Blackmailed Bride

Sterling picked up the briefcase by his feet and rose. “When can we go over the trust paperwork, Alana? I want to be sure you understand everything for the reversion and signing on your birthday.”

“Tomorrow will be soon enough,” Jonas interrupted. “Supper is served at seven. We’ll see you then.”

Sterling looked at Cathlynn and honored her with a smile that reminded her of a jackal’s glee. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She shivered despite herself and snatched her hand away as soon as she could. There was something about the man that inspired no confidence. How ridiculous, when this old man’s jovial good looks could be mistaken for a trim Santa Claus!

“And Valentin,” Jonas said as the butler reached to close the door, “please return when you’re done.”

“Oui, monsieur.”

The dark glower in Jonas’s eyes, the grim set of his jaw, the coiled sensuality of his movement when he turned toward her had Cathlynn wishing Valentin had left the door open for an easy escape. Not one to lie in wait, she decided to turn the tide in her favor.

“Well, Dr. Shades, care to explain what all that was about?”

“Funny, I was about to ask the same question. What kind of game did you think you were playing?”

“You started it, you go first.” Cathlynn sat back and crossed a leg over one knee, pretending a calmness she didn’t feel.

Jonas turned and walked to the massive English walnut desk nestled in the corner by two banks of bookshelves, giving him height, width and breadth. Did he feel it, too, the strange thickening of air in the room? Did he need the exterior props to shield himself from it? Or did the viscous atmosphere originate with him? He pivoted to face her and skewered her with a dark glare.

“I need a wife.”

“Pardon me?” As her foot slapped the floor, Cathlynn was sure her mouth hung open with disbelief. She leaned forward. Did he expect her to marry him, or just play the part?

“I need a wife,” he said as if it were a perfectly normal thing to say. Chilling apprehension snaked coldly through her. The man was insane!

With his chin cradled over a fist, he cocked his head and looked her up and down. His slow appraising look made Cathlynn feel like one of the antiques he’d put up for auction this afternoon. “Your coloring and height are about right, and you seem to have fooled Sterling.”

“Fooled Sterling about what?” Then it hit her. “You think I look like your wife?”

“Sterling thinks so, and that’s what’s important.”

Cathlynn rose from her chair, sliding her gloves on. “I didn’t come here to discuss my looks, to fool anyone, or to get engaged. I want the Aidan Heart, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Thirteen years is a long time and the changes are plausible,” Jonas continued as if he hadn’t heard her. His gaze lingered disquietingly on the curves of her body. “Alana was raised in Boston, so even your accent works.”

“Thank you for your unadulterated show of approval. Now, about the Aidan Heart—”

“How much is two weeks of your life worth to you?” he snapped sharply, like a man who’d made a decision and didn’t intend to have it contradicted.

“Excuse me?” Again, Jonas’s unmitigated gall caught her off guard. My God, he meant it. She saw it on his face, the uncompromising look of a man used to getting his way.

“Two weeks, how much is that worth to you?”

Cathlynn sank to the chair and sat primly on the unyielding surface, elbows on the armrests. She held her chin high and looked him straight in the eye. “More than you can afford.”

The fluid unfurling of tensed muscles as he rounded the desk and came toward her had her blood tripping through her veins at high speed. What fuse had she lit now?

Cathlynn had the compelling urge to jump up and run, but held her ground. She’d show him she was just as strong as he was.

He leaned down, placing his hands on her chair’s armrest, his fingers brushing her arms accidentally, striking her like hot lightning. He trapped her there with his aura of power and physical might. The heat of his breath caressed her cheek, turning a wave of trepidation in her stomach. His woodsy scent caused a ripple of turbulence along her skin. The cyclone in his storm-darkened eyes pierced her soul and whirled a myriad of sensations, chief among them an acute feeling of danger.

“Play my wife until the Christmas fete, until Alana’s birthday,” he said in a deep low voice that vibrated through her like an approaching storm’s warning thunder. “And I’ll give you the Aidan Heart.”

Chapter Two

“I won’t do it.” Cathlynn ducked under Jonas’s caging arms, and moved toward the door—away from his magnetic aura, from his enchanting scent, from his piercing gaze, which both frightened and exhilarated her at the same time.

“Not even for the Aidan Heart?”

She hesitated, her hand hovering above the doorknob. “You can’t buy me.”

“Yours free and clear in exchange for two weeks of your time. It seems a fair deal for something you want so desperately.”

Damn, he’d pinned her into a neat little corner, hadn’t he? She’d spent most of her adult life looking for the darned thing, and most of her childhood dreaming about it. Now, to get the Aidan Heart, and see her grandmother’s eyes shine once more, she’d have to compromise her standards. She’d have to live a lie when she was known for her honesty. She turned to face him. How far would he go?

“No. I’m sorry, I don’t have two weeks to spare. I have a business to attend to, a grandmother who needs me.”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Jonas said after a short silence. Not even a hint of remorse crisped his stern features. He moved to his desk and riffled through the mess of papers on it.

“I already told you. I’m not for sale. From what I hear, you’re not in a position to make such a generous offer.”

“Idle village gossip. I hadn’t thought you the gullible sort.” He opened a drawer, the solid flex of his muscles beneath the shirt uninterrupted by her barb. He searched the drawer’s contents, slammed it shut, then started on the next. “Everyone has a price.”

“You don’t even know who I am.” Arms crossed over her chest, Cathlynn waited for his next move, icy expectation standing between them.

He stopped suddenly. His shadow loomed long and spectral on the wall behind him. “Your name is Cathlynn O’Connell and you’re an antiques dealer from Nashua.”

His smile caught her off guard. It lit up his face in a most attractive way, and she almost forgot her anger.

“How did you know?” She turned away from the desk, eclipsing his smile from her sight.

He picked up an index card and let it float back to his desk. “Your registration card for the auction.”

He resumed his search and came up with an antique silver frame, then handed it to her, his fingers hesitating for a moment against hers. She took the frame more to break the unnerving contact than anything else, but a warm shiver still managed to snake through her. Even as she focused on the picture, she couldn’t stop the heated hum where skin had touched skin.

The photograph showed the face of a happy bride. The hair color, framed in white lace, was different than hers, she noted—darker, richer. The eyes also appeared darker, but the picture’s colors had mutated with time. The facial features were similar enough that Sterling might put down to maturity the differences in their looks. Yes, the young girl in the picture might have grown into something like her. A shiver crawled along her scalp and slid down her spine.

“Uncanny, isn’t it?” Jonas’s voice startled her from her reverie.

“Yes.” Cathlynn placed the picture on the desk and retreated to the fireplace. She needed warmth to thaw the cold ice clogging her veins.

“Think of this as a vacation.”

“I haven’t said I’ll take your offer.” She rubbed her hands and offered her palms to the heat emanating from the weaving flames.

“I saw the way you looked at that piece of glass.” Jonas came to stand behind her. His presence pulsated along her skin, raising the hairs along her arms in static protest. “I saw how fervently you tried to hide your desire while you bid.” His breath caressed her hair like a Chinook wind. “You want the Aidan Heart more than you want anything else in the world.” His voice wooed her like a gentle spring breeze. “What’s a few weeks of your life for something you want so much?”