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

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      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 СКАЧАТЬ