Blackmailed Into His Arms. Margaret Mayo
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and a second, more private bath.
Elena had grown up with money and stayed in her fair share of luxury hotels, but even she found the opulence of this particular suite to be somewhat overwhelming.
A king-size bed filled the center of the bedroom, surrounded by ornately carved dressers and a wall of mirrors that hid the long closet space. The bathroom had a shower stall and a separate, deep Jacuzzi, both big enough, she thought, to hold three or four people.
She was standing in the doorway, admiring the almost spa-quality equipment, when Chase came up behind her and whispered in her ear.
“We have more than an hour before we need to be downstairs for dinner. Would you like to take a nap, or unpack, or … something else?”
Although he wasn’t touching her at all, his voice poured over her like warm honey, his hinted suggestion sending off fireworks low in her belly. Her breathing grew choppy and she had to blink several times to stave off the sudden bout of lightheadedness that assailed her.
She wasn’t ready. Not yet. She knew the moment would come when she couldn’t put it off any longer, but for now he’d given her other options, and she grabbed at them like a drowning victim reaching for a life raft.
“I think we should unpack,” she said a bit too loudly and a bit too brightly, spinning on her heel and slipping past him before he could protest or—worse—try to stop her.
Not waiting for a reply, she hurried to where their bags had been left and hoisted her suitcase onto the mattress. There was a luggage rack off to the side, but she decided that if the bed was covered with clothes and such, it couldn’t be used for … other things.
Without a word, Chase joined her and they unpacked in silence, filling the drawers and closets, and cluttering the counter around the bathroom sinks.
When they were finished, Chase suggested they start getting ready for dinner and politely left her alone to change. She hurried with her hair and makeup, and shrugged into one of the half dozen cocktail dresses she’d brought along, knowing Chase would need time in the bedroom and bathroom to get ready himself.
Stepping into the sitting area, she found Chase standing at the bank of tall windows, staring out at the bright lights and bustling activity that made up the heart of Sin City. Though the thick, lush carpeting absorbed the sound of her footsteps, he seemed to sense her presence and turned as she rounded the end of the floral-patterned sofa.
His eyes softened when he saw her, and a gentle smile curved his lips as he skimmed her appearance, from the upswept knot of hair that left her neck and shoulders visible, to the strapless royal blue dress with its lace overlay that hugged her every curve and left her legs seductively bare. She shifted slightly and toyed with the sapphire pendant at her throat, uncomfortable with his thorough perusal.
He strode forward, taking his time and keeping his gaze firmly locked with her own.
“Nice,” he murmured as he passed, careful to leave just enough space between their bodies that her skin prickled in awareness, but they never actually touched.
“I won’t be long,” he added before disappearing into the bedroom and closing the connecting door behind him.
* * *
Dinner, Elena was relieved to admit, passed much more enjoyably and with a lot less stress than expected. Chase had introduced her to his business associates by name, with no further explanation, rather than referring to her as his girlfriend or mistress or some other label she’d been concerned he might use. And though she’d made small talk with the other women at the table, she mostly remained silent and allowed Chase to conduct his business.
He even asked her to dance at one point, and held her close while the orchestra played a slow, romantic song. After a couple glasses of wine and the lulling atmosphere seeping into her bones, she let herself lean against the strong wall of his chest and absorb the heat of his fingers where they rested at the small of her back.
She hadn’t forgotten their agreement or her reason for being here—both to help her father and become Chase’s lover—but since the outcome of her decision was inevitable, she started to relax and live for the moment rather than obsess over what might come next.
They said goodnight to the others and made their way through the lobby to the bank of elevators, their footsteps slow, her arm wrapped around his and their hips brushing.
“You were great tonight,” Chase said as they stepped into the empty elevator car. “Finklestein and Rogers loved you. And I think their wives were glad to have another woman at the table. My unattached state usually causes them to spend the entire meal going through a list of single young ladies they think might suit me.”
Elena offered a small smile, but didn’t reply.
“Bringing you along was definitely one of my better ideas.”
When the elevator stopped at their floor, he led her to the suite, opened the door with his keycard and waved her inside ahead of him.
They’d left a lamp on at the far side of the room, so the suite was bathed in pale yellow light. The closed curtains kept the neon sparkle of The Strip from intruding.
“Would you like something to drink?”
Elena turned to find Chase standing near the entrance to the kitchenette, but shook her head. “I already had too much wine with dinner. Any more and I’ll probably pass out and sleep for a week.”
“We can’t have that,” he replied, his voice a low rumble.
Moving closer, he stroked the pads of his fingers down her bare arm, raising goose bumps all along her skin. His gaze held hers and she swallowed hard to keep from shivering.
When he reached her wrist, he unhooked her gold and diamond watch, setting it aside on the kitchenette counter. From the next wrist, he loosened her dangle bracelet, then slipped the rings off her fingers, adding them to the growing pile. Next came her earrings and necklace, until she stood free of accessories.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
To her great embarrassment, the only reply she could manage when she opened her mouth was a strangled sort of sound. Chase grinned, his blue eyes turning storm gray and twinkling devilishly.
His hands lifted to her hair and slowly, one by one, he removed the pins holding the long locks in place. When he was finished, he drove his fingers into the twisted strands and combed them down to hang to her waist. A second later, she felt him tugging at the zipper of her dress, and then the fabric slipped from her body.
She didn’t fight it, didn’t grab for the garment before it hit the floor. She simply stood there and let him strip her down to her bra and panties, garter belt, stockings and high heeled shoes.
He took a small step back, just a millimeter to allow him to look his fill. “Lovely.”
“They were my sister’s idea.” The words popped out without conscious thought and she was rewarded for her senseless muttering by his warm, lopsided smile.
“What was?”
“The garter and stockings. She told me they were sexier than pantyhose, and that you’d appreciate the difference.”
His grin widened and turned even more wicked, his gaze locked on the lace edging at the tops of her thighs and the thin straps holding them up. “Your sister was right. Remind me to send her a thank-you note when we get back. And maybe a box of chocolates or some flowers.”
Elena nodded absently, her insides going both weak and hot at the same time.
With one hand on her hip, the other trailing up and down the length of her arm, Chase leaned in and blew on the shell of her ear.
“Tell me, Elena,” he whispered, sending shockwaves through her system, “will you come to bed with me? Now? Tonight?”
Her eyes drifted closed, the lids too heavy to keep open. Her blood felt