Blackmailed Into His Arms: Blackmailed into Bed / The Billionaire's Blackmail Bargain / Blackmailed For Her Baby

She wasn’t single-minded about it, thank goodness. Only the occasional question about his personal life or remark about his finding a “good woman” to let him know he was still on her radar.

He’d known that even before asking Elena to accompany him tonight. So why the hell had he gone through with it, anyway?

Because it was part of their agreement. She would go with him to meetings and dinners whenever he needed her, and he’d needed someone with him tonight.

That’s all there was to it, nothing more. The fact that his mother and father—and even his brother, apparently—were reading more into it was none of his concern.

Not that he hadn’t noticed how well she fit in with the rowdy bunch he called family. She hadn’t been overwhelmed by them, as he’d feared. Instead, she’d seemed to enjoy the boisterous camaraderie and had handled the many switches in conversation with ease.

Then again, what did he expect? Ever since he’d started spending time with her again, there wasn’t a situation he could think of where she’d been uncomfortable or out of place.

Perhaps he’d been testing her, tossing her into the middle of one of his family’s dinner gatherings to see if there was anything that caught her off guard. Or maybe he’d simply wanted her with him, wanted to share a part of his life with her that he hadn’t before.

Of course, it didn’t make him too happy to think that might be the case. If it was, he was in trouble. She was supposed to be his mistress … and only that because he wanted to exact a bit of revenge on her for the way she’d treated him in junior high.

A man didn’t usually bring his mistress home to meet his parents. And a man bent on revenge certainly didn’t look for ways to incorporate the subject of his vengeance more firmly into his life.

He threw back the last of his scotch at the same time his father stubbed out his cigar.

“She’s just a friend,” Chase repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. Heading for the front door, he stopped with his hand on the knob to turn back and fix his brother with a warning glare. “Leave it alone.”

As interrogations went, Elena supposed the one with Chase’s mother and sister-in-law wasn’t so bad. It had started with, “So, tell me how you came to be dating my son,” but hadn’t gone much farther than that.

Elena had explained that she wasn’t dating Chase, that they were really just friends and business acquaintances. And Theresa Ramsey was savvy enough to realize her son wasn’t a topic Elena cared to discuss, so she’d quickly moved into less personal, less dangerous territory.

They’d talked about Chase’s and her trip to Vegas, but only in the vaguest of terms. About Chase’s company, Ramsey Corporation, and how he’d built it from the ground up all on his own. About Elena’s family—but again, only in the vaguest of terms—since Elena didn’t particularly want to remind Theresa of the Christmas party they had attended where she had been so rude and cruel to Chase. And finally, about how Emma and Mitch had met—as children—and then ended up falling in love and getting married so many years later.

It was a lovely story, one that brought tears to Elena’s eyes. For a moment, it almost made her believe true love existed and that fate could take a hand in a person’s life, even if things had gotten off to a rocky start.

But what was she thinking? That some unseen force would reach down and bring her and Chase together?

Who was she trying to kid? Even if he found her physically irresistible … even if their current relationship lasted much longer than originally intended … she didn’t think he would ever be able to get past what she’d done to him all those years ago.

She didn’t blame him, but she did wish things could be different.

If only she hadn’t been such a spoiled, arrogant brat as a teenager.

If only they had met again as adults with clean slates and no ugly baggage from their pasts.

Then, maybe they would have actually had a shot at making things work.

But the way it stood now, she knew they didn’t. She also knew that when the time came for them to call it quits, a little part of her heart would break off and travel with him wherever he went.

Her chest tightened and her eyes began to dampen again. She quickly swallowed and took a deep breath, hoping her companions wouldn’t notice the sudden rush of emotion that threatened to close her throat.

To her left, the front door creaked open and she welcomed the sudden distraction as Chase entered the room, followed by his brother and father.

Chase, she noticed, was carrying an empty tumbler and moved directly to the bar. For a moment, he hesitated, apparently contemplating a refill. But then he set his glass down and walked away.

Moving to the sofa, he took a seat at her side while his brother did the same beside his wife, so that the two women were at the ends with the two men sandwiched between them.

Rather than sit down, Isaac took up position behind his wife’s chair. Close enough, Elena noticed, to play the part of the loving husband, but far enough away that Theresa wasn’t likely to comment if she noticed the scent of cigar smoke lingering on his breath or clothes. To cover her grin, Elena lifted a hand to her mouth and pretended to cough.

For the next half hour, the six of them made small talk. Thankfully, the conversation completely avoided the topic of Chase’s and her relationship.

And then it was time to leave. Chase stood, holding a hand out to her to help her to her feet, and everyone else followed suit.

Theresa and Emma both hugged Elena while Isaac and Mitch shook her hand and wished her well. She was invited to come back any time, and she promised that she would, even though she suspected such an event would never actually take place.

In the car, Elena waited until Chase had started the engine and turned down the driveway before leaning against the headrest and releasing a long breath. The bright headlights created twin streaks of yellow along the dirt lane.

“Tired?” Chase asked, glancing in her direction before returning his attention to the road.

“Not really,” she answered honestly. She was, but only because she’d been so nervous and tense about meeting his family to begin with. With the anxiety behind her, she suddenly felt like a blown-up balloon pricked by a pin and allowed to expel its air all at once. “I was just thinking about how nice your family is. Thank you for introducing them to me.”

A beat of heavy silence passed, then he said, “They liked you, too.”

She smiled in the darkness. “I’m glad.”

He turned on the radio and the soft strains of a classical CD filled the space around them. Neither of them spoke another word until they neared her house.

At a stop sign, Chase stopped. Only when they remained there for longer than Elena thought was necessary did she look at him, brows drawn together in an unspoken query. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel and he didn’t meet her gaze.

“I can take you home,” he said slowly. “Or you can come back to my place with me.”

Her stomach jumped and every inch of her skin broke out in gooseflesh, tingling as though she’d just been touched by a live wire.

She licked her lips, her mouth gone dry. “I … can go home with you, I guess,” she told him in a soft voice.

His only response was a tight nod. Then, instead of turning right as he would have to drop her off, he went straight, toward his own home.

She’d never given much thought to where he lived. Whenever she pictured him in his own environment, it was his office, behind his desk, as he’d been that first time she’d gone to plead her father’s case. Aside from that, she supposed she’d always assumed he lived in an apartment somewhere, perhaps a penthouse on the top floor of the Ramsey Corporation office building.

A man like Chase—single, wealthy, independent—wouldn’t need much space. Just a bedroom, bathroom, small kitchen and of course an office where he could work.

So her jaw nearly dropped when he turned into an upscale housing development and stopped in the driveway of a gorgeous, sprawling two-story brick home.

“This is your house?” she asked as he cut the engine, not bothering to hide her awe.

He sat back in his seat, offering a wry smile. “Yeah, why? Did you think I lived at some cheap hotel? Or maybe sleep at my desk at work?”

She flushed at just how close his guess was to what she’d been thinking and was glad it was too dark for him to see.

“No,” she denied, “I just didn’t realize you owned your own house. It’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you. Though it’s not quite the mansion you grew up in, I know.”

He opened his door and stepped out and she followed suit.

“Yes, well, even I admit Pop went a bit overboard when he built it. He was the first member of his family to really make something of himself, and I think he confused the house from Gone with the Wind with the average American dream.”

That earned her a chuckle and she joined in as he led her up the moonlit path to the front door. Reaching around the jamb, he flipped a switch. Light flooded the foyer and part of the front yard from a massive chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling where dozens of crystal teardrops twinkled brightly.

“Would you like a tour?”

She nodded eagerly, already fascinated by the little she’d seen.

He showed her the den, kitchen and family room, and stood in front of a set of wide French doors at the back of the house as he described the patio and lawn that she couldn’t see much of in the muted illumination from the house. There was also an indoor pool and workout room, two things even her father’s sizeable estate couldn’t boast.

Then he led her upstairs and pointed out several beautifully decorated guest rooms, as well as a central restroom that didn’t look as though it was used very often.

At the end of the hall stood the master bedroom, easily twice as large as any of the others, and done in dark, masculine tones. The bed was a giant four poster made of mahogany and covered with a comforter of forest green and navy blue swirls. On either side of the bed stood two-drawer nightstands carved of the same wood and with the same design as the bedposts, and holding matching wrought iron lamps. A doorway to the right of the bed led to the master bath, with a sunken whirlpool tub, a separate shower and two sinks set into a long marble countertop.

As though she wasn’t impressed enough already, he informed her that he’d overseen both the design and decoration of the entire house. The man had great taste, she admitted, more than a little surprised by just how luxurious and tasteful his home was.

It was a shame, though, that he lived there alone. Such a large place seemed wasted on only one person.

“So,” he murmured, “would you like a glass of wine, or something else to drink?”

They were still standing in the middle of the bedroom, but while she had felt completely comfortable a moment ago, she was suddenly faced with an attack of nerves. Her reason for being in his home, alone with him, this late at night flashed back to her and her heart gave a tiny flip.

“No, thank you,” she said softly with a shake of her head. She’d had two glasses of chardonnay at his parents’ house. Any more and her head might start to get fuzzy.

Her fingers worked distractedly on the strap of her purse as she added, “I should call my sister, though. Let her know I’m going to be late.”

He nodded, then pointed to the cordless phone charging on one of the nightstands. “Help yourself.”

Striding to the walk-in closet at the far side of the room, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it in the jungle of other suit jackets.

“If you’d like,” he said as she was dialing, “you can tell her I’ll bring you home in the morning.” Cocking his head in her direction, he shot her a glance filled with sultry and seductive meaning. “That is, if you’d like to stay the night.”

Ten

Elena inhaled deeply and stretched, her toes curling into the soft Egyptian cotton sheets, her arms reaching over her head until her fingers bumped the mahogany headboard.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well. Of course, she and Chase had worn themselves out pretty well before finally drifting off sometime after midnight.

At the sound of movement in the room, she opened her eyes and sat up, clutching the covers to her chest. Chase wasn’t beside her in the gigantic four poster bed, but already up and dressed. With a tray in his hands, he crossed the carpeted floor in bare feet, well-worn jeans and a casual white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

The tray held a plate piled high with what looked like French toast and scrambled eggs, two glasses of orange juice and a tall, narrow vase with a single bright purple tulip in full bloom.

“Good morning,” he said, his low drawl dripping down her spine like warm honey.

“Good morning,” she returned as he rounded the bed and crawled onto the mattress from his side, setting the tray carefully between them. It looked and smelled delicious.

“What time is it?” she asked, turning her head toward the clock on the bedside table.

Before she could see for herself, he said, “A little after nine.”

“Nine?” Shock and fear rolled through her as she realized she was late for work. She was never late for work.

She threw back the covers, ready to jump out of bed and dress as quickly as possible. If she hurried, maybe she could get to the office before her boss realized she was late, even if it meant showing up in the same outfit two days in a row.

She would rather put up with gossip about her personal life than gain the reputation of shirking her duties. And if she called Alandra from her cell phone on the way, she might even be able to get her sister to meet her there with a change of clothes.

“Relax,” Chase told her, reaching out to grab her wrist before she’d leapt completely off the mattress. “I phoned your sister and asked her to call you in sick from work.”

For a moment, Elena wasn’t sure she understood what he was telling her. Then, as it began to sink in, she raised a curious brow.

“Although, if you’d like to leave the covers off and eat in the buff,” he added with a devilish wink, “I’m all for it.”

She looked down and saw that she was, indeed, naked, the sheet tossed off to her ankles. With a gasp, she grabbed the sheet and yanked it back up to her chin.

He chuckled at the blush that filled her cheeks. “Do you really think there’s any part of you I haven’t already seen?” he asked, and then added, “And explored quite thoroughly?”

It was true. He was a very thorough man.

“I don’t make a habit of sitting around, eating breakfast in the nude,” she replied primly, turning her nose up just a little.

Which only earned her another deep laugh.

“And what do you mean you asked my sister to call me in sick to work?” she demanded, pretending to be more annoyed than she really was.

In all honestly, she was relieved. Yes, it was highhanded of him, but then, this was Chase. Chase was nothing if not forceful and commanding.

He shrugged one broad shoulder. “I kept you up pretty late last night, so I figured you’d appreciate a morning to sleep in. I also thought we could spend the day together, since I called and let my secretary know I wouldn’t be in, either.”

Now, that surprised her. She didn’t think Chase Ramsey ever took a day off work, or would know what to do with himself if he did.

Since it seemed like a moot point now, she gave up on worrying about her job and reached for a fork and the plate of French toast.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“Hey, that’s for both of us,” he complained when she dug in.

“I’ll let you have whatever I can’t finish,” she shot back with a wicked tip to her lips.

He snorted, but let her go. Then he said, “We can do anything you like. Sit by the pool sipping umbrella drinks, or on the back patio doing the same. We can even pack a picnic lunch and go over to my brother’s to see if he’ll let us take a couple of his horses out for a few hours.”

For a man who professed to need her only as his mistress, he seemed awfully accommodating all of a sudden. A picnic lunch? Sipping umbrella drinks by the pool?

She took a bite of French toast and chewed slowly, then washed it down with a sip of juice.

As much as she enjoyed horseback riding, the thought of staying here and spending the day only with Chase held much more appeal. After all, she didn’t know how much longer they would have together before he decided he didn’t need a mistress anymore … or at least didn’t need her as his mistress.

“A dip in the pool sounds like fun,” she said slowly. “I don’t have a suit, though.”

“That’s all right.” He reached out and snagged a slice of French toast from the plate she was holding and lifted it directly to his mouth. “You don’t need one.”

“You expect me to swim naked?” she asked, somewhat startled.

“Why not?” He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I’ll be naked, too, and even if you did wear a suit, I’d have you out of it in no time, anyway.”

She paused with the fork almost to her mouth, her throat closing suddenly as a jolt of arousal flushed through her system. Lowering her hand, she replaced the fork on the plate and set it all aside. Chase didn’t miss a beat in picking it up himself and digging in.

“What do you say?” he asked, mouth half-full of food. “Do you still want to swim?”

The vision of frolicking in the water with him, making love with him there, flashed through her head, and the muscles in her body went lax. She swallowed hard, licked her dry lips and barely managed a breathless, “Okay.”

Hours later, Elena was glad she hadn’t had to go to work that day. She wasn’t sure she’d have the energy to even go in tomorrow.

Chase was stretched out on a lounge chair a few feet from the pool, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with his breathing. She was draped along his side, her head on his shoulder, her palm resting on the flat of his abdomen. And they were both entirely, blissfully naked.

Two colorful drinks, complete with the umbrellas he’d promised, sat on a small glass table beside the chair, practically untouched, and soft music played over the sound system that was piped through the entire house.

“I’ve got a party to attend tomorrow night,” he said, startling her out of her drowsy reverie.

Rolling her head back slightly, she realized his eyes were still closed, but he obviously wasn’t asleep as she’d first thought.

“You wanna go with me?”

“Do I have a choice?” she asked, shifting slightly to redistribute her weight along his chest and thigh.

“You always have a choice. We all do,” he replied calmly. Lifting his arm, he thread his fingers through the damp hair at her temple. “But I’m asking you. It’s a business gathering, but you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can make it through one black-tie party on my own, I think,” he added with a chuckle.

She felt his laughter vibrate through his body, and nearly sighed at the tender, relaxing sensation he was creating along her scalp.

“I’d like you with me, though, if you’d like to go.”

Swallowing hard, she tried not to let her emotions tense her muscles or hasten her breathing, but her mind was spinning.

Was this a turning point in their relationship? Was he beginning to see her more as a lover, a girlfriend, than simply a mistress by business arrangement?

She didn’t want to get her hopes up, didn’t want to read too much into his one small comment, his one tiny shift in attitude. But her heart swelled with the possibilities.

“I would like to,” she said softly, relieved when her voice came out steady and self-assured.

“Good. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

Then, without warning, he rolled over, twisting her beneath him, catching her just before she fell off the edge of the chaise. She gave a little yelp, her eyes going wide in startlement.

“Wear something slinky and sexy that shows off your great breasts and bottom.”

He pinched her there and she made a sound that was half-gasp, half-laugh.

“You think I have a nice bottom?” she asked when she’d regained her breath.

“Stellar. Classic. Greek statues weep in envy.”

She grinned, letting her head fall back as he nuzzled her throat. His unshaven cheek scratched along her tender flesh, likely leaving a mark that she would later have to explain to her family and co-workers, but she didn’t care. Her back arched in pleasure, her hips bumping into his obvious arousal.

His hands slid higher as his mouth moved to her ear. “And make sure it’s backless. Something that leaves your smooth, gorgeous back bare to the room. Every other woman there will want to scratch your eyes out,” he murmured. “And every man will want you.”

“Including you?” she asked, finally getting into the flow of his building passion. She lifted her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist and licked the line of his jaw.

“Especially me. I’ll be wanting you even before I pick you up.”

He emphasized his point by slipping inside her in one long, steady stroke. Her lungs seized, and for the rest of the afternoon, all the thoughts and concerns jumbling through her mind were pushed aside by the sinful, delicious things Chase did to her.

Ever an agreeable mistress, Elena wore something slinky, sexy and backless that she hoped did an adequate job of highlighting her chest and rear. Chase, she supposed, would be the judge of that.

She couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he caught his first glimpse of her. He would be there any minute, and all she had left to do was slip on her necklace and earrings.

Her gown was red and floor-length, with a slit that ran to mid-thigh. The material was struck through with silver threads so that every bit of it shimmered, especially when she moved. The bodice, cut in a deep vee and tied behind her neck, left her shoulders and back completely bare.

She wore high, red heels with a criss-cross design across the top of her foot. Tiny rhinestones sparkled at the junction where each of the straps crossed.

Her jewelry was surprisingly simple—just a diamond pendant at her neck, matching teardrop earrings and an understated tennis bracelet on her right wrist.

According to Alandra, she looked “hot enough to peel the paint off a ‘57 Mustang.” Whatever that meant. But she’d laughed anyway, and taken it as the compliment she was sure her sister meant it to be.

Grabbing her small red clutch, she left her bedroom and headed downstairs. Her foot had just cleared the last step when the doorbell rang. She moved across the foyer, her high heels clicking on the polished parquet floor, and opened the door.

The sun was beginning to set, but it was still light enough to make out every detail of Chase’s broad, masculine form. And that form was positively mouthwatering in a tuxedo.

His black hair was slicked back instead of being left in its usual, carefree style, making him look sexier and more sophisticated.

She started to lick her lips, then remembered the recently applied lipstick and forced herself to rein in her roving tongue.

“Wow,” he muttered, reading her mind. “You look fabulous.”

“Thank you,” she said, then did a little pirouette in the doorway. “Does my dress meet with your approval? It’s slinky, sexy, shows off my breasts and bottom and is even—” She turned again, flashing the expanse of her back, left completely bare by both the dress and her upswept hair. “—backless.”

“Nice. Very nice,” he drawled. Reaching out, he ran the knuckle of one index finger along her spine, from the small of her back to the nape of her neck.

She shivered, both from his touch and the low, suggestive tone. If she wasn’t careful, they would end up rolling around on the floor of her father’s entryway and miss the party altogether.