Blackmailed Into His Arms. Margaret Mayo
racks of water pistols, action figures and plastic princess jewelry. When a clerk came up to her, she smiled and started pointing at certain items, nodding when the woman seemed to understand what she was interested in.
What the heck was she doing? Chase wondered. He adjusted his own sunglasses and tried to get a better look without being tagged as a stalker.
He watched as she stacked toys on the checkout counter, the other woman filling bags with assorted candies at Elena’s instruction. By the time they finished, her pile would have put Willy Wonka and his legendary Chocolate Factory to shame.
The clerk scanned everything, rang up the total and Elena handed over a credit card. But it wasn’t a gold one, so it obviously wasn’t his.
Rather than take plastic bags with the store’s logo on them, she put everything into her own tan tote, thanked the woman behind the counter with a wave and headed back toward the street.
Chase whipped around and hurried to the storefront right next door. This time, she flagged down a cab, and he suffered a moment of panic worrying he might lose her. Then, when he caught a taxi of his own, he felt like the headliner of a bad action movie, ordering the driver, “Follow that car!” The hundred-dollar bill Chase flashed kept the driver from commenting or looking at him as though he had a few screws loose.
Several minutes later, they pulled up in front of a large gray brick building surrounded by a tall chain-link fence. Chase watched from half a block away as Elena got out of her cab and slipped through the closed gate. He asked his driver to wait, then hurried along to see just what she was up to.
He didn’t have to go far. She hadn’t actually gone into the building after passing through the gate, but was seated on the bench seat of a red plastic picnic table at the edge of what looked like a school’s play yard.
Staying back, he watched kids of all ages crowding around her, and she was smiling and laughing, making a point of reaching out to touch each one on the head, the cheek, the arm.
Something lurched deep in his gut at the sight of her looking so happy. She was talking, teasing, her hands moving a mile a minute, then reaching into her bag for the things she’d bought at the store.
It took him a moment to realize the children weren’t as noisy as he would have expected, and that Elena’s animated hand motions weren’t simply a side effect of her exuberant mood.
She was speaking in sign language. The children bustling around her couldn’t hear. Chase looked around and his eyes lit on the sign on the front of the building that labeled it a school for the deaf. Yet Elena was interacting with them as easily as she would anyone else … perhaps better.
Oh, no, he didn’t want to see this. Didn’t even want to know about it.
He spun around, glancing at the taxi waiting for him at the curb, then turned back.
The kids loved her, loved the goodies she’d brought them, loved the attention.
And he hated it, because the entire situation was living, breathing proof that Elena wasn’t the same shallow, vapid girl he’d known nearly twenty years ago.
His mind in turmoil, he whirled around again and stormed to the cab, ordering the driver to take him back to the hotel. He fumed the whole way, stopping just short of ranting to himself and removing any doubt from the cabbie’s mind that he was a few quarters short of a roll.
He didn’t want to deal with any of this, didn’t want to see Elena as a sweet, thoughtful woman who knew sign language and would choose to spend her days in Las Vegas entertaining a group of differently-abled children rather than shopping and running up his credit card bill.
Had he ever met another woman who would do the same? His mother and sister-in-law, maybe, but they didn’t count.
What was he going to say to Elena when she got back tonight? He didn’t think he could look at her the same as he had that morning. Or touch her without remembering the sight of her with those children.
Because Chase had been so upset the day before when she’d returned a little late from her outing, Elena made a point of getting back early this time. She was hot and sticky and looking forward to taking a quick shower before she needed to start getting ready for dinner.
To her surprise, the suite was empty when she got there. She’d expected to find Chase at the desk, clacking away at his laptop, or in the bedroom getting dressed. Instead, as she checked each room and even called for him, he was nowhere to be found. And he hadn’t left a note to let her know where he was or when he’d be back … at least none she could find.
Well, maybe he was still working or one of his appointments had run long.
She dropped her tote in a corner, left her sunglasses on the narrow kitchenette countertop and headed for the bathroom.
Half an hour later, she emerged fresh and clean, with one towel wrapped around her wet hair and another tucked above her breasts. She was humming, off in her own little world, and didn’t realize Chase was in the room until she glanced up and saw him standing on the other side of the wide, neatly made bed.
She jumped, pressing a hand to her heart. “Good Lord, you scared me,” she said with a light laugh.
A little thrill went through her at the sight of him. He looked more handsome than any man had a right to be in his navy suit, his dark hair smoothly styled, a splash of color spilling down his chest from his tie. She was even getting used to his intense blue eyes and unsmiling mouth.
“You should have knocked on the bathroom door or given a yell when you got back so I’d know you were here.” Moving to the dresser, she started opening and closing drawers, pulling out an assortment of underclothes. “I won’t be long. I was just about to get ready.”
“Don’t bother.”
His words, as well as the coldness in his tone, gave her pause. She stopped what she was doing, a pair of diaphanous black, French-cut panties dangling from her fingertips.
“Excuse me?” she said, telling herself not to let her imagination run away with her.
Chase Ramsey wasn’t exactly the warmest person she’d ever met—he might have had a bad meeting and was taking his lousy mood out on her.
“We have another dinner tonight, right? Don’t you want me to dress to the nines and impress all your business associates?” She grinned and twitched her hips seductively.
His expression didn’t change. He still looked like he was contemplating something particularly unsavory.
“I have a dinner meeting,” he finally replied, his voice like a splash of ice water on her already wet and chilled body. “Your presence isn’t required.”
He rounded the bed, leaving enough space for a tractor trailer to park between them as he passed. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
She stood where she was, stunned by his announcement and abrupt departure. From the other room, she heard the door of the suite open and then slam shut, and knew she was alone.
Why in heaven’s name would Chase suddenly decide that he didn’t need her with him, when that was his sole reason for blackmailing her and bringing her along?
And what was with his attitude? He could be a hard man, distant and cruel at times. At least with her; she didn’t know how he acted with his family or friends. But she also knew why he treated her that way, and that—in his mind—she deserved it.
But lately, since they’d been here in Las Vegas, sharing this enormous, lavish suite, he’d been different. She’d thought that he was beginning to soften toward her, that they were beginning to connect.
And, she admitted, she’d begun to develop feelings for him.
She wouldn’t go so far as to say she was in love with him, since she wasn’t sure it was possible to be in love with a man whose mind was set on revenge against her. But she had started to be kind of glad he’d manipulated