Elizabeth Power – Blackmailed Into His Arms: Blackmailed into Bed / The Billionaire's Blackmail Bargain / Blackmailed For Her Baby (страница 2)

“I’m not here to beg you for anything. I came to speak with you about a business issue that’s important to my family. And whether or not you find my eyelashes and legs attractive is completely inconsequential. We’re both adults; we should be able to sit down and talk in a calm, professional manner without you ogling me like a parolee on his first visit to a strip club after twenty years in solitary confinement.”

The muscles in Chase’s cheeks twitched, and it took all of his willpower to keep from letting that twitch spread into a full-blown grin.

It had been almost twenty years since he’d seen or spoken to Elena Sanchez. Frankly, he’d never given a damn if he ever saw or spoke to her again. She was one of those painful memories from childhood that still oozed and bled if he let down his guard long enough to peel back the curtain between present and past.

Thankfully, he didn’t do that very often. He hadn’t thought about Elena in years. Not even, surprisingly, when he’d begun the process of buying out her father’s restaurant supply company. To Chase, it was just another smart business move; the kind that had transformed him from a modest rancher’s son to a millionaire and CEO of his own self-named corporation at the age of thirty-five.

Kicking away from the desk, he smoothed a hand over his tie and once again rounded his desk.

“By all means,” he told her, waving toward one of the chairs on either side of her body, which she was holding nearly as still and rigid as a statue, “have a seat and we’ll talk. Like adults. About business.”

For a moment she didn’t move, almost as though she expected his offer to be some sort of trap. Then her muscles began to relax and she took a sideways step to her left, perching on the edge of the chair that didn’t hold her little red handbag.

Knees together, spine straight, she held her folded hands on her lap, looking every inch the debutante she’d been raised to be.

The image wasn’t a pleasant one for Chase. It reminded him too sharply of the girl she’d been at fourteen. The same girl who’d bruised his heart and trampled all over it with the sharp little heels of her open-toed shoes.

Pushing aside those old hurts and the feelings they evoked, he met her eyes and tried to regard her just as he would any other business associate.

“All right,” he said, leaning his forearms on the top of his desk, “I’m listening. What is it you need to speak with me about?”

“You’re trying to buy out my father’s—my family’s—company, Sanchez Restaurant Supply,” she said.

“I’m going to buy out your father’s company,” he corrected.

To her credit, his comment didn’t upset her or cause her to back down.

“I’m here to ask you to reconsider your decision,” she continued without flinching. “Or at the very least, to give my father a bit more time to come up with the money and resources necessary to save SRS.”

“Does he think he can do that?” Chase asked, always interested in any new information that might help him get the upper hand or finalize a deal. “Come up with the financial backing, I mean.”

“Yes.”

She glanced away for just a split second, telling him she wasn’t as confident as she was pretending to be.

“He thinks, given enough time, that he could get the company up and running successfully again. And I’m here to ask you to give him the time he needs because I’m worried about what will become of him if he loses SRS.”

Her green eyes, surrounded by full black lashes that matched her long, flowing black hair, met his, wordlessly begging for his understanding and compassion.

Something warm began to unfurl low in his belly, but he clamped his jaw on his fist, and bit down on it. He’d been roped in by her soft eyes and sultry features before, and gotten kicked in the teeth for his trouble. He wouldn’t let her lull him again.

“The company is his life,” Elena went on. “He built it from the ground up, when he had nothing. It’s the cornerstone of our family. After my mother died, he let things slide—he knows that—but he’s trying now to set things right and get SRS back to where it belongs.”

It was a pretty story, one no doubt designed to pull at his heartstrings. Little did she know he didn’t have any heartstrings.

“What does that have to do with me?” he asked bluntly.

Those green eyes flashed for a brief moment before she seemed to remember he held her life and future—or at the very least, her father’s—in his hands.

“You want to buy Sanchez Restaurant Supply and break it into pieces, selling it off to the highest bidder. I realize it would make a tidy profit for you, but I’m asking you to consider the blood, sweat and tears that went into building SRS. Consider the emotional impact losing the company will have on a good man and his family.”

“Emotions have no place in business. Buying out SRS is a sound financial decision, and you’re right—I stand to make a tidy sum on the deal. I can’t worry about how the previous owner is going to feel about the takeover or what he did to put the company at risk to begin with.”

Chase waited for that hint of fire to burn in her eyes once again, but it never came. Instead, she inclined her head once, slowly, before making one last, desperate pitch.

“I thought that’s what you would say. I even understand your position. But will a few more weeks really hurt you? There have to be other companies out there that can net you just as much profit. Can’t you give my father just a few more weeks, maybe a month, to see if there’s something he can do to save the business? If he can’t, all you’ve lost is a little time.” She paused for a beat, looking him straight in the eye and lifting both brows. “Unless there’s some personal reason you would be averse to helping me or my family.”

She put just enough emphasis on the remark to let him know she remembered that night twenty years ago as well as he did, although he doubted her reaction was anything close to his own. He felt a spiral of shame and embarrassment begin low in his gut and he tamped it down, refusing to be controlled by memories … childhood ones, at that.

Elena Sanchez hadn’t changed a bit since he’d last seen her. Oh, she’d grown into a beautiful, breathtaking woman, but then, she’d been a pretty girl.

Where it really counted, though, she was exactly the same. She still expected her feminine wiles and her family’s wealth and reputation to get her whatever she desired.

Sanchez Restaurant Supply was apparently in enough trouble for her to feel compelled to try to help her father, instead of her usual attitude of letting daddy solve her problems. It was obvious she expected Chase to see the situation from her perspective and be mesmerized enough by the bit of skin she was flashing below the hem of her skirt and between the vee of her blouse to give her what she wanted.

Too bad for her that Chase Ramsey was not a man to be led around by the nose … or any other part of his anatomy.

“I told you,” he said, with very little warmth to his words, “even if I had feelings about your family one way or the other, I wouldn’t let them interfere with a business decision.”

“Well, then,” she said shortly, getting to her feet and retrieving her purse from the seat of the other chair, “I guess I’m wasting my time and yours. Thank you for seeing me. I’ll let you get back to your work.”

He watched the rigid set of her shoulders and the sensual sway of her hips as she walked away, having the uncontrollable urge to call her back.

Why should he want to keep her with him a few minutes longer, when up until today his fondest wish had been never to lay eyes on her again?

His brain was in chaos, struggling to process the conflicting feelings, while at the same time, he was kicking himself for still finding her even moderately attractive. He was like a man with split personalities: a part of him wanted to help her and part of him wanted to punish her.

“Wait,” he called out, just as her long, red-tipped fingers curled around the knob of his office door.

Slowly, with obvious reluctance, she turned to face him.

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” he told her, pushing away from his desk and moving closer, stopping before his actions could be considered intimidating.

“I happen to be in need of a female companion. A beautiful woman to accompany me on business trips and to related dinners and events.”

He straightened his tie and smoothed the lines of his jacket. His statement was at least half true. He might not need a companion, but it certainly would be convenient to have one at his disposal. He just couldn’t figure out why he felt compelled to offer the position to this particular woman.

But it didn’t keep him from pressing forward, even though she had yet to respond.

“If you agree to be available to me whenever I need you, I’ll agree to give your father the same amount of time to do what he can to save SRS. A day, a week, a month—it’s entirely up to you.”

Her lips twitched, as though she was about to speak, but before she could utter a word, he held up a hand to stop her. “You should know, before making a decision, that there will be sex involved. I’ll expect you to share my bed, if that’s something I require.”