Sleeping with the Enemy's Daughter (2 page)

Sleeping with the Enemy's Daughter

by Nadia Aidan

it back. She had been so worried that with the bad blood between their families they would simply refuse to sell.

"How much? How much do I owe you?"

"It's not an amount."

She shook her head, puzzled. "I don't understand."

"It's not money we want from you."

"Then how am I supposed to pay you back for the ranch?

It's worth almost three million dollars. What could I possibly give you that would compensate for the amount you paid?"

"Yourself."

Her eyes widened, not quite comprehending Jacob's statement. "Huh?"

"
You
are the payment, Camille." His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She stared up at them, the cold expressionless masks that were their faces. A soft gasp ripped past her lips when Jacob's words finally penetrated the fog that had settled in her brain. They were serious. They wanted
her
as payment!

"P—payment how? In what capacity?" She swallowed the lump in her throat. Maybe they wanted her to be their housekeeper, because the alternative was infinitely more terrifying than the thought of scrubbing their floors and doing their dirty laundry for an eternity.

Jacob's eyes flashed with impatience.

"What do you think, Camille?
You
are the payment." She shook her head in protest, but he ignored her.

"For six months you will serve all of our sexual needs in any way
we
see fit. You are to be available to service us at any time, and any place." She had to restrain herself from 13

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by Nadia Aidan

rearing back in shock when she glimpsed the tiny flash of desire in his eyes.

"If you comply with our demands for the entire time, then the ranch is yours."

She stood there stunned. Yet the shock was quickly replaced by fury.

"Absolutely not! I have a
job
gentleman and it does
not
include being your twenty-four hour mistress. Those terms are unacceptable—"

"This is not up for negotiation. This is the
only
offer we are making. You can either take it, or lose your ranch for good," Jeff said.

She whirled around to stare at Jeff, the third oldest, surprised by his boldness. But then again he
was
a Downing so what had she truly expected?

"We were under the impression that as an advice columnist and freelance writer, you work mostly from home." She slid her gaze to Jason, the youngest, and shot angry daggers from her eyes at him for his insinuation. A bitter chuckle escaped her lips.

"So you think because I work at home, that I having nothing but endless amounts of time to play your
mistress?
" She asked in a shrill voice.

Silence.

That's
exactly
what they thought. Her body trembled with barely contained rage as she met their arrogant gazes. They were
insane.

"You know what, gentleman. This has been an interesting—"

14

Sleeping with the Enemy's Daughter

by Nadia Aidan

"You have two days, Camille," Jacob interrupted. "Two days to accept our offer."

Her eyes narrowed to angry slits. "And if I don't?"

"Then you forfeit any future rights to your ranch. We already own it, Camille. This is your last chance to get it back."

If she'd been closer she would have slapped him. She already
knew
they owned it—that's why she was there in the
first
damned place.

"Two days, Camille," he repeated before nodding towards the door.

She was dismissed.

Simmering with rage, she lifted her chin higher into the air, trying to muster the last vestiges of dignity she still possessed. She spun on her heel and stomped angrily towards the door. Flinging it open with a hard bang, she moved to exit the room, but stopped instead. Twisting her head around, she fixed them each with a chilly glare.

"Fuck you. Fuck all of you," she shouted, before she slammed the door behind her.

She paused when she heard a soft thump from the other side of the door.

Ah, the sound of another expensively framed picture tumbling from the mantle. This time she didn't even
try
to hide her smile.

* * * *

Shoving her mouth full of Krispy Kreme doughnuts probably wasn't the wisest move, considering she was trying 15

Sleeping with the Enemy's Daughter

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to lose weight, but she couldn't stop herself. Her meeting with the Downing brothers had sent her spiralling towards meltdown and it was either binge and pay later, or grab a gun and march back over to their ranch. She figured grabbing a doughnut would keep her out of jail, but definitely not out of Weight Watchers.

She leaned back in her kitchen chair and closed her eyes. Chewing vigorously, she savoured the sticky glaze of the sweet treat. Not for the first time she wondered what the hell the Downing brothers
really
wanted with her, because functioning as their full time mistress certainly wasn't it. It was laughable really. They were four of the handsomest, wealthiest, and most eligible bachelors in all of Texas. Their mixed Spanish, native, and Irish heritage had proved the perfect combination for them, because they were so devastatingly handsome that it was almost nauseating. Evenly spaced two years apart with Jacob being the oldest at thirty-seven and Jason the youngest at thirty-one, the resemblance was so striking that it was impossible not to notice they were brothers.

She shoved another doughnut between her lips and moaned. As delighted as she was to binge on the over priced, high fat doughnuts, even her favourite treat couldn't distract her for very long. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why they didn't just let her pay them for the ranch in
money.
She had money, but with the loss of her ranch she was no longer considered truly wealthy, although that's not what really mattered to her. Even after she got it back she still didn't plan to live off of the revenues any more than she had 16

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since becoming an adult. She wanted the ranch back because of what it symbolised,
not
because of the money it generated. Shaking her head, she blew out a deep, ragged breath. She just couldn't put her finger on it. They could have any woman they wanted and yet they pretended they wanted her. It was a cruel joke, and she knew it.

At thirty-five she held no illusions regarding her limitations and failures. Her ex-husband had made sure she knew
exactly
how lacking she was. He had been cut from the same cloth as the Downings—wealthy, educated, powerful and handsome. Her father had practically forced her to marry him, even though he knew they didn't love each other. She now wished she'd had the guts to stand up to her father back then. If she had, then maybe she wouldn't have spent five years in a loveless marriage with a man who when he wasn't ridiculing her for her lack of physical beauty he was too busy screwing around on her with women who were all the things she wasn't.

It may have taken her five years to work up the nerve to leave Marcus, but she was proud that she managed to do it. If she hadn't, she would have missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime. A year after her divorce she'd been offered a fellowship to study writing at Trinity College in Dublin, and she didn't hesitate to seize the opportunity. As Jason had pointed out she
could
write her column from anywhere, and she had. She'd spent two years in Dublin splitting her time between writing her column and earning her Masters. The experience had been invaluable for so many reasons, but 17

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mainly because it offered her the chance to heal and reclaim her sense of self worth.

"And now they're trying to threaten my hard earned confidence," she gritted out between bites. Letting out a sigh, she stood and dragged herself to the full length mirror in the hallway of the apartment she'd been forced to rent. Still dressed in her suit, she stared at her reflection. She was all right. Her russet coloured hair danced about her shoulders, and curled down to her upper back, complimenting her smooth mahogany complexion. She tilted her head to study her face more closely. Framed by long lashes, her almond shaped topaz eyes, winked back at her from above her high cheekbones which drew attention to her full lips. She'd always been described as cute, which she guessed was better than the alternative. But she was no beauty. She stepped back to look at the total package. She could stand to lose a few pounds, okay
several
pounds, but she wasn't
bad
. Still, she knew under her flattering suit, she carried pockets of fat and cellulite in more places than she wanted to contemplate.

She wondered how the perfectly made Downing brothers, with their flawless faces, and chiselled physiques would react to her less than perfect figure
and
face. She abruptly turned from the mirror to plop back down in her chair. She couldn't care less what those arrogant assholes thought of her.
If
she decided to accept their absurd and ridiculous agreement then it would be their own damn faults if they weren't satisfied with what they got. They could have sold her the damn ranch like normal human beings!

18

Sleeping with the Enemy's Daughter

by Nadia Aidan

* * * *

Jacob poured himself a shot of brandy into the glass snifter and swirled it around for several seconds before knocking it back in a single gulp. He winced as the warm liquid burned a trail down his throat to settle in his belly. Setting the glass aside, he turned from his office window and flopped down in his desk chair.

Dragging a hand across his face, he released a long breath. "What the hell did you do?" He asked himself for the hundredth time. Ever since Camille Douglas had stormed angrily from his home he'd questioned the wisdom of the ultimatum he'd issued her.

If his father were alive he'd be furious with him for putting Camille in such a compromising position. But he wasn't alive and he had Camille's mother to thank for that. Rage coursed through his veins as he curled his hands into angry fists. Every time he thought of Adel Douglas, blinding anger gripped him.

The affair between his father and Camille's mother had begun a few years after the death of his own mother. His father didn't think anyone knew, neither one of them did, but everyone in all of Macon knew. Adel's affair with his father stretched on for years, until it was no longer a secret to anyone.

Naturally, Adel's husband, Earl, developed a burning hatred towards his father and the entire Downing clan, which became the source of the bitter feud between the two families, a feud that turned particularly nasty after the death 19

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of Adel. Jacob was certain that the stress from learning of Adel's betrayal after her death, along with the cutthroat tactics of Earl Douglas to undermine his ranching business, had killed his father. Camille's parents ruined his entire life, and his father had died because Adel betrayed him and broke his heart.

Over the years, his brothers had moved on, entertaining the possibility that maybe Adel was innocent, but Jacob didn't believe that for one second, which was why he'd devoted the last two years of his life to acquiring the fledging Douglas ranch. He only wished Earl Douglas was still alive to see that despite all of his lying, scheming and cheating, he could no more keep his ranch out of the hands of the Downings, than he could keep his wife.

Jacob relished the thought that his precious daughter would soon be added to the list. If the old man had been alive he would have surely died had he learned of the proposition he'd issued to Camille.

A wry smile crossed his face at that thought as he stood and poured himself another glass of brandy. This time he sipped on it slowly as his thoughts drifted from Earl Douglas to his daughter.

"Ahhh, yes, the lovely, untouchable, perfect Camille," he murmured sarcastically as he glowered at the glass he held in his hand.

He'd known Camille all his life, but always from a distance. They'd attended the same schools, lived in the same social circle, even shared some of the same friends, but their contact with each other had always been limited. Jacob 20

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suspected because her father feared that his family would use her as a pawn to manipulate him. He was sure she'd been warned repeatedly to stay away from those
evil
Downing brothers. No matter what her father had said, she had certainly listened. When she wasn't avoiding him entirely, she'd always treated him with cool distain. He'd always gotten the distinct impression that she thought he was beneath her. He chuckled bitterly. Her blood probably ran cold at the thought of having to sleep with a Downing, as if she would sully herself by the very act. Despite a valiant attempt not to let his thoughts stray in that direction, an image of Camille entwined in his arms, her lush nude body glistening with a sheen of sweat, unwittingly popped into his head, causing a low groan to escape his lips. His mood soured as he downed the rest of his brandy. He was attracted to her. He'd been fighting it ever since she'd come back to Macon, but it was hard to ignore that the rail thin girl he'd remembered had blossomed into a beautiful, voluptuous woman.

"Life father, like son," he muttered dryly. What was it about the Douglas women that drew men—Downing men especially.

Before she'd returned he'd had no plans to sell her ranch to
anyone.
He'd taken the Douglas land. He'd gotten his revenge. Then he'd caught a glimpse of her one evening while he was in town purchasing supplies for the ranch, and in that moment everything had changed. The feud wasn't over. He wouldn't be satisfied until he took everything from the Douglas family—including their virtuous daughter—
especially
their daughter.