Seduction and Surrender (The Billionaire's Temptation Series) (3 page)

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?”

His eyes narrowed just a little, as if taking her in and analyzing her for weak spots in her armor. “We can head up to your place, if you’d prefer. Or are you going to let me take you for a ride? I promise you’ll enjoy yourself, darling.”

There was no way she was letting him into her place. It was the size of a mouse hole, and though she made the small space work with a loft bed and by utilizing every square inch, including the vertical spaces, there was no way it was the place to conduct a business meeting. Not to mention, the thought of her alone with him in that small space…she didn’t trust her body—or him—to behave.

“Hop on, Emma. You’re out of options, and I want to go for a ride. Burn off some energy.” He held out the helmet to her as she cursed under her breath, her heart galloping. He must have seen it, too. “Don’t look so worried. I’ll take it slow—and you have my word, I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me.”

She couldn’t believe she was going to do this. Of all the asinine things.

His sultry smile kicked up as she grabbed the helmet and climbed onto the bike behind him. Adrenaline already had her blood pumping frantically through her veins, as she shifted in her seat, her body pressing against his.

Quinn looked over his shoulder at her with a disarming smile and got ready to put on his helmet. “Just get your helmet on and then hold onto me nice and tight.”

She did as he asked while the bike roared to life beneath her with a low reverberating rumble that worked its way to her very core. Before she knew it, they were off as she clung to Quinn for dear life, her arms wrapped snugly around his muscular torso.

True to his word, he kept his speed slow as they rode down to the port and then along the ocean. By the time they were outside of Portmore, she was still clinging to Quinn’s impressive form, though she finally managed to relax enough to get back some of her senses—her surroundings, the wind whipping around them—and the feel of Quinn’s body against hers and the effect he was having on her.

The hard vibrations of the bike as she straddled the seat certainly weren’t helping matters, and it was nearly impossible to not want to climb into Quinn’s lap, her throbbing clit aching for release, and her nipples hard against his broad back. It’d be a miracle if she didn’t come the moment he looked at her with one of those sultry smiles of his, though being so turned on had, at the very least, distracted her from her fears and worries.

Quinn didn’t take them too far out of town, finally pulling over by a rocky bluff that overlooked a sea sparkling in the sunlight. With their helmets off, he reached around and gave her a hand off the bike, as if anticipating that her legs would be shaky. If only he knew the truth of it. “Easy there. Don’t want you hurting yourself.”

Still holding onto her hand, he slipped off the bike and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him as he brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. His touch was warm and his proximity had her sucking in a breath as she tried to ignore the effect he had on her body—a body that was already riding a razor’s edge. Between his height and muscular build, he felt like a force of nature, impossible to ignore.

“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” With his scent filling her head, it took all she had to focus on his question, and the reason she was there. She wanted to be angry with him, wanted to push him away, but having him so close after that cursed bike ride was causing her synapses to misfire.

“It’s fine until there’s an accident and someone gets their head cracked open.” Or ended up so mangled, they’d never be able to fully recover.

His green eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Emma. Ever. You’re safe with me. I hope you know that.”

Suddenly, he felt too close and with her emotions riding just below the surface, she needed some space, some air that didn’t carry his masculine scent, and she needed to remember that he was holding her restaurant hostage. “You’re not the only one on the road, Ryker.”

“Call me Quinn.” When she tried to pull free of his embrace, he let her go, though she didn’t get far before he grabbed her hand and twined his fingers with hers. “Come on.”

She wanted to ask him where they were going, wanted to tell him that she needed to get to work, that she didn’t have time for walks on the beach. Instead, she let him lead the way over some rocky outcroppings, the smell of the salty sea and the cries of the gulls overhead soothing her rough edges. As busy as things were with work, she didn’t get to the beach as often as she’d like. Pity, too, since it was one of the reasons she’d moved to Portmore.