Page 21 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

Chapter Five

What the hell was he doing?

She was right. He should go.

Actually, he should never have come.

Christ, she wasn’t the only one who was off balance.

He’d tell her he was leaving and then he’d…leave. He headed back to the bathroom, raised his hand to bang on the door again just as it opened.

His heart skipped a beat. She wore a purple silk robe that skimmed her breasts and ended at midthigh. Her legs were bare. So were her feet, and her nipples poked at the thin silk. And just like that, leaving was no longer an option.

Holy shit.

She peered up at him through her lashes and gave a little shrug. “I’ve no other clothes here, and I didn’t want to put my old stuff back on.” She waved a hand down over her body. “I hope this is okay. Not in violation of our contract or anything. You know—the employee must be properly attired at all times.”

He cleared his throat. A towel was wrapped around her head.

Concentrate on that instead of her nipples.

Her skin was clear of makeup, pale, almost translucent, her eyes huge, her mouth pink and full and…she looked so goddamn innocent.

She was playing with the belt of her robe. Just one tug.

He cleared his throat. She held the half-empty bottle of champagne in one hand, her glass in the other. Without thinking, he plucked both from her fingers, turned, and carried them back into the living room. She followed him. He stopped beside the bed, filled the glass, emptied it in one swallow, then refilled it and handed it to her.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked.

Was he?

He wouldn’t be that low. Would he?

“You’re thinking too hard,” she said, when he failed to come up with an answer. “Anyway, I think it’s too late.”

He ran a hand through his hair, sank down onto the mattress, and thought a bit more.

No, he didn’t want her drunk. But he wanted to wipe some of the strain from her eyes. Of course, that strain might be his fault. Hell, there was no “might” about it.

But he wasn’t letting her go until… Until what? He was sure she wasn’t a danger to society? Or until he was sure she was all right and could stand alone and not fall back into her bad ways? Definitely not until he’d gotten her out of his system, could turn his back and not think of her again. But while he’d always intended to finish what they’d started that night, he’d also meant to give her some space, some time to accept that the desire between them had been real, even if nothing else was.

Clearly, that was before the whole nearly-naked thing.

“Definitely thinking too hard,” she murmured. “You don’t have to, you know.”

“Don’t have to what?” His brain wasn’t functioning. Perhaps because his whole blood supply was heading south to his dick.

“Get me drunk.” She came down beside him, swinging her legs over the edge so they sat side by side, their arms touching. She tugged at the robe so it covered her to midthigh. Her legs were long and slender, and silky smooth, her feet narrow. She flexed her toes a couple of times, then looked up into his face. “Today hasn’t worked out as I expected.”

How had she planned to celebrate her first day of freedom? Perhaps he didn’t want to know. All the same, he couldn’t keep the words back. “What did you plan to do?”

“Nothing. That was the whole point. It was a day where I didn’t have to do anything, nothing organized at least, and there was nowhere I had to be.” She shrugged. “I would probably have just wandered the streets.”

“Someone was there to meet you at the prison.”

Her face closed up. “No, there wasn’t.”

Yes, there was, but she clearly wasn’t ready to talk about whoever it was, and he decided not to push it. She was relaxing—more than half a bottle of champagne would do that. Though she didn’t seem drunk, shewasopening up. She reminded him of the pretty, shy accounts clerk who had entranced him nearly three years ago. The one he hadn’t been able to get out of his head or his dreams since. He had to remind himself that it had all been an act.

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