the financial side of his fledgling software company so he could focus on the product and the customers. He’d paid her when he couldn’t pay himself, using every bit of his savings, relying on her, trusting her. They’d worked well together. She’d freed him from the annoying day-to-day details so he could focus on the core business. She’d had his back, or so he’d thought.

I would have found a way to help you, Rae. If you’d told me you needed it…

But life rarely worked out that way, did it? He would have given her his heart too, but she wasn’t interested. The first time he’d laid eyes on her, he’d wanted her. Maybe that was his first mistake—letting his cock get in the way of his brain.

Sam closed his eyes, letting the image of Rae lying naked on his sheets flow into his mind. Those cobalt blue eyes flecked with bronze, the dark hair in a tumble around her face, the curve of her breast, the rope on her slender wrists binding her to the headboard as he loomed over her, plunging his cock into the soft, tight heat of her wet cunt…

He’d misjudged her desires, her readiness to submit. Or, more accurately, he’d judged her desire correctly—she wanted what he offered. She
needed
it. He could see it in the hunger in her eyes, the clench of her fingers and gasp of her breath—but she’d been scared. Scared not so much of him or what he offered, but of her own reaction to it. His mistake had been that he’d moved too fast. He’d wanted her too much and he’d paid the price.

Sam Ryker wasn’t the type of man to go where he wasn’t welcome. When she’d pulled back, he’d let her go. At the time, he’d told himself it was probably for the best. Everyone knew you shouldn’t mix work with pleasure. Though it took a few weeks to work through the awkwardness on both sides, they’d managed to move on. They were both professional enough not to let their brief fling interfere with things.

If he still dreamed of her at night, his cock fisted in his hand, images of her naked and at his mercy streaming through his mind, it was forgotten by morning. The complex and absorbing programming code and the daily challenge of growing his business were more than enough distraction. A relationship would have only complicated matters. It was better this way.

Liar.

He returned his attention to the computer monitor, still struggling to come to terms with the evidence that stared him in the face. Yeah, he got it that she hadn’t wanted to explore the Pandora’s box of her own submissive sexuality when that particular lid was lifted, but he never dreamed she would take advantage of the trust he’d placed in her professionally.

If Rae were anyone else, he wouldn’t have hesitated to call the police and have her arrested on the spot. But she wasn’t anyone else. Even though it had been just the one time, Rae had left a part of herself like a shard of glass lodged painfully in his heart, despite the scar tissue of time that covered it. What he still wouldn’t give to have her in his bed again, or on her knees at his feet, looking up at him with those luminous dark blue eyes…

“She needs to be taught a lesson,” he said softly, as a delicious and dangerous idea edged its way into his head. “She needs to be punished.”

Sam glanced at his watch. It was only seven-thirty in the morning. Too bad. What he had to say couldn’t wait. He hit the speed dial on his BlackBerry and lifted it to his ear.

“Hey, Sam.” Her voice, low and husky, stroked his senses as it always did, like fingers playing over his skin. Her tone was relaxed and easy. She had no idea she’d been busted.

“There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“No. In person. When can you get here?”

“Hey, I’ve barely had my coffee. Can it wait until later in the day? Want to send me an email with the details? What do you need? If it’s about the quarterly tax payment, I’ve already got—”

“No,” Sam interrupted. “It can’t wait. I want you here. Now.”

“What’s the topic?” she pressed. “That way I can prepare—”

“We’ll discuss it when you get here.”

There was a pause and Sam could almost feel her frown through the phone. She didn’t like it when he pulled rank. Or maybe she understood from his tone all was not well in paradise. Tough shit. He waited.

Finally she said, “Okay, Sam. I can be there in an hour. That work for you?”

“Like a charm.”

~*~

Rae opened her compact and checked her face in the tiny mirror as the subway hurtled beneath the city toward Sam’s building. Who did Sam think he was, ordering her to drop everything and head across town like his personal lackey? It was bad enough she had to work from home—his broom closet of an office might be at a prestigious Manhattan address, but it barely had room for his desk and three computers, much less another person. He paid her a decent salary, but still hadn’t come through with his promise to give her a stake in the company, even though they nearly had the
Ichi
deal in their pockets. Well, in
his
pocket.

Here he was, poised to earn tens of millions on the software deal with a prime Japanese company and he still put her off with vague promises. “I should never have slept with him,” she chided herself for the hundredth time. “It made him take me less seriously as a business partner.”

What a perv he’d turned out to be, into all that whips and chains crap! The bondage thing
had
been kind of exciting, if she were honest, but she wasn’t that kind of woman. No man told her what to do, not in the bedroom or out of it. No, it was better she’d nipped their personal relationship in the bud before things got out of hand.

Especially with what she’d been doing with the books.

She hated herself for it, but she hadn’t seen any other way out. Not without admitting she’d fucked up big time. She only needed a little more to finally extricate herself from that hideous, money-draining, loser real estate deal she’d let herself be talked into. She should have known it was too good to be true. She’d committed the cardinal sin in business—she’d let her greed get the better of her.

So far her arrangement had gone without a hitch and she was nearly home free. As soon as she could get the debt paid and the back taxes she owed taken care of, she’d never do anything like this again. She’d stay on the straight and narrow, and give her all to
Ryker Solutions
. She’d make it up to Sam by working her ass off. Maybe then he’d finally make her partner like he promised.

I want you here. Now.

He’d sounded pissed. Rae hugged herself as his words played back in her mind. He’d never summarily ordered her to drop everything and get her ass to the office like that before. Was he on to her? Was she going to get busted this close to the end? She shook away the thought.

Rae pushed through the crowded subway station and up the stairs to the street, where the heat hit her with a humid blast. She hurried down the block toward Sam’s office building and through the revolving doors.

Sam was too clueless when it came to finances. When he’d hired her he hadn’t even set up the company properly and was paying way too much in fees and taxes. He was one of those typical geeks who was brilliant at programming but could barely remember to pay his own bills. She’d spent months getting that side of his business straightened out and procuring the line of credit he needed for it to really take off.

He needed her. Without her, he would never have gotten the
Ichi
deal. Reminding herself of this, she smiled bravely at her image in the mirrored elevator door and squared her shoulders as it opened. With a determined stride, she moved down the hallway, the very picture of feminine competence.

With a perfunctory knock, she pushed open the door of
Ryker Solutions.
“I made it,” she announced, dropping her briefcase on one of the chairs in front of Sam’s desk and settling herself into the other. “Now, what’s so urgent it couldn’t be handled on the phone?”

Sam, who had been typing something on his keyboard, looked up slowly. In spite of her nervous anticipation, she felt her body react as he swept her with a fiery gaze. There was a kind of power in his face that she responded to on a gut level, even though intellectually she rejected it. It was that power, that easy arrogance, that had made her tumble into bed with him in the first place. It was that same power that had scared her and made her reject him out of hand.

Fortunately she was wearing one of her Xena Warrior bras, the kind with enough padding to hide her perking nipples. Ignoring the sudden warmth between her legs, she smoothed her face into a bland, inquiring smile and waited.

“What’s the interest rate on my line of credit?” Sam’s blue-grey eyes looked steely as he pinned her with his look.

Rae’s stomach gave an unpleasant lurch and she felt the pulse in her neck quicken. She kept her bland smile and pretended to think for a second. “Eighteen, but I’ve been working on getting you a lower rate. Now that the company’s got more of a track record—”

“Try again.”

“I’m sorry?” Rae’s heart was beating too fast. She felt almost faint.

“Not as sorry as you’re going to be, little girl.”

“Now, just a minute, nobody talks—“

“Save it, Rae. I’m onto you. Jerry Mitchell clued me in.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lied. Her mind was skittering like a rat tossed on the deck of a sinking ship. Desperately she tried to think, to come up with an excuse, but all she managed was, “Who’s Jerry Mitchell?”

“He’s a senior VP over at the bank. I happened to run into him at the golf course yesterday. He asked about the business, just shooting the breeze. He was surprised to hear I was paying such a high rate. Said he’d look into it for me come Monday. Called me this morning and said I was mistaken. Said the rate’s
eight
percent, not eighteen.”

Sam turned the monitor so Rae could see her own numbers, the false numbers she kept in case Sam had ever bothered to check. He pushed what looked like a bank statement across the desk toward her.

She opened her mouth to deny it, to protest, to make up a story, but no words came. She tried to swallow but her throat felt as if it were filled with rocks. He was watching her with a cold expression.

“There must be a mistake…” she finally managed to whisper.

He ignored this. “You owe me over a hundred thousand dollars. I’ll expect it by five o’clock this afternoon.”

Rae gripped her chair. This was insane. “I can’t—I didn’t…”

He stood, towering over her. “Don’t bother with your lies. It’s here in black and white. You’re busted. Get me the money or I call the cops.”

“Sam, please,” Rae said desperately. “Listen, I can explain.”

Sam glared at her a moment longer but then, thank god, he sat down. “Okay. I’m listening. Make it good.”

Rae closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. Did she tell him the truth? Would it make any difference? Aware she sounded defensive, she said, “You’d promised to give me a share in the company, in the profits. It’s been months since you promised. I’ve done really good work for you, Sam. I’ve busted my ass to get this company good credit and new customers—”

“By robbing me blind? You have rather peculiar ideas of how to manage a company’s finances. ” His voice was low, even menacing. She almost wished he’d yell instead, anything to this cold, hard way he was speaking. It chilled her to the bone.

“Talk to me, Rae. Tell me the truth.”

The
or else
was implicit in his words. Frightened, Rae admitted, “I—I got into some financial trouble. With a real estate deal I became involved with. It went sour and my business partner left me holding the bag. I’ve been trying like hell to get out of debt and move on. I was just—just borrowing the funds for a while, till I could get back on my feet.”