For Blackmail...or Pleasure (free sample)
COPYRIGHT
For Blackmail...or Pleasure by Robyn Grady. Copyright 2008 by Robyn Grady.
All Rights Reserved. Sharing not permitted.
FOR BLACKMAIL... OR PLEASURE
Robyn Grady
This book is dedicated to my husband, a gorgeous alpha male--with a conscience.
With thanks to my editor-in-a-million, Melissa Jeglinski.
ONE
"What a coincidence. Just the person I needed to see."
Donna Wilks recognized the deep, deceptively pleasant voice at her back and choked on a mouthful of champagne. The surrounding black-tie hype vanished from conscious thought. She forgot that tonight was the most important of her career and its success could help so many. As she slowly turned, only one thing registered. Soon she would come face-to-face with her past.
Tate Bridges, Australian broadcasting mogul--the man who had shattered her heart.
Gathering herself, Donna met his eyes and lifted her chin. "I don't believe in coincidence. What are you doing here?" She paused to smile at a passing senator then snapped at Tate. "And what the hell do you want with me?"
His darkly handsome face creased in pretended offense. "After five long years? Perhaps a kiss hello is too much to expect--"
She cut him off. "Sorry. I don't have time for this right now."
Tate's casual charm was not only entrancing, it could also be deadly. Whatever lay behind this convenient meeting, it ended now.
As she spun away, her stiletto snagged on the carpet. Gasping, she tipped sideways at the same instant strong arms shot out to catch and reinstate her, front and center. So close, Tate's sensual mouth grinned. His ocean-blue eyes did not.
"If I were you, Donna, I'd make time."
Senator Michaels, a slight and eager man, had circled back.
"Sorry to interrupt." The senator gave Tate a wary glance, pushed silver-framed spectacles up the bump on his nose and spoke to Donna. "Just want to say--fabulous turnout. The ballroom looks spectacular. Tonight's benefit will not only raise Sydney's awareness of your cause, but hopefully plenty of support--" he tapped his back pocket "--precisely where it counts."
As the senator melted back into the animated crowd, Tate glanced indolently around the room. "The senator's right. An impressive turnout for a very worthy cause." He thanked a waiter, accepted his trademark martini and swirled the green olive back and forth. "You always were a crusader. Guess this kind of goal comes with the territory."
Recovered from her near spill, Donna smoothed back a strand of blond hair fallen loose from her chignon. "If you're interested in my efforts to supply more crisis accommodations for abused women, see my assistant." She indicated a bright-eyed brunette who sat with an attentive group by a white baby grand. "April will be more than happy to note your donation."
"Oh, plenty of time for that."
His mouth closed around the olive. Lidded eyes fused to hers, he slowly withdrew the toothpick and leisurely chewed.
A bevy of sparks chased up her legs. Shivering, she ran a damp palm down her black satin sheath and tore her gaze away. He transformed a simple gesture into a deliberate, sensual act so easily. Confident. Sexy.
Way too dangerous.
Only one thing terrified her more than falling for her ex-lover again, and that was defying him.
After his father had passed away, Tate had claimed the title chief executive officer of TCAU16--and it wasn't long before enemies both inside and outside the television network had learned that Tate Bridges was a man neither to refuse nor ignore. After almost a decade winning every big business battle he'd instigated, he'd become known as Australia's Corporate King, though she doubted the title itself impressed him. Tate thought in terms of tangibles, like building, and cementing power in every aspect of his life.
Once she'd been in awe of him. Tonight, for more reasons than one, she wished only to escape.
Skimming a glance over the dazzling evening gowns and crisp dinner suits adorning the ballroom, she stifled a worn-down sigh. "Okay. You have my attention. Can we please just cut to the chase?"
This fund-raiser evening had been organized by the same philanthropic organization that had donated to her project's establishment costs. Every valuable contact she'd ever made was here. She could not afford to waste one moment of networking time.
"I want you to help prevent an injustice."
The muscles in her midsection knotted.
His request was intended to convey a noble slant as well as a dash of flattery. She might not be able to will away the physical attraction crackling between them, but if he thought she was still that gullible twenty-three-year-old who had hung on his every word, he could guess again.
Her voice was low and laced with indignation. "You think you know me. Appeal to my sense of valor and I'll bow to your bidding."
He raised a brow and sipped his martini.
That same air of entitlement had drawn her to him all those years ago. Nothing attracted her more than a man who was self-possessed--unless it was a man who was self-possessed, built like a power athlete, and made love with a finesse that left her breathless.
