Seduction and Surrender - The Billionaire's Temptation Series

by Cali MacKay

  They were gorgeous and smart but they were always too willing to please with the expectation that they’d be rewarded with extravagant gifts and luxurious trips. And that was fine—it was an unspoken agreement that gave them what they wanted, and allowed him some sexual release without having to give it much thought. Yet he found himself just going through the motions.

  Emma? Well…she didn’t exactly seem the sort to happily go along with anything he wanted. That much was evident from the way she ran her kitchen and chefs. And damn, but that was a total turn-on. He liked that sort of challenge, liked the hunt—and liked the capture even more.

  Though she’d likely tell him to go fuck himself under normal circumstances, he now had something she desperately wanted. He felt like a bit of an ass to use her predicament to his advantage, but he’d already given her more thought than he’d given any other woman, and he certainly wouldn’t be losing sleep over his tactics if it landed her in his bed. Anything to scratch that itch and get her out of his system, so he could get on with his life.

  Because he did want her. Even more so now that he’d had the chance to meet her, to touch her, to feel her sexy body and lush curves pressed against him until his cock swelled with a need that demanded satiation. She was feisty and determined, smart and strong-willed. His perfect match.

  And he would have her. Of that, he had no doubt.

  He knew what it was like to start from nothing, to work his ass off for every penny. The odds had always been against him, but he’d made it work out of sheer stubbornness and determination. He saw that same fight in Emma, and it made him want her all the more.

  She wasn’t one who waited around and expected someone to give her everything on a silver platter, as if she deserved it for simply being pretty. That was evident in the way she ran her restaurant. She fought for what she wanted and worked damn hard for it. He had to admire that. And maybe he’d cut her a break that would also work to his advantage.

  While running his hand across his rough stubble, in no hurry to shave anytime soon, he gave it some thought. There was still time to make changes to the plans he had for the building, seeing that they weren’t set to meet with their other investors to finalize the deal for another month. The building was already his, and though the investors would eventually get a say, that wasn’t until they’d all signed on the dotted line.

  It might mean shifting some things around, or even losing an investor or two, but he was more than willing to do it, if it meant he got his way with Emma. It’s not like he needed their money anyway. “I’ll tell you what…I’ll see if I can incorporate your restaurant into my current plans for the building. It wasn’t what I originally had in mind, but you’ve piqued my curiosity, Ms. Sparrow, and…I find you intriguing.”

  “Do you, now?” Her gaze narrowed, as if trying to figure him out. “And why would that be?”

  He shrugged, knowing he had the upper hand. “Emma Sparrow. Full academic scholarship to the Culinary Institute. Graduated with highest honors. Spent a year at Le Cordon Bleu in France, before working your way to head chef by age twenty-five, while at some of the finest restaurants across the country, and finally opening your own place at the age of twenty-seven. Quite impressive.”

  He’d caught her off guard, her eyes going wide as she shifted in her chair. She clearly wasn’t one who was used to praise, even if her accomplishments were notable. “So, does this mean you’ll extend my lease?”

  The fire in her eyes, the determination…he imagined she’d be amazing in bed, and his cock reacted predictably. “Yes—but in exchange, I want us to get to know each other better. I’ve got several functions I need to attend, and I want you…on my arm and by my side.” And in my bed, under me, around me, any way I can have you, sweetheart. “I’ll also need you to accompany me on my trips overseas.”

  Emma’s eyes went wide as she balked. “Me? No offense, but did you forget what I’m like in heels? You should let me keep my restaurant just for saying no to you, since I’m sparing you from becoming the laughingstock of your colleagues. Trust me on this one. I’m not the girl you want as your date.”

  He gave her a casual shrug, not wanting her to know the sort of effect she was having on him. “I’m sure you’ll somehow manage, and since you are the girl I want in my bed, I’ll happily overlook a stumble or two, especially when I’ll be the one who’ll be there to catch you.”

  Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped open. “Wait…you think I’m going to sleep with you? To keep my restaurant? Have you lost your mind?”

  “It’s a simple matter, Ms. Sparrow. These functions usually bore me to tears, and you’ll do a fine job of keeping me entertained. As for the finer details of our arrangement, I don’t think it’ll take long for you to come around.” He’d yet to meet a woman who could resist him for long, and yet he found it curious that, with Emma, it felt like nothing more than bravado on his part—and damn if that wasn’t a rare position to find himself in.

  She shook her head as a furious blush swept across her cheeks and the swell of her breasts, making his cock go even harder in response. “There’s no way I’m sleeping with you.”

  “You say that now, sweetheart. But if it makes you feel better, then very well…we can table that for now, and revisit that clause in our agreement at a later time.” She’d come around—he’d make damn sure of it.

  “What if I already have a boyfriend? Did you think of that?” She cocked her head as if she’d suddenly won the argument—which she hadn’t.

  “Ms. Sparrow, I saw the way you looked at me in the elevator, and if you do have a boyfriend, he clearly doesn’t mean much to you. Since you seem the sort to be loyal to the guys you date, and knowing the type of schedule chefs normally keep, I’m going to assume that there’s no one waiting for you to get home, and no one who’ll be upset by the fact that I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk a straight line—when you’re ready, of course.” And damn if he wasn’t looking forward to that day—a day he was determined to make sure was damn soon.

  “You’re insane.” Her eyes blazed with fury, but all he could do is think of how he’d put all that heat to some damn good use. Repeatedly. And every which way he could think of.

  “I know what I like—and I know what I want. You can’t fault me for it.” It was how he lived his life. Everything he had, everything he’d built, was because he decided what he wanted, and then worked his ass off to make it happen.

  “No…I’m sorry, but there’s no way I can do this. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to be taken seriously in a male-dominated world. Do you know what it’s like to get male chefs to give you any professional respect as a woman in the kitchen when you want to be more than a prep cook?” Her small but capable hands clenched into fists, color flaming her cheeks. “I refuse to have you turn me into some…object. It’s not happening.”

  “Well, if your pride’s more important than your restaurant, I guess this conversation is over.” He sat back in his chair and picked up some contracts he needed to review. “You can see yourself out, Ms. Sparrow.”

  He wasn’t trying to be an ass, but after years of negotiations, he knew how to get what he wanted. And he wanted her.

  Emma got to her feet, though he didn’t bother looking up from what he was reading, knowing that she’d yet to leave and was no doubt debating her next move and coming up empty. He finally set aside the paper with an exaggerated sigh. “Was there anything else, Ms. Sparrow?”

  Her jaw was clenched tight, but she was looking less stubborn about marching out of his office and sacrificing her restaurant. That said something about her too—that she was smart enough to know what was on the line. “I want some time to think about your offer.”

  “Do you, now? I didn’t realize the offer was still on the table.” He leaned back in his chair with the slightest of grins, tenting his fingers in front of him as he took her in. Before today, he’d only ever seen her from a distance, but she certainly was something to look at, especially w
hen her temper was up. He could only imagine what she’d be like in bed, full of passion, so responsive…Quinn couldn’t wait.

  “Isn’t it?” She cocked her head and pinned him with a steely glare. “Because I somehow doubt you’re done toying with me. Or are you going to tell me I’m mistaken?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll tell you what…you have twenty-four hours to give me your answer. If you have any questions regarding the arrangement, you can call me directly.” Pulling out a business card, he jotted down his personal cell phone number—something he rarely gave out—and held it out to her. “Have a good day, Ms. Sparrow.”

  She swiped the card from between his fingers and stuffed it in her back pocket with a shake of her head, her ponytail bobbing as she spun on her heels, nearly wiped out, and then marched to the door, swinging that fine ass of hers.

  This was going to be more fun than any one man deserved.

  Chapter Three

  Emma rattled off the list of ordered items. “Last ticket of the night. Come on, guys…let’s push this through. Finish strong.” Emma was exhausted, but it felt good, especially since staying busy helped burn through her anger from dealing with Ryker and distracted her from all her problems.

  One by one, the plates were placed in front of her at the pass for her final approval and finishing touches. Once she was happy with the results, she gave her waitstaff the okay to take the dishes out to the diners. She turned back to her crew, four in total, since they were still missing Tony. “Nice job tonight, especially since we were still down a man.”

  She leaned against the counter to give herself a minute before the day’s events invaded her mind, escaping from where she’d locked them away, so she could focus on her job. What Ryker was asking of her was insane. And it didn’t make any sense. Why the hell would he bother to even give her a second look when he could have any woman in the world?

  Jake slipped in by her side, his height making her feel even smaller than her five-two frame normally did. And damn but his looming height did nothing but remind her of Quinn Ryker and the way his hard muscular body had felt as he held onto her during that elevator ride. “Are you all right? You’ve been distracted since you left this morning, and you’ve yet to say how the meeting went.”

  She hadn’t had a chance to really talk to Jake, since things had been so crazy by the time she’d finally gotten back to work. And what would she say anyway? That she was contemplating prostituting herself to save the restaurant and their jobs? Quinn may not have been upfront about that part of their bargain, but she knew it was implied.

  Worse still, she’d likely do whatever it took to keep the restaurant going since without it, she’d never be able to afford the costly physical therapy her brother needed. Nate had been hit by a drunk driver, who’d been uninsured and driving with a suspended license. With the case still in the courts, and little luck they’d get any compensation from the driver, her brother was forced to pay the hospital bills himself.

  Nate had health insurance, but with another party responsible for the accident, his insurance only covered a portion of his bills, and even then that only paid for the most basic therapies, rather than the ones that he most benefited from. Still…he was lucky to be alive after such a horrific accident, and the last thing she wanted was to bail on him when his options were already so few.

  “Honestly? I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. He gave me twenty-four hours to think over his offer, which means that by tomorrow morning, I better have some sort of answer for him.” She let out a weary sigh, and debated drowning her troubles in the chocolate mousse cake they’d had on the menu for the night.

  “Well, what is there to think about? If it’ll save the restaurant…” Jake shifted to look at her—really look at her—his brow furrowed as he analyzed her weary face. “What were his terms? Is he increasing the rent?”

  “If only it were that simple.” She debated keeping the terms from Jake, knowing just how protective he could be of her. “He’s asking for a slightly…different...arrangement. Not one I’m sure I’m ready to accept.”

  Jake’s chocolate brown eyes narrowed as he leaned in just a hair, as if trying to read her mind. “What sort of arrangement, Em? You’re not saying…”

  “Kind of.” She shrugged, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I don’t know, Jake. He said he wants me to accompany him to functions and business trips as his date.”

  His jaw clenched, and he looked ready to punch something. “And he expects you to sleep with him.”

  “Probably, though I told him that wasn’t part of the deal—and he agreed.” Would he honor their arrangement, though, if she didn’t sleep with him?

  She didn’t know Ryker or the type of man he was, though she could probably guess. Billions in the bank, used to getting his way, women falling at his feet… And frankly, after the way her body had reacted to him on the elevator, being in close proximity to him would leave her in far too vulnerable a position.

  “Do you actually believe he won’t try to sleep with you? Because I don’t, Em. And if he hurts you, I’m liable to murder the bastard.” She didn’t doubt it for a second. Jake was her best friend, and had always stood by her side.

  “He wouldn’t hurt me. At least I’m pretty sure about that. He’s a well-known businessman, and he wouldn’t take that sort of risk. But I don’t get what the hell he’s up to. I’m not exactly the supermodel type guys like him normally date.” That was an understatement when she stood all of five two.

  “Those other women don’t hold a candle to you, Em.” He gave his head a shake. “It’d be one thing if you just needed money—I’d happily loan you what you need, but there’s nothing I can do about him renewing the lease. So…I hate to ask, but what are you going to do?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  ***

  After a night of restless sleep, Emma awoke feeling groggy, miserable, and no closer to figuring out whether or not she was going to accept Quinn’s offer. Never in a million years would she have thought the answer to that sort of proposition would be anything but an emphatic go fuck yourself.

  She’d busted her ass getting people in her field to take her seriously, to gain their respect and be treated as an equal. To be looked at as a chef—period—her gender of no consequence. She’d worked hard to get to that point, toiling in restaurants all over the country as she perfected her skills. And now she was debating whether or not she should be arm candy for a billionaire who could have whatever the hell he wanted and who was holding her restaurant hostage.

  She didn’t bother with the heels this time. Nor with the pretty blouse. If he wanted her, then there’d be no pretenses, no facades. He’d get the real deal—who she really was. Not some fantasy.

  After yet another lukewarm and dismally short shower, Emma towel dried her hair, threw on a pair of worn and comfy jeans, and a baggy oversized sweater with a pair of shearling boots. It was October in New England, which meant there was a chill in the air, especially when the wind came whipping in off the ocean. She grabbed her jacket and car keys, and headed out of her building, only to find Quinn waiting for her, straddling a motorcycle—something classic-looking, though it was clearly new, decked out in shiny chrome and metallic black paint.

  Her cheeks flushed hot as she cursed under her breath, suddenly feeling completely flustered to find him on her doorstep, especially when she still didn’t know what she was going to do about his proposition. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’m taking you for a ride up the coast so we can discuss our arrangement.” He had one helmet resting in front of him and another behind him, presumably where he expected her to sit, clinging to him for dear life.

  Well, he could think again—even if she couldn’t get the image of her body pressed against his out of her mind. She needed to focus, especially with someone like Quinn, since she doubted he missed a thing. And she needed to hold onto her anger.

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you
here? And how the hell did you get my home address?” Not that it would be all that difficult to find the information. But that wasn’t the point.

  He flicked his eyebrows up at her teasingly, no doubt fully aware of just how good-looking a man he was. “Don’t go getting your knickers in a twist, Emma. May I call you Emma?” Not that he waited for her answer before continuing. “All your personal information is on the lease to your restaurant. Or did you forget that I’m your landlord?”

  “How could I possibly forget when you’re blackmailing me? Isn’t that illegal or something? And this meeting was supposed to be at your office, not on the sidewalk outside my apartment.” She’d been hoping to decide whether or not to say yes to his proposition during the drive over to his office. Now, she was out of time and still clueless as to what she’d tell him.

  With a shrug and a smile that made her stomach quiver—a smile she was sure was a regular in his arsenal when it came to getting his way with the ladies—he held the helmet out to her. “Here. Change of plans.”

  “Well, I’m not getting on that deathtrap, so you can guess again.” No way. Not after she’d seen the damage of a bad accident firsthand—and her brother had been in a car, surrounded by steel and airbags and safety features. Not simply whizzing around with nothing but a helmet on his noggin for protection.

  He looked over her shoulder to her apartment building, jutting out his chin to motion to it. “So, this is where you live? Looks like a lot of the older details are still intact.”

  “Yeah…like the ancient furnace, drafty windows, and nonexistent hot water.” She was tired of standing there on the sidewalk, but there was little chance she’d be climbing onto his lap—bike. Climbing onto his bike! She tried not to groan. Her crazy schedule didn’t exactly leave a whole lot of time for dating—or all the other fun stuff that came with it. And Quinn might be an ass, but every nerve in her body felt like it had come alive since running into him. Which only made her guard go up. “Are we going to have that meeting or not?”