Blackmailed Into Her Boss's Bed

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Blackmailed Into Her Boss's Bed Page 11

by Sandra Marton


  ‘Why don’t you smile at me, Talia? Why don’t you say all those sweet things you said to Frederico?’

  Tears slid down her cheeks. She had known, all along, that the dark passion she’d felt in Logan’s arms was wrong. Now, the proof was all too real. The next moments would forever twist her dreams into nightmares if he…if he…

  His mouth was at her throat, his breath hot against her flesh.

  ‘Logan. Don’t hurt me, please.’

  Her broken whisper hung between them. Logan lifted his head and stared at her. Darkness veiled his eyes. ‘Talia.’

  She flinched as he lifted his hand to her, but his touch was gentle as he stroked damp curls from her temples.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ he whispered. ‘Talia, sweet—don’t.’ With slow tenderness, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. ‘You’re so soft,’ he said. ‘Are you this soft all over?’

  ‘Please. Let me go. Let—’

  His head dipped to hers, his mouth following the path his hand had taken. Talia trembled as he kissed her tear-stained cheek, her jaw, the corner of her mouth.

  ‘Stop it,’ she whispered. ‘Logan…’

  He hushed her softly while his hand moved slowly over her, stroking her as if she were a frightened lamb lost in the wild. She felt the brush of his mouth on hers.

  ‘No,’ she said, twisting her head away. Logan caught her chin in his hand and turned her face to him, kissing her again and again, each kiss longer and hungrier than the last.

  A pulse began to beat deep within her, embers glowing in primeval darkness began to glow in her loins. Her mouth felt as if it were melting under his.

  ‘Logan…’

  ‘Kiss me, Talia,’ he whispered against her lips. ‘Yes. Kiss me. Kiss me.’

  His hand slid down her throat, over her shoulder, then to her breast. She moaned as he cupped the soft weight. Beneath its silken covering, she felt her flesh swell, felt her nipple engorge as it sought his palm.

  ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘Don’t…’

  But her body, beginning to move slowly beneath his heated caresses, her lips, parting to taste the sweetness of his mouth, turned her softly whispered protest into a lie. Logan groaned and gathered her into the curve of his arm while his hand skimmed over her, following the curves of her body through the delicate silk, then slipping inside the teddy to splay possessively across her naked buttock.

  Talia whimpered as his kisses trailed across her swollen mouth, along her throat, to her breast. His lips closed over her silk-covered nipple and drew it into the warm heat of his mouth. A rainbow of a thousand dazzling colours exploded inside her closed eyelids. She swayed dizzily in his embrace.

  ‘Put your arms around me, beautiful,’ Logan whispered.

  How could she deny him what she herself wanted? Slowly, Talia raised her arms and twined them around his neck.

  Logan laughed softly, the sound so triumphant and primitive that it sent a racing wave of heat through her blood.

  ‘Tell me you want me, Talia.’

  Her body arched like a bow as his hand moved beneath the teddy, cupping the centre of her femininity.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said roughly.

  She buried her face in his neck as he swung her into his arms, carried her to the bed, and lowered her to it. Her pulse raced as he drew back and stripped off his clothing. He was so beautiful, she thought, watching him from beneath half-lowered lashes. His body was golden, hard, aroused and eager for her.

  She raised her hips as he drew off her teddy, then lifted her arms to him while she whispered his name.

  He smiled. Slowly, his eyes never leaving her face, he ran his hand possessively over her, lingering on her breasts, stroking over her ribs and belly, at last finding the delicate flesh that was her core. She cried out and reached out to him again.

  ‘Logan. Please.’

  ‘Tell me,’ he demanded. ‘I want to hear you say it.’

  Talia sighed, and the words she had never before uttered whispered into the silent room. ‘I want you to make love to me,’ she whispered.

  A smile so radiant it was like the rising of the moon flashed across his face. He bent to her and kissed her deeply. ‘Talia,’ he said, ‘Talia.’

  And then there was no more time for talking. Logan knelt above her, parted her legs, and, with one deep thrust, entered her.

  The world tilted, the stars hurtled across the night sky, and, for a heartbeat, the answers to the oldest riddles of the universe were all within her grasp.

  But in the end, as she cried out in ecstasy, there was only one answer that mattered. She knew, finally, why she had run from Logan Miller. He was not, as she’d so carefully told herself, the man she despised. He was, instead, the man she’d fallen in love with.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  TALIA awoke slowly from a deep, dreamless sleep. The bedroom was filled with sunlight, and the rich scent of fresh coffee drifted on the air.

  Smiling, she closed her eyes again and snuggled into the tangled sheets. She was lying on her stomach, the blanket draped at her hips, and the sun felt wonderful on her naked back. She was sleeping nude, something she rarely did. For some foolish reason, it made her feel vulnerable. But she felt lovely now: warm, and relaxed, and…

  Her eyes flew open as memories of the night came tumbling back. Logan, she thought, and she reached for the blanket, pulling it to her chin as she turned over. But she was alone in the bed. Only traces of the man with whom she’d spent the night remained in the sunlit room: the depression in the pillow next to hers, the tangled bed-linen—the feeling of sweet exhaustion in every muscle.

  Warmth radiated through her body. Nothing she’d known had prepared her for what had happened in this room last night. She’d turned to flame in Logan’s arms; their first coming together had been almost savage, each of them seeking the other with primitive hunger.

  The next time had been different. Asleep, her head cradled in the curve of Logan’s shoulder, Talia had been awakened by the brush of his mouth and the gentle play of his hands. He had caressed her, stroked her, kissed her until she had been feverish with desire.

  ‘Now,’ she’d whispered shamelessly. ‘Please, Logan.’

  He’d laughed softly as he’d rolled on his back and taken her with him. ‘We have all night,’ he’d said. ‘There’s no reason to hurry.’

  By the time he’d finally taken her, she had been wet with her own sweat and his. She remembered crying out his name at the end, she remembered the salty taste of his skin—but, most of all, she remembered the way it had felt when he’d settled her in his arms and drawn the covers over their damp bodies.

  ‘Sleep now,’ he’d murmured. Safe and secure within his embrace, she’d closed her eyes and nestled her head against his chest, listening as the quicksilver race of his heart had quieted, and then she’d fallen into a welcome oblivion where there were no dreams. Logan had been the reason for the dreams that had disturbed, and now—and now…

  Talia sat up and swung her legs to the floor. And now, what? she thought, pushing her hair back from her face. Each day she’d spent with him had made it clear that Logan Miller had had his fill of commitment—he wanted nothing to do with that kind of relationship.

  She drew in her breath. What was the matter with her? She didn’t want that kind of thing, either. She had her career, the life she’d so diligently planned. Some time between dinner and dawn, she’d almost forgotten that.

  She got to her feet and pulled on her robe. Last night had just been—it had been sex, that was all. She’d tried to stamp it with a label marked ‘love’. Maybe it was easier to call it ‘love’ than to admit the truth, which was simply that she and Logan were both of age, they were consenting adults who’d wanted to go to bed together, and they had.

  Who was she kidding? She sank to the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. Sex was what she’d had with Keith—a perfunctory joining of bodies that had been quickly over at best and, at worst, vaguely embarrassing.

  What she’
d felt in Logan’s arms was nothing like that. Everything that had happened between them had been natural and right. She’d never felt self-conscious, no matter how intimate his caresses. And she’d wanted his lovemaking to go on forever, to last through the days and nights and years…

  But it wasn’t what Logan wanted. He’d been honest about that from the beginning. He didn’t want commitment—and, as far as he knew, neither did she. It was part of what had made her appealing to him in the first place. He’d told her as much that long-ago night in Los Angeles, he’d repeated it that awful day in Rio…

  ‘Good morning.’ Startled, Talia sprang to her feet. Logan smiled at her from the bedroom doorway. ‘I thought the smell of coffee might lure you out of hibernation.’

  She stared foolishly at the tray and then at him. He looked as if he’d just got out of bed. His hair was mussed and he was wearing only his trousers. Zipped but unfastened, they hung low on his hips. Sunlight dappled his skin with gold and gilded the light covering of hair on his chest and arms. Talia’s heart turned over. How beautiful he was. How perfect…

  Somehow, she managed a little smile in return. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said with teasing solemnity as he set the tray down on the bureau. He leaned back against the door-jamb, his hands tucked into his pockets, and looked at her. ‘Coffee first?’ A quick smile played across his mouth. ‘Or shall we shower?’

  It seemed hard to breathe. If he touched her again, if he made love to her, she would be lost. She would say the words she mustn’t say, the words she’d almost said last night.

  The only safe answer was no answer at all. ‘I—I’m sorry I overslept. I must have forgotten to set my alarm. I’ll only be a minute.’

  ‘Hey.’ He smiled as he came towards her. ‘Is that a way to say “good morning”?’

  Talia swallowed drily. ‘Good morning. Now, if you’d just wait outside while I dress—’

  ‘Talia.’ Logan’s voice was low. ‘Don’t be uncomfortable. We’re still the same people we were last night.’

  Tears stung her eyes with a terrible swiftness, and she blinked them back. She knew he’d meant the words to soothe what he thought was embarrassment. But there was another message in them, as well, although he couldn’t know it.

  They were exactly the same people they’d been last night. Logan still wanted her in his bed. And she—she wanted him. But she knew she had to have his love, too.

  There was only one answer. What had happened between them must not happen again. She would be leaving in just a few days. All she had to do was tell him that last night had been a mistake.

  She drew a breath, then expelled it. ‘I—I’m afraid I’m not very good at this,’ she said with artificial brightness. ‘The morning after thing, I mean. I’ve never quite mastered it. But I wanted to talk to you about—about what happened.’

  ‘Have you had much practice?’

  ‘Much…?’

  His mouth twisted. ‘The morning after thing.’

  ‘Well, I—I…’ Her smile trembled, then faded. ‘No. Not—not much.’ Not any. She had never spent the night with Keith, she’d never wanted to hold him to her heart…

  He smiled. ‘Let me teach you, then,’ he said, cupping her shoulders in his hands. His eyes darkened as he drew her to him. ‘This is how you say “good morning”.’

  Before she could protest, his mouth took hers in a long, gentle kiss she was powerless to resist.

  ‘How did you sleep?’ he asked when he finally let her go.

  ‘I slept—I slept well.’

  He smiled. ‘So did I. In fact, I had the best night’s rest I’ve had in months.’

  ‘Logan. Please. We have to talk about—about…’

  To her surprise, he nodded. ‘Yes. You’re right, we do. But first we’ll have coffee. And then…’ His eyes fell to her mouth, then to the curve of her breasts. ‘On second thought,’ he said thickly, ‘perhaps we’ll leave the coffee to cool.’

  ‘No.’ Her voice was sharp and she swallowed hard before she spoke again. ‘I—I’m late enough as it is. I have—I have appointments…’

  Her breath caught as his hands slid inside her robe and cupped her breasts. ‘Talia,’ he whispered, bending to her and kissing her throat. ‘Sweet Talia.’

  Desire and bittersweet sorrow pierced her heart and raced through her blood, travelling through her body with each swift pulse-beat.

  ‘Put your arms around me, Talia.’ His hands slid to her back, warm against her cool skin, and he drew her to him. ‘Tell me what I want to hear.’

  She knew what he was waiting for her to say. He wanted to hear the admission he’d wrung from her last night, he wanted her to beg him to make love to her. It was what she longed for, too. She ached for his kisses, for the sweet dominance of his body. But there was something she wanted even more, something he wasn’t prepared to give.

  Tears rose in her eyes and she blinked them away. ‘Not—not now,’ she said, twisting out of his embrace. ‘I told you, I have loads of work waiting on my desk. A report. An important one. John’s expecting it. You—you wouldn’t expect me to let something like that wait, would you?’

  He stared at her in silence, his eyes dark and unreadable, and then he let go of her. ‘No,’ he said tonelessly. ‘I wouldn’t. Go on, then. Have your shower. I’ll take the coffee downstairs and we can have a cup together when you’re ready.’

  She let out her breath. ‘Yes. That’s fine. I—I have some things to ask you anyway, about—about that luncheon you’re holding tomorrow.’

  His face lost all expression. ‘A business breakfast,’ he said softly. ‘We can get a head start on the day.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said quickly. ‘Exactly.’

  The smile that flickered across his face was an enigma. ‘I would never have thought of that,’ he said, turning from her. ‘I’ll see you in a little while.’

  Her polite smile collapsed as the door closed after him. She sank to the edge of the bed. How simple it had been to divert his thoughts from her to business. But then, she’d known it would be. Logan Miller had a single-minded dedication to his work.

  She had been like that. She had planned her future with care. She had examined every step before she took it. How had this happened to her? If only she were leaving Brazil tomorrow instead of next week. If only…

  A muffled sob burst from her throat and Talia buried her face in her hands. She could leave Brazil, but Logan would live forever in her empty heart.

  * * *

  She came down the stairs a short time later, looking cool and composed. Logan was seated at the table near the window; he glanced up when he heard the light tap of her heels.

  ‘Ready for business, as usual,’ he said, getting to his feet.

  ‘Of course,’ she said calmly, controlling the tremor of her lips. Her glance moved over him. The sexy, half-nude male who’d been ready to make love to her a little while ago had been replaced by a man impeccably attired in a charcoal-grey suit, combed cotton shirt, and tie. ‘You, too, I see.’

  His lips drew back from his teeth as he pulled a chair out for her. ‘I have a full schedule ahead of me today.’

  She watched him as he poured her coffee. ‘Logan.’ He looked up, and she drew a breath. ‘About—about last night…’

  His laughter was sharp-edged. ‘You’re going to tell me it was all a mistake.’

  Two spots of colour rose to her cheeks. ‘Yes. I mean—’

  ‘Don’t.’ His voice was harsh. ‘Lying doesn’t become you.’ A cold smile tilted the corners of his mouth. ‘You can’t lie about sex, Talia. A perceptive man knows the truth.’

  Sex. She knew that was how he thought of it—it came as no surprise. But it hurt. It hurt…

  ‘It—it was pleasant,’ she said, forcing herself to meet his eyes. ‘But—but it mustn’t happen again.’

  Logan’s eyebrows rose. ‘Mustn’t it?’

  ‘No.’ If only he wouldn’t look at her that way, she though
t, as if she were a laboratory specimen under a lens.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘What do you mean, why not? Surely you can understand—’

  ‘No one need know about us, Talia. We have all the privacy we need up here.’

  Colour rose to her cheeks. ‘I’d never indulge in a—a sordid little affair, Logan. If I wanted to—to become involved with you, I wouldn’t be ashamed of it.’

  He smiled. ‘Good. That simplifies things, then.’

  ‘Simplifies things?’ Talia shook her head. ‘What do you mean?’

  Logan pushed up his sleeve, looked at his watch, and frowned. ‘I’m late for a meeting.’ His chair squealed in protest as he shoved it back from the table. ‘Can you be here at six?’

  She looked at him. ‘Yes,’ she said slowly, ‘I suppose I can. But—’

  ‘I’ll see you tonight, then.’ He started towards her and she thought he was going to kiss her goodbye. Instead, he touched his hand lightly to her cheek. ‘Have a good day,’ he said casually, the way sales assistants did when you made a purchase.

  Talia watched him as he walked to the lift. He stepped inside, punched in the floor number, and the doors slid shut.

  Her heart ached. Logan had never once looked back.

  * * *

  The day moved more quickly than she’d hoped. Bianca greeted her with a problem that needed hours to solve. When she finished with it, it was lunchtime.

  She hesitated at the door to the dining-room. Logan had scheduled a luncheon staff meeting for today, with specific orders that she attend. She dreaded what might happen: a proprietorial glance from him, an unexpected meeting of their eyes…

  ‘Talia.’

  The sound of his voice startled her. She looked up and watched as he strode down the hall towards her, a gaggle of executives at his heels.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I was just—I was just…’

  His smile was impersonal. ‘Jerry’s just told me he’s gone on a salt-free diet. See to it that the chef prepares something for him, please.’

 

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