Blackmailed Into His Arms

All he knew was that the emotions this Elena was churning up inside him made him distinctly uncomfortable.

Eight

The next few days in Las Vegas passed easily. Chase spent his days in business meetings, while Elena made one more trip to play with the children at the hearing-impaired school, then did a bit of window shopping. She sent postcards to some friends, even knowing she’d likely be home before they arrived. And she bought a pair of silver and amethyst swing earrings for Alandra from a boutique in the Wynn.

In the evenings she would accompany Chase to any dinner functions he needed to attend. Once or twice, they even ordered in, eating from the room service cart while they sat in front of the television in nightgown and boxer shorts.

And at night, they made love.

There was no more talk of that Christmas dance at her parents’ house nearly twenty years ago, or the type of person she’d been as a teen. Chase seemed satisfied with the answers she’d given him about her mother’s death and her change of heart. At least for the moment.

Elena didn’t try to fool herself into believing that the past was entirely dead and buried, of course. She was afraid the hurt she’d caused him by turning him down so rudely in front of her friends ran too deeply to be forgiven overnight. But she was happy to go on the way things were running now. Spending time with him, sharing less volatile memories of their school days and mutual acquaintances, sleeping each night in his arms.

It was the last one that caused her the most turmoil. Because she was just a bit too comfortable with him. Enjoyed making love with him a bit too much. Found herself forgetting the exact details of their arrangement a bit too often.

It was just so easy to pretend they were a normal couple, spending a week together out of town and getting to know each other better. No deals or arrangements involved. No blackmail to get her there, no guilt driving her to do whatever she could to save her father’s business.

A big part of her wanted to be there. And worse, she wished it were real.

How could this have happened? How could she have gone from resenting him for blackmailing her to share his bed, to wondering how she was going to feel when their arrangement was over?

It wouldn’t be easy. Already, her chest felt tight and her eyes stung whenever she thought about the time when they would go their separate ways.

That moment was closing in fast.

She finished folding a knit dress and tucked it into her suitcase, trying not to think about what would happen next.

Chase was at his last meeting of the week in Las Vegas. He’d packed his things earlier, then left her behind in the room to do the same. Their flight back to Texas was scheduled for after lunch.

And that, she thought, was when it would all be over.

She took a deep breath, patting her clothes down before heading to the bathroom for her toiletries.

If, in the week she’d been gone, her father had managed to get enough money together to save SRS, then there would be no reason for her relationship with Chase to continue. He would have nothing to hold over her head and no leverage to demand she remain his mistress.

How pathetic was it that the prospect saddened her? That she actually wanted her father to be having trouble getting his finances and backers together so she could have an excuse to remain with Chase just a bit longer.

Her sister would have a fit if she knew what Elena was thinking. Alandra would put her hands on her hips and shake her head, then launch into a lengthy lecture about Elena standing up for herself and not letting a man dictate her moods. If she wanted to be with Chase Ramsey, then she should simply tell him that she didn’t want their relationship to end once her father managed to save SRS. She should tell him she wanted to be more than just his mistress. How much more, she wasn’t sure, but she would at least like the time and opportunity to see where things led.

But, oh, wouldn’t Chase love that. His feelings for her were already bitter enough; all he needed to send them right into pure hatred was to have her announce that she might be falling in love with him and didn’t want to let him go after their deal was done.

She released a brittle chuckle as she dumped bottles of lotions and shampoos into her suitcase, closed the lid and zipped it shut.

Oh, yes, he’d just love that. The woman he’d blackmailed into being his mistress suddenly got too attached and wanted more. Wouldn’t that just shoot his plan for revenge all to hell.

From the other room, she heard the door to the suite click open and then close. She took a deep breath and blinked a few times, fighting to get her emotions under control before he came in and noticed how close she was to falling apart.

“Hey,” he said, tossing the key card on the dresser.

Smiling a bit too widely, Elena turned to greet him. “Hey.”

“You all packed?”

“I just finished,” she said, patting one of her bags.

“Good. If you want, we can have the bags taken down, then get some lunch before we head for the airport.”

She nodded. “Fine with me.”

She started to pull her bags and suitcase off the bed, moving them closer to the doorway, where he was leaning against the jamb.

“One other thing before we go,” he murmured, taking the handle of the wheeled case, the larger of the two bags, from her. Turning, he headed for the main door and propped her luggage with his own.

“Yes?” she asked distractedly, hitching the strap of her purse on her shoulder as she followed along behind and set her smaller carry-on bag next to the rest. She straightened to find him watching her intently, his blue eyes shining like crystals behind dark lashes.

He took her arm, his fingers banding firmly just above her elbow. “When we get back,” he told her slowly, “if your father hasn’t come up with the resources necessary to pull SRS out of the fire, I’ll expect you to continue with our agreement. Unless, of course, you’re no longer concerned with helping Victor save the family business.”

The latter seemed to be half apology, half threat. Elena thought she should probably be offended, or at least act outraged that he would dictate her actions once they returned home to Gabriel’s Crossing.

Instead, she felt almost elated. Ten days wasn’t very long to collect the kind of money her father needed to stave off the Ramsey Corporation, which meant the chances were pretty good that they would need to buy more time. Time she’d be required to remain with Chase.

That had been the deal, after all. She would play the part of his mistress for as long as it took for her father to raise the funds to save SRS. Just because they would no longer be a practically anonymous couple in the bright lights of Las Vegas didn’t mean she could go back on her word.

Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze and nodded. “Of course. I only ask that we be discreet. My family and the rest of world don’t need to know the details of why we’ll suddenly be spending so much time together.”

He inclined his head, his fingers dropping from her arm. “Agreed.”

With that, he turned to open the door and she felt a wave of relief wash through her. She would be spending more time with Chase, after all, rather than being tossed aside like an old pair of gym socks as soon as their plane landed in Texas.

And if she also felt more than a small jab of guilt at hoping it took her father awhile longer to move the family back into the black, she would deal with that later.

They’d been home nearly a week when Chase called Elena at work. She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d dropped her off at the house she shared with her father and sister the afternoon they’d returned from Las Vegas.

She’d wondered about him, caught herself jumping whenever the phone rang, half hoping he was calling to demand she spend the night with him. Or even that she accompany him to some dinner or another.

But he hadn’t, and since she hadn’t given him her work number, she’d never expected him to call her there. Of course, she should have known that a man like Chase Ramsey could find her wherever she was, if he put his mind to it.

As always, he got right to the point.

“My mother invited me to dinner tonight. My brother is going to be there with his wife and daughter and I thought you might like to go and meet everyone.” Before she could respond, he went on. “No problem if you already have other plans. I’ll just tell Mom I’m in the middle of an important business deal and will be working all evening.”

For a minute, Elena didn’t know what to say. She clutched the phone to her ear, her mouth hanging open in surprise.

He wanted her to meet his family? And if she said no, he wasn’t going to go at all?

What did that mean? Was he simply being polite, or did he have a more personal, hidden agenda?

Her mind was spinning, her heart racing a mile a minute.

“U-um,” she stuttered before quickly shaking herself. “Yes, of course. I’d love to go.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, sounding almost sorry he’d called. “Because—”

“I’m sure. My evening is wide open.”

It hadn’t been, but it would be now. Her sister would understand. They had only been going to the mall, anyway. Something about looking for toys for the children at one of Alandra’s charities.

“What time will you be picking me up? Or would you rather I met you there?”

“No, I’ll pick you up. Let’s say … six o’clock?”

“Six it is. I’ll see you then.”

“Good. Great. See you then.”

The line went dead, leaving Elena to listen to the hum of the dial tone. Slowly, she lowered her arm to hang up, leaving her fingers curled around the earpiece. A second later, she put the phone back to her ear and jabbed out a number she knew by heart.

“Hello?” her sister answered after only two rings.

Elena spoke only one word: “Help.”

What should a girl wear to dinner to meet her lover’s parents and brother? Especially when they were only lovers because he’d blackmailed her into bed.

That might not be the full reason she was staying in his bed, but it was certainly how he’d gotten her there to begin with.

Thankfully, she had a sister who was much more savvy about this sort of thing and knew the answers to these kinds of questions. As soon as Elena had called Alandra’s cell phone with her semi-desperate plea, her sister had dropped everything and met her at home for a full sweep of both their closets.

It was only dinner at his parents’ house, so nothing fancy was required. Instead, she needed something casual but elegant. Attractive and becoming without looking as though she’d worked at it.

Formal would have been easier, she soon realized. If she were attending a black-tie affair, she would simply have had to throw on something long and sequined with a pair of high heels. But dressing for dinner with Chase’s family bordered on cruel and unusual punishment.

They immediately crossed blue jeans off the list for being too casual. And a dress of any type for being too fancy. Skirts were borderline, depending on the style and design.

Finally, after two or three hours of feeling like the mannequin for a window designer with multiple personality disorder, Elena held her arms up while Alandra pulled yet another top over her head, then stood back to study her latest creation.

“I think we’ve got it,” her sister announced, grinning as she pointed at the mirror for Elena to see for herself.

Elena sighed in relief as she saw that she looked almost perfect. Maybe a little overdressed, but not by much. Especially if Chase came straight from the office and was still wearing his usual suit and tie.

Alandra had decided on a pair of wide-legged black slacks, with one-inch plain black pumps and a periwinkle blue sweater set trimmed with red, white, and black embroidered flowers.

“Are you sure?” she asked, tugging at the hem of the sweater and turning left and right to view the full effect.

“Absolutely. You look gorgeous, but not like you’re trying to impress anyone. If I were meeting my new boyfriend’s parents for the first time, I’d wear that exact outfit.”

Elena’s heart shuddered at her sister’s words. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she said softly, her mouth gone dry as she turned away from the mirror. She couldn’t quite bring herself to meet Alandra’s gaze, so she moved to the bed, busying herself with putting earlier discarded garments back on their hangers.

“You’re right,” her sister readily agreed. “He’s way too cute to be just a ‘boyfriend.’ He’s your red-hot secret lover.”

Face flaming, she whirled in Alandra’s direction, waving a hand and glancing frantically toward the open bedroom door.

“Shhh,” she hissed, marching past her sister to shut the door to hopefully provide them with a bit more privacy. Just in case. “No one is supposed to know, remember? And it won’t be a secret much longer if you keep talking about it at full volume.”

She turned back in time to see Alandra roll her eyes toward the ceiling. “You’re going to have to tell people eventually if you keep spending so much time with the man.”

“I haven’t spent any time with him. This is the first time he’s called me all week.”

“Yes, but you flew to Vegas with him and stayed there almost a week.”

Elena crossed her arms beneath her breasts and tapped her foot on the carpeted floor in agitation. “I flew to Vegas on business,” she corrected. “No one knows I went with Chase or what we did while we were there.”

“I know,” Alandra murmured pointedly, crossing her arms in a mirror image of her sister’s pose.

Elena raised a brow. “What are you saying? That you’re going to blackmail me, too?”

Honestly, was she giving off pheromones to signal that she was ripe for the picking? She’d gone thirty-three years without being bribed or strong-armed into anything, and now she was about to be manipulated twice in the same month. And once by her sister, no less!

But Alandra quickly put the quash on any concerns about that.

“Of course not! What kind of sister do you think I am?”

Dropping her arms, she stalked forward and took Elena’s hand, tugging her to the set of pastel-striped armchairs by the window.

When they were both seated, Alandra said, “I’m worried about you, Elena. First you tell me you’re being coerced into sleeping with this guy to help Pop save the company. And I understood your reasons for going through with it, really I did. I’d have probably done the same thing. But now you’re standing here nervous about meeting the man’s parents and worrying over what to wear when you do. Do you realize what that means?”

Elena blinked. It meant she was nervous about meeting Chase’s parents, and that she wasn’t the ever self-assured fashion plate her sister was, didn’t it?

“It means you care,” Alandra informed her gently. “If this were just a business arrangement, you wouldn’t care how you looked tonight. You’d have probably gone in the same outfit you wore to work today and not given it a second thought.”

“That’s not true. I care how I look,” Elena protested, but the words came out with so little confidence, even she didn’t believe it.

“Of course you do. But you looked fine in what you were wearing this morning. And that song you were humming when you got home from Vegas tells me you weren’t exactly chained up in Chase Ramsey’s bed all week, forced to be his love slave against your will. I think,” Alandra added, tipping her head to the side, “things between you are starting to get serious.”

Elena swallowed past the lump in her throat, her heart pounding like a kettledrum. Once again, she was reminded that she could keep no secrets from a sister who knew her so well. For better or worse, Alandra could see straight through any attempts at subterfuge.

The air shuddered from her lungs. Her shoulders slumped and she let her chin fall to her chest. “I’m in trouble,” she admitted, barely loud enough to be heard.

Her sister leaned forward, her expression going serious as she laid a hand on Elena’s knee. “You’re in love with him?” she asked.

Elena shook her head, slowly, almost as though she couldn’t quite believe it herself. “I don’t know, but I think I’m close.”

She raised her head and met her sister’s understanding eyes as her own started to sting and grow damp. “I’m really, really close.”

Nine

Between her nerves over meeting Chase’s parents and her disturbing conversation with Alandra before leaving, Elena’s stomach was in knots. Her palms were sweating, her knees were shaking and every once in a while, her chest tightened so much, she could barely draw a breath.

When Chase pulled up to the house at six on the dot, Elena made her sister stay in her room. The last thing she needed was for Alandra to race down the stairs to catch a glimpse of him or be caught peering around the corner like a child on Christmas morning, trying to catch Santa Claus piling presents under the tree.

But even though Alandra bided by her wishes and stayed out of sight, Elena knew she was watching from the upstairs window as Chase helped her into the car and they pulled away.

On the drive, she tried to make small talk, tried to respond with some modicum of sensibility when Chase spoke. But inside, her blood and muscles and bones felt as though they’d been touched by a live wire. She was surprised he didn’t notice a glow in her eyes or sparks shooting from her fingertips.

The Ramsey ranch was on the other side of Gabriel’s Crossing, but they still arrived much too soon for Elena’s peace of mind. Chase’s shiny silver luxury car bumped down a long, rutted dirt driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them.

A dark blue pickup truck was already parked in front of the house. Chase pulled up beside it and cut the engine.

For a moment, they sat there, neither one making a move to get out. Elena stared at the front door, fully expecting it to fly open and the stuff of nightmares to pour out.

Alandra was right; it meant something. Despite her better judgment, she was falling for Chase, and falling hard. And for some reason, whether or not his parents liked her felt like a very big deal.

She wished it didn’t. She wished she could convince herself that this was merely another business dinner he’d asked her to attend. Meeting his parents felt entirely too much like something a girlfriend would do.

A girlfriend, not a mistress.

The click of the door latch releasing on Chase’s side of the car interrupted her thoughts and she hurried to open her own and climb to her feet. Brushing her hands on the legs of her slacks, she took a deep breath and tried to calm the jumble of anxiety tightening her stomach.

She was his mistress, she reminded herself as brutally as she could. Not his girlfriend, not his fiancée, not even, really, his lover. This might be his family, but to her, they were simply another group of strangers she needed to entertain and impress to fulfill her part of the bargain.

Chase met her at the front of the car, only steps from the narrow porch that ran the full length of the front of the house.

“Ready?” he asked, seeming to sense her reluctance, even though she was doing her best to tame it.

She swallowed hard and let him take her hand, pasting on a wide smile she didn’t quite feel. “Of course.”

He led her onto the porch and through the front door. Voices assaulted them as soon as they stepped into the house. Male and female, one on top of the other.

They moved through a wide, homey living room that took up the front of the house, and down a short hallway that opened into a dining room filled with people—the source of all the noise.

Two men sat at one end of a long pine table already set with plates and silverware. One was older, one younger, but Elena could tell right away that they were related. Chase’s father and brother, she would guess.

Beside the younger man stood a high chair with a brown-haired little girl seated inside, seemingly content to occupy herself by chewing on the wrong end of a small plastic spoon.

While Elena was taking in her surroundings, a swinging door opened and two women came out, both carrying a bowl or platter in each hand as they smiled and chatted.

“Chase!” the older of the two cried the moment she spotted them standing there. She quickly set sliced pot roast and buttered green beans on the table, then rushed toward them.

“Hi, Mom,” Chase said, returning the woman’s hug as she threw her arms around him and squeezed.

When they separated, his mother turned to face Elena. “And you must be Elena. Chase told us he might bring you along.”

Elena returned her greeting and shook the woman’s hand when she offered it, with Chase adding to the introduction.

“Elena, this is my mother, Theresa. And this is everyone else,” he said, pointing as he went around the room. “My father, Isaac; my brother, Mitch; his wife, Emma; and their daughter, Amelia. Everyone, this is Elena Sanchez.”

They all smiled and said hello, and she felt her anxiety begin to ease as Chase pulled out a chair and waited for her to take a seat, then sat down beside her.

Pot roast, mashed potatoes, green beans and sliced peaches were passed around the table, the room filling once again with noise as everyone started speaking at the same time. Voices and laughter mixing, conversations overlapping and turning on a dime.

Instead of being overwhelmed, Elena found the exuberant atmosphere comforting. It reminded her of some of her own family’s gatherings, back before her mother died. She, Alandra and their father still ate meals together as often as possible, but they tended to be quieter, more subdued affairs these days.

Although she didn’t take a large part in the interaction, she responded whenever questions were directed at her and found herself laughing several times at one thing or another. And as if the meal itself wasn’t delicious enough, Theresa brought out a fresh-from-the-oven pecan pie that nearly made Elena weep.

With everyone stuffed, and little Amelia’s eyes drooping, things began to quiet down. Elena helped Theresa clear the table and fill the dishwasher while Emma took the toddler upstairs to sleep and the men moved from the dining room to the living room. A few minutes later, they heard the front door open and then close, and Theresa rolled her eyes.

“Isaac thinks I don’t know about those filthy cigars he likes to sneak after dinner. Like I can’t smell them on him for hours afterward.”

She reached into a cupboard and removed three short-stemmed wineglasses to go with the bottle of chardonnay she’d already set on the counter. Holding the three glasses upside down in one hand and the neck of the bottle in the other, she nudged the kitchen door with her hip and led the way through the house to the sitting room.

“He takes the boys outside with him so he can claim they needed to talk. I won’t say anything tonight, though, since it will give us girls a chance to chat, too.”

Emma came back downstairs then, to curl up in one corner of the overstuffed sofa. She smiled and thanked Theresa when the older woman passed her a half-full glass of wine.

Elena took a seat on the other end of the sofa, not quite at ease enough to put her feet up. But then, she was a guest here, not a daughter-in-law.

Theresa handed her a glass, too, then sat back in a matching armchair to sip from her own.

“So,” Theresa murmured casually, “tell us how you came to be dating my son.”

“So what’s up with the raven-haired beauty?” Mitch asked, sipping at the three fingers of scotch he’d poured before their father had dragged them outside so he could sneak a few puffs from his cigar before their mother discovered him.

Chase took a sip from his own glass before responding. “Nothing’s up. She’s a friend, that’s all.”