Читать книгу Blackmailed Into His Arms - Маргарет Майо - Страница 13

Six

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The next morning Chase got up even earlier than usual, slipping out of the bedroom while Elena was still asleep. He closed the connecting doors so nothing he said would be overheard, then set about rescheduling his appointments for the day. It wasn’t an easy task, considering most of the meetings had been set up weeks in advance and it was earlier than most of his associates’ offices opened.

But by the time Elena made an appearance—once again wearing the short, sexy green nightie and matching robe that accentuated the emerald of her eyes—his day was clear and he was ready to put his plan into motion.

Although he was chomping at the bit to get going, he tried his best to act normal. He sipped his coffee and read the paper. When she pressed him to eat breakfast, he grumbled, but managed to down a couple of sausage patties and half of the western omelet she transferred from her plate to his.

An hour later, he rose from the table and repeated his speech from the day before, telling her he would be busy until dinnertime and that she should go out and have fun, at his expense. He handed her the same gold card and pile of cash she’d left on the dresser yesterday.

Out in the hall, he took the elevator to the lobby, but instead of leaving the hotel the way he normally would, he found a spot behind a bank of slot machines where he could keep an eye on the entrance without being seen.

He waited longer than he’d expected, checking his watch every few minutes. It took more than an hour for Elena to finally step off the elevator and head for the revolving doors leading outside.

She wore brown chunky heels, loose linen slacks the color of sunflowers and a form-fitting top with renaissance sleeves. Dark-tinted sunglasses were perched atop her head, and she carried a good size tan tote on one shoulder.

Hopping up from his stool, Chase followed her, staying a fair distance behind so she wouldn’t spot him. She stopped on the sidewalk, pulling the sunglasses down to shade her eyes from the bright mid-morning sun as she glanced in both directions, then started walking.

It seemed to Chase that they strolled down the street for an awfully long time. The sidewalks were already crowded, tourists flooding in and out of casinos and storefronts. Perspiration beaded his brow and pooled inside his thousand-dollar designer suit.

He was no stranger to working up a sweat, having grown up on a working ranch in Texas, where it could get just as hot as Nevada. Even though he’d chosen a different path and had more money than Croesus, he still enjoyed spending the day helping his parents or brother on their connecting properties. Currying horses, shucking hay, fixing fences … He just didn’t usually do any of those things in a fine Italian suit that cost more than his brother’s favorite saddle.

If Elena didn’t get to where she was going soon, he was going to give up and flag down a taxi to take him back to the Wynn.

Almost as soon as he thought it, she turned into a storefront. He stayed outside, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the giant plate glass windows.

So she was shopping, after all, he thought. The confusing part was that it wasn’t a fancy boutique, didn’t carry shoes or jewelry or designer clothes. It was a candy and toy store, full of fun, colorful products that would have had any child squealing with joy.

Elena strolled up and down the aisles, studying the bins of candy and chocolate, the racks of water pistols, action figures and plastic princess jewelry. When a clerk came up to her, she smiled and started pointing at certain items, nodding when the woman seemed to understand what she was interested in.

What the heck was she doing? Chase wondered. He adjusted his own sunglasses and tried to get a better look without being tagged as a stalker.

He watched as she stacked toys on the checkout counter, the other woman filling bags with assorted candies at Elena’s instruction. By the time they finished, her pile would have put Willy Wonka and his legendary Chocolate Factory to shame.

The clerk scanned everything, rang up the total and Elena handed over a credit card. But it wasn’t a gold one, so it obviously wasn’t his.

Rather than take plastic bags with the store’s logo on them, she put everything into her own tan tote, thanked the woman behind the counter with a wave and headed back toward the street.

Chase whipped around and hurried to the storefront right next door. This time, she flagged down a cab, and he suffered a moment of panic worrying he might lose her. Then, when he caught a taxi of his own, he felt like the headliner of a bad action movie, ordering the driver, “Follow that car!” The hundred-dollar bill Chase flashed kept the driver from commenting or looking at him as though he had a few screws loose.

Several minutes later, they pulled up in front of a large gray brick building surrounded by a tall chain-link fence. Chase watched from half a block away as Elena got out of her cab and slipped through the closed gate. He asked his driver to wait, then hurried along to see just what she was up to.

He didn’t have to go far. She hadn’t actually gone into the building after passing through the gate, but was seated on the bench seat of a red plastic picnic table at the edge of what looked like a school’s play yard.

Staying back, he watched kids of all ages crowding around her, and she was smiling and laughing, making a point of reaching out to touch each one on the head, the cheek, the arm.

Something lurched deep in his gut at the sight of her looking so happy. She was talking, teasing, her hands moving a mile a minute, then reaching into her bag for the things she’d bought at the store.

It took him a moment to realize the children weren’t as noisy as he would have expected, and that Elena’s animated hand motions weren’t simply a side effect of her exuberant mood.

She was speaking in sign language. The children bustling around her couldn’t hear. Chase looked around and his eyes lit on the sign on the front of the building that labeled it a school for the deaf. Yet Elena was interacting with them as easily as she would anyone else … perhaps better.

Oh, no, he didn’t want to see this. Didn’t even want to know about it.

He spun around, glancing at the taxi waiting for him at the curb, then turned back.

The kids loved her, loved the goodies she’d brought them, loved the attention.

And he hated it, because the entire situation was living, breathing proof that Elena wasn’t the same shallow, vapid girl he’d known nearly twenty years ago.

His mind in turmoil, he whirled around again and stormed to the cab, ordering the driver to take him back to the hotel. He fumed the whole way, stopping just short of ranting to himself and removing any doubt from the cabbie’s mind that he was a few quarters short of a roll.

He didn’t want to deal with any of this, didn’t want to see Elena as a sweet, thoughtful woman who knew sign language and would choose to spend her days in Las Vegas entertaining a group of differently-abled children rather than shopping and running up his credit card bill.

Had he ever met another woman who would do the same? His mother and sister-in-law, maybe, but they didn’t count.

What was he going to say to Elena when she got back tonight? He didn’t think he could look at her the same as he had that morning. Or touch her without remembering the sight of her with those children.

Because Chase had been so upset the day before when she’d returned a little late from her outing, Elena made a point of getting back early this time. She was hot and sticky and looking forward to taking a quick shower before she needed to start getting ready for dinner.

To her surprise, the suite was empty when she got there. She’d expected to find Chase at the desk, clacking away at his laptop, or in the bedroom getting dressed. Instead, as she checked each room and even called for him, he was nowhere to be found. And he hadn’t left a note to let her know where he was or when he’d be back … at least none she could find.

Well, maybe he was still working or one of his appointments had run long.

She dropped her tote in a corner, left her sunglasses on the narrow kitchenette countertop and headed for the bathroom.

Half an hour later, she emerged fresh and clean, with one towel wrapped around her wet hair and another tucked above her breasts. She was humming, off in her own little world, and didn’t realize Chase was in the room until she glanced up and saw him standing on the other side of the wide, neatly made bed.

She jumped, pressing a hand to her heart. “Good Lord, you scared me,” she said with a light laugh.

A little thrill went through her at the sight of him. He looked more handsome than any man had a right to be in his navy suit, his dark hair smoothly styled, a splash of color spilling down his chest from his tie. She was even getting used to his intense blue eyes and unsmiling mouth.

“You should have knocked on the bathroom door or given a yell when you got back so I’d know you were here.” Moving to the dresser, she started opening and closing drawers, pulling out an assortment of underclothes. “I won’t be long. I was just about to get ready.”

“Don’t bother.”

His words, as well as the coldness in his tone, gave her pause. She stopped what she was doing, a pair of diaphanous black, French-cut panties dangling from her fingertips.

“Excuse me?” she said, telling herself not to let her imagination run away with her.

Chase Ramsey wasn’t exactly the warmest person she’d ever met—he might have had a bad meeting and was taking his lousy mood out on her.

“We have another dinner tonight, right? Don’t you want me to dress to the nines and impress all your business associates?” She grinned and twitched her hips seductively.

His expression didn’t change. He still looked like he was contemplating something particularly unsavory.

“I have a dinner meeting,” he finally replied, his voice like a splash of ice water on her already wet and chilled body. “Your presence isn’t required.”

He rounded the bed, leaving enough space for a tractor trailer to park between them as he passed. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

She stood where she was, stunned by his announcement and abrupt departure. From the other room, she heard the door of the suite open and then slam shut, and knew she was alone.

Why in heaven’s name would Chase suddenly decide that he didn’t need her with him, when that was his sole reason for blackmailing her and bringing her along?

And what was with his attitude? He could be a hard man, distant and cruel at times. At least with her; she didn’t know how he acted with his family or friends. But she also knew why he treated her that way, and that—in his mind—she deserved it.

But lately, since they’d been here in Las Vegas, sharing this enormous, lavish suite, he’d been different. She’d thought that he was beginning to soften toward her, that they were beginning to connect.

And, she admitted, she’d begun to develop feelings for him.

She wouldn’t go so far as to say she was in love with him, since she wasn’t sure it was possible to be in love with a man whose mind was set on revenge against her. But she had started to be kind of glad he’d manipulated her into becoming his lover. She doubted they ever would have gotten together otherwise, and now that she’d spent so much time alone with him, she realized she wouldn’t be opposed to a relationship with him.

Chase apparently had other ideas. From the way he’d treated her just now, it seemed he not only didn’t want her to accompany him to dinner, but might not want her around anymore at all.

Swallowing hard, she let the barely-there panties fall back in the drawer and slammed it closed. Then she marched into the bathroom, dropped the towels from her hair and chest and shrugged into one of the big, fluffy terry cloth robes the hotel provided.

She’d never worn one of them before, opting instead for the sexier sleep sets she’d brought along. Everything she’d packed was sexy, because that was what she’d thought Chase would want.

Well, to hell with him. From now on, she would go for comfort, wear what she wanted, without a thought to his likes or dislikes.

It’s not as though he would be touching her again, anyway. If he so much as tried, she’d break his wrist and kick him where it hurt.

Stalking into the sitting room, she grabbed the room service menu, found about twelve things that sounded appetizing, and ordered them all. Ha! She might not have used the credit card he gave her, but she sure would run up his room charges.

She spent the rest of the evening curled up on the overstuffed sofa, stuffing her face and flipping through channels on the television. Nothing seemed to catch her interest, and no amount of food seemed to fill the hole burning in her gut.

It was close to nine o’clock when she heard the scraping of the key card on the other side of the door. Her stomach lurched and every muscle in her body tensed as she prepared herself to face Chase.

It was the last thing she wanted. For a brief second, she considered running for the bathroom and locking herself in. But that would be the coward’s way out, and she didn’t want to be a coward. She just didn’t want to deal with him again any time in the near future.

The door opened, then closed, and she heard him moving across the carpeted room in her direction. It took all of her willpower not to turn her head and scowl at him, but she kept her attention on the TV, pretending to be deeply absorbed in the crime drama playing on the screen.

The closer Chase got to the sofa, the more her skin tingled, every hair standing on end. And still she refused to acknowledge him.

“Elena,” he said after a moment.

His voice was tight and clipped, but she refused to respond.

“Elena,” he repeated, more softly this time. “Won’t you at least look at me?”

She clenched her teeth to keep from saying something truly scathing, and instead punched the remote control to turn up the volume a couple more notches.

“Dammit, Elena.” Chase leaned down, entering her vision for the first time, and snatched the remote from her hand. He tossed it onto the seat of a nearby chair, well out of her reach.

Barely managing to hold on to her temper, she slid her folded legs off the couch and stood, moving away from him to skirt the low coffee table. She made it just a few feet from the bedroom door before he stopped her by grabbing her arm.

She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, only to have him spin her around, pin her to the nearest wall with his imposing bulk and mash his lips to hers.

With a moan of outrage, she pushed at his shoulders, turned from side to side trying to wiggle away. He merely tightened his hold until his hard chest pressed against the growing tautness of her nipples, his strong thighs trapping hers.

And then the pressure of his mouth changed. Lightening, growing more cajoling than demanding. She moaned again, this time in surrender.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer rather than attempting to push him away, and her leg snaked up to wrap around one of his. His hands spanned her waist as he tore his mouth away, his lips moving to her chin, her throat, the curve of her ear.

“I’m sorry,” he panted, the words vibrating over her skin and into her bones. “I acted like an ass earlier. I was in a bad mood and took it out on you. I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry.”

Her brain was turning to liquid, as was the rest of her body. She could barely remember what he’d said to her all those hours ago, let alone how upset she’d been with him afterward.

“Forgive me?”

His fingers fumbled with the thick belt of her robe, getting it open and pushing apart the edges of the heavy terry cloth. She was naked beneath and the cool air of the suite washed over her rapidly heating flesh. He fastened his mouth on the straining tip of one breast and she whimpered, digging her fingers into his hair to hold him in place.

How could she deny him when he made her blood flow like molten lava and drove every rational thought from her head?

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Yes, yes.”

He moved to her other breast and she gasped, letting her head fall back against the wall as sensation after sensation washed over her. Reaching between them, he quickly undid his pants and lifted her legs around his waist, filling her in one long, strong stroke.

Biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out, Elena crossed her ankles behind his back, arched her back in an attempt to get even closer to him and let the ripples of pleasure wash over her.

He was so powerful. So confident and masculine and … incredible. No one had ever had such a profound effect on her before. And she doubted anyone ever would again.

Chase’s breathing sounded in her ear, heavy and harsh to match her own. It took only moments for the intensity to build, for the desire spiraling in her belly to grow almost unbearable and for her to shatter into a million little pieces, taking Chase over the precipice with her into ecstasy.

They clung to each other, gasping for air, then slowly slid down the wall to the floor in a tangle of limbs and disheveled clothes.

Several minutes later, his chest rumbled with a low chuckle. He shifted slightly, moving into a more comfortable position and bringing her with him to rest in the crook of his arm. “Guess I understand now why make-up sex has such a stellar reputation. Maybe later, we can get into another fight and do that again.”

She gave an exhausted, wheezing laugh, positive she would never have enough energy to argue or make love with quite that much exuberance again. She’d be surprised if she could even manage to walk on her own two legs before early next week.

Blackmailed Into His Arms

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