The Brazilian's Blackmail Bargain

Caleb Cameron. Larger than life, his huge frame filling the doorway. He cocked his head slightly and a mocking smile touched his lips. His eyes captured Maggie’s and she couldn’t look away. They were glacial, moving over her, stripping her. The man who had turned her world upside down that night six months ago was back…apparently to turn it upside down again. She fought strenuously against the shocking pull she could feel in every cell as she reacted to his commanding aura. The room seemed to tilt slightly on its axis as she unconsciously sucked in a breath, her need for oxygen necessary but secondary to the shock after shock that she was reeling from.

Unable to tear her eyes away from his in morbid fascination, she didn’t notice the solicitor precede Caleb into the room and gesture towards her. ‘This is Margaret Holland. Maggie, this is Caleb Cameron, he’s the man who has taken over all of your stepfather’s holdings…including this—’

Before he could say it, she cut in through bloodless lips, ‘I know Mr Cameron; we met in London.’

She sank back down on to the chair behind her because her legs were trembling so much they wouldn’t hold her up any more and looked up, stricken, as Caleb advanced into the room and sat in the chair just vacated by Mr Murphy.

Despite the urbane, debonair exterior, his body clothed in an exquisite suit, he still exuded that untamed potent maleness she remembered all too well. The virile essence of the man couldn’t be contained or disguised by a mere suit. It had bowled her over the first time she had seen him and was having the same effect now, except this time she had the experience of their explosive night together to make seeing him three thousand times worse. And, even though months had passed in the interim, she could feel a hot tide of colour rise up from her chest as countless familiar disturbing images flooded her head.

Caleb exercised iron-willed self-control as he looked her over dispassionately. But despite that effort he couldn’t dismiss the heady rush at seeing her in the flesh again. Her face had paled dramatically on seeing him, almond-shaped green eyes huge in her small oval face, the rich abundant hair pulled back severely. The plain black top and straight black skirt couldn’t hide the curves he remembered all too well—curves she had flaunted for him…yet now she looked thinner. Somehow fragile. And a protective instinct took him unawares.

A vivid memory struck him just then of seeing her for the first time, her hair falling in a mass of vibrant red curls down her back, like some vision from a medieval painting. Freckles stood out starkly against the paleness of her smooth skin as he subjected her to an exacting inspection. He noticed with satisfaction that her cheeks flooded with hectic colour. If he hadn’t known better six months ago, he could have imagined she wore her heart on her sleeve, at the mercy of every reaction showing on that translucent skin. He could have succumbed to a dangerous fantasy. But he hadn’t. Because he had known, almost from the very start, exactly what she was.

Maggie Holland was a mercenary bitch who had tried, with her stepfather, to play him for a fool. Never again.

He could see her throat work as she tried to speak.

‘You…you’ve taken over everything.’ Her voice was faint.

She was so transparent…

It gave him such pleasure to know that he was pulling the rug of wealth from under her deceitful feet. He brought his glance, which had shifted to take in the room, back to her face.

‘Yes, Ms Holland.’

The implied insult in his use of her surname was obvious and a part of her shrank back.

‘As of now, I own every single business interest of your stepfather’s, including this very house. Naturally I declined to take on board his more dubious holdings; the Inland Revenue here and in the UK are currently investigating those and you might find that you’re due to receive some hefty tax bills; they have a surprisingly low regard for offshore accounts that haven’t been declared.’

Maggie stood up, galvanized into action by the explicit threat in his voice. For the first time since she had seen him again, she tore her gaze away and looked at Mr Murphy, who was near the door.

‘Is this true? Can it be possible?’

The older man just nodded his head miserably. She looked back to Caleb, a wild panic rising up. He was utterly unconcerned, as if watching a fly on its back struggling to right itself.

‘But…but how is this possible? I mean, how can we not have known?’ She feverishly went over everything in her pounding head. Even though they hadn’t seen Tom in months…how had they somehow missed noticing the dire straits he was leading them to? And how, for the love of God, was it possible that even now he was reaching out from the grave to ruin them…as if he hadn’t done enough already?

Because he tried to ruin this man in front of you, with your help…

She shut out the voice with difficulty. She couldn’t dwell on that now.

‘Mr Murphy…’ she implored, incapable of saying another word. Her eyes said it all. The solicitor took her arm and led her to sit down on a couch. She was glad of his protection from facing Caleb alone. She refused to acknowledge him, just feet away, willing him to be gone with all of his threatening words and devastating presence.

‘I’m sorry, Maggie, but it is true. Your mother is potentially in debt to the Revenue if they find that Tom was hiding funds in offshore accounts, as they suspect. I can fight the case for you if it comes up, but…’ He shrugged.

It was getting worse and worse. Maggie pressed a hand to her forehead.

Caleb stood up with lithe grace and rearranged his cuffs negligently. Maggie looked at him warily from beneath dark lashes, her heart still hammering painfully. ‘Murphy, I’ll leave the rest to you. Ms Holland, I have nothing more to say to you. I’ll expect you and your mother to be out of this house within two weeks; I trust that will give you time to sort yourselves out.’ He smiled cruelly. ‘I could have exercised my right to take the house today, but would rather you be gone should I decide to move in.’

‘Move in…’ Maggie repeated dumbly.

‘Yes. I’m doing some business in Dublin for a couple of months and need a bolt-hole from the city. This place would serve nicely…’ he flicked a dismissive glance around the room ‘…after I’ve had it redecorated, of course.’

Maggie stood up again, every inch of her body quivering in anger and reaction, this intrusion into their private sanctuary too much. ‘How dare you come in here and speak to me like this, on the very day of a funeral…have you no decency?’

‘Decency?’ He laughed mirthlessly. They had both forgotten the presence of the other man. Standing close to him, Maggie’s head bent back to look up, her throat exposed. She could feel the pulse beat rapidly at her neck. His eyes roved her face contemptuously, his lips curling in obvious distaste at what he saw. ‘You have a nerve to talk about decency…or should I inform our friend here exactly what role you played in your own downfall?’

So this was his revenge. He had gone after her stepfather with ruthless precision and now it was her turn. She looked at him, aghast at his capacity to take vengeance to the very last degree. In his mind she had been just as complicit as Tom Holland and deserved everything she was getting.

Without a backward glance, he strode from the room. It felt curiously flat and drained of colour after his explosive energy had left. She heard the doors close, the car start up, the gravel spurt from under the wheels as he sped away, taking their lives with him. After he was gone, Mr Murphy stood too. Maggie looked at him blankly, still stunned.

‘As you can see, your stepfather bit off a little more than he could chew with Cameron. He’s never been known to suffer fools gladly and when your stepfather made a second bid to topple Cameron’s empire he unleashed the tiger.’

‘The second bid…’

‘Well, actually, it was the third or fourth…Your stepfather really had a bee in his bonnet about Cameron, saw him as the ultimate prize to win. I know you and your mother weren’t aware of most of Tom’s dealings. After he tried to take over the Cameron Corporation by legitimate means and failed, he then went underground…and used other tactics, but still couldn’t do it.’

Maggie felt sick. She remembered all too well her unwitting role in those tactics. It had been she who had been used in the effort to divert his attention for a crucial moment in time. Thank God Mr Murphy didn’t seem to know too much and, after all, it had been in London, not Dublin.

The solicitor continued with a touch of awe in his voice, oblivious to Maggie’s turmoil. ‘Cameron systematically went through every one of Tom’s interests and with a lot more finesse managed to bring him to his knees, which was unusual really; Cameron isn’t known for going after his enemies so arbitrarily and mercilessly—he’s usually happy to cripple their defences, render them impotent.’ He shook his head. ‘Tom must have really pushed his buttons…’

Maggie flushed guiltily. ‘Well, he’s finished us too, it would seem.’

‘Yes.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I’ve looked at it every which way and he really does have it all sewn up. About the Revenue—I’m hoping if it comes to it that we can make a case…I can try to prove that your mother, while being named in the will, had no other part in her husband’s affairs.’

Maggie turned worried eyes to his. ‘But we don’t have anything any more, no money…How could we afford…?’

He patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry about that now. I know how hard it’s been for your mother. I won’t let that man make her life worse than it’s already been if I can help it.’

Maggie felt tears threaten at his kindness. ‘Thank you.’

With a few more comforting words he got up to leave and, after Maggie had closed the front door, she sagged against it. How on earth was she going to tell her mother? She knew this news would devastate her. For Maggie, her worst nightmare had just happened—coming face to face with Caleb Cameron again. She went back into the front room and, for the first time in her life, with a shaking hand, poured herself a shot of brandy and swallowed it back in one gulp.

As Caleb came to a halt in traffic, he struck the steering wheel with such force that drivers around him looked over, but the light of sudden interest in one woman’s eyes went unnoticed. When the lights went green he pulled away sharply, castigating himself. What had he been thinking? He’d always known he was going to ruin Tom Holland after his regular repeated takeover bids—the last one being the closest call. Far too close. The one that had involved her. But the takeover wasn’t what occupied his thoughts.

He’d told Maggie Holland he never wanted to see her again six months ago and yet, within hours of landing in the country, he had to come and see for himself…stand over his final piece of revenge. He could have left it in the solicitor’s hands. So why had he gone all the way out there? To confirm for himself that she couldn’t possibly still hold him in thrall?

But it had backfired spectacularly.

To his utter and complete self-disgust, his body had told him in no uncertain terms that she did indeed have the same intoxicating effect. The minute he’d seen her. And yet now he’d made them all pay. So why didn’t he feel satisfied? Why was her image burned on to his retina? And how the hell did he think he was going to survive in Dublin for two months, knowing she was in the same city?

As if to dampen the desire, he thought back to that night, when she had done everything exactly as he had suspected. Even down to having a room booked at the hotel. She’d brought him up there and seduced him. Exactly as he’d known she would.

But yet she didn’t sleep with you…a small voice reminded him mockingly.

Maybe that was it? He’d never walked away from a woman he desired before and yet he’d walked away from her that night. He still wasn’t sure why he’d left, when he knew he could have had her…without force. Her attraction had been undeniable, it was in every breathless gasp, every eye-dilating look she’d given him. But when she’d refused him herself at the last moment…somehow he couldn’t…He cursed and halted uncomfortable memories. All he knew now was that the unsatisfied ache he remembered had taken up residence again. The ache that had never really gone away if he was brutally honest with himself.

He would have to take a mistress. And soon. He’d been without a woman for too long and that was just what he needed to redirect his wandering attention. And erase Maggie Holland from his thoughts once and for all.