Blackmailed Into His Arms. Margaret Mayo

care money could buy and still it wasn’t enough.”

      “So you became a social worker,” he said, tamping down on the sympathies threatening to overwhelm his better senses. “To try to save the world in other ways?”

      “Not save the world,” she said softly. “But I did want to help people. Our family has more than enough money to get by. Even if we lost the business—which I don’t want us to do because of how important it is to my father—” she added with a meaningful glance, “we’d still be okay financially. I wanted to do something with my life that made a difference.”

      “And I’ll bet you do. Make a difference, I mean.”

      A small smile played over her face. “I try. There are so many kids in trouble out there, so many families with problems. I just do what I can—and what the law allows—to make things a little better for them.”

      “And you don’t turn down awkward teenage boys when they ask you to dance, just because their parents aren’t as rich as yours?”

      She flushed, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “I’m not sure how many teenage boys would ask me to dance these days, but no. I wouldn’t turn anyone down based on their upbringing or bank account. Especially you.”

      “But I’ve got money now,” he pointed out, arching a brow. “Doesn’t that make me more acceptable?”

      “No more and no less. I don’t judge people that way anymore and I never should have to begin with.”

      Wiggling around the bed, she pulled the sheet with her as she once again took up position along his side, one leg draped over his thigh, her breasts pressing into his chest.

      “At the risk of making you even angrier about that night,” she told him, turning her head to rest on his shoulder, “I really did think you were cute back then. If it hadn’t been for my friends and my fear of what they might say, I probably would have danced with you—and enjoyed every minute of it.”

      He didn’t reply; instead he let the room fall into silence and her words sink deep into his bones. Beside him, Elena’s breathing turned deep and even, and he knew she’d fallen asleep.

      But Chase couldn’t sleep; his mind wouldn’t let him. Into the wee hours of the night, he stayed awake, trying to make sense of what she’d told him, of the thoughts and feelings ricocheting through him like a pinball in an arcade game. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to reconcile this “new” Elena with the memories he had of her and the woman he’d expected her to be.

      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