Blackmailed (2 page)

was depressed. Some blue hair told me it might have been over a

miscarriage. Anyway, one day she was there, the next day she was gone.

-9-
Annmarie McKenna

Wyatt told everybody she went away to get help, but if she did, she never

came back.”

“There are no other children?”

“Sure, but none of them by his wife. Our boy likes to sleep around. A

lot. I found four other kids, all girls, from different mothers, which he

pays for on the side. Handsomely, I might add. Who knows how many

more are out there.”

Cole sighed and rubbed a weary hand over his face. “So what, is this

Brianna ugly or something?”

“Not from the pictures I’ve seen. She’s not beautiful by any stretch of

the imagination, but there’s something about her face. I got a hard-on

looking at her.”

“Well, that says it all right there.”

Tyler laughed into the phone, and Cole laughed with him. The scary

thing was, if Tyler got hard, then Cole would too. His cock thickened

beneath the buttons of his worn jeans just thinking about the women

they’d shared.

“I should get back early in the morning. I’ll talk to you then and see

how this meeting went. When’s the holier-than-thou coming?” Tyler

asked, his voice ringing with mockery.

“I’m waiting for him as we speak.”

Tyler’s grunt resonated through the phone. “And why exactly does he

want this?”

“How the hell should I know? I told you, Freddy received this letter by

courier late Friday evening. By the time I left Caroline—”

“When are you gonna see how big of a bitch she is,” Tyler growled.

“Now see, that’s why I never invite you.”

“I wouldn’t touch that vixen with a ten-foot pole. Someday she’s

gonna grab your balls, your money and your pride, and you’ll never see

’em again.

“She’ll never get the chance.” Cole wondered how he’d lost this

conversation with just the mention of Caroline. “By the time I got home,

it was late, or early I guess. I opened it when I saw it sitting out on the

desk. That’s when I called you.”

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Blackmailed

“And I do so appreciate you calling me in the dead of night. So what?

You think he’s planning on some kind of blackmail? Seems like a risky

proposition, I’m not sure how he’d pull off getting any money out of this.”

“That’s why I pay you the big bucks. To find these things out.”

“You’ve been paying me? I haven’t seen any checks.”

“No, but your company has.” Cole pulled the phone off his ear and

stared at it. Talking to Tyler was sometimes like talking to a two-year old.

“Temper, temper. Tell me again what the letter says. I get that the

man wants an heir, but hell, he’s got fuckin’ five of ’em.”

Putting the phone back to his ear, Cole heard a door slam and the

honk of a horn. Tyler had been in his car then, probably staking out

another one of his deadbeat dads. The man owned a multi-million dollar

security company providing services for very well-off businesses and

people, yet Tyler grew softhearted for any woman who needed help with

her kids. Cole didn’t even know how Tyler’s name had become

synonymous with I’ll-find-your-ex-and-get-you-your-money, but

somehow, word got around. About twice a month, Tyler would come to

him, or simply call, and say he’d be back in a few days. Cole would wave

him away, not needing to remind his best friend to keep in touch.

“The letter says, ‘he is in need of a male heir to pass on his legacy’.”

“Who talks like that?” Tyler barked.

Cole laughed. “You mean besides my own grandfather? Andrew

Wyatt, I guess. Apparently he doesn’t want his ‘legacy’ going to a girl. It

doesn’t seem likely the man will get it done by himself, seeing as he has

five daughters with five different women.”

“So why doesn’t the dick just marry her off to the highest bidder?”

Cole shrugged, an action Tyler wouldn’t see, but he felt the same

way. “I don’t know. If a man were to get her pregnant but not marry her,

the baby’s not a lot better off than the other four girls he’s already got

but doesn’t acknowledge. I think the guy’s a few barrels short of a

brewery, if you ask me.”

“A few barrels…what?” Tyler croaked.

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Annmarie McKenna

“Never mind.” Cole rolled his eyes. He tried to speak again, but his

friend was laughing so hard Cole simply shook his head and hung up the

phone.

A sharp knock on the door alerted him that his most honored guest

was probably about to be announced.

“Master Cole, your guest has arrived.”

“Thank you, Freddy. Make the bastard sweat for a few minutes, then

show him in, will you?”

“Yes, Master Cole.” The man nodded as he backed out of the room.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Cole hid a grin behind the paper he was

studying.

“Yes, sir.”

“You are aware it’s my last name that is Masters, not my first?”

“Yes sir, I am more than aware of that fact.”

Cole lifted his gaze. They’d had this conversation a million times, but

Freddy’s straight-faced answer was always the same. “Okay, just making

sure.” He laughed out loud when the eighty-year-old man, who’d long ago

become part of the family, made an abrupt turn on his heel and left the

office, his shoes silent on the highly polished floor.

Freddy was completely aware of Cole’s chosen lifestyle and sexual

preferences. Sometimes he wondered if the man didn’t get a kick out of

calling him Master, even though Cole’s tastes ran more to the pleasure of

sharing a woman with Ty, than dominating.

His smile faded as his eyes dropped to the contract on the desk in

front of him. Andrew Wyatt was actually trying to pawn his daughter off

to be bred by some stranger like an animal.

He read the words again for about the fiftieth time, fighting both the

nausea and the excitement warring inside him. On the one hand, his ego

boosted to be chosen as a superior⎯Wyatt’s word exactly⎯model for

DNA. On the other, it made him sick to think a father had absolutely no

morals where his daughter was concerned.

Tyler’s background check on Andrew Wyatt had turned up exactly

what Cole had feared. He had no ulterior motives, the bastard simply

wanted to buy his sperm.

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Blackmailed

And what must Brianna be thinking? Were they both in on it? Did

she know about him and what he liked? Did Wyatt know there was a

chance any child born to his daughter might not be a Masters? Obviously

not or Andrew wouldn’t be contemplating this ridiculous scheme in the

first place. Tyler was doing a fantastic job of keeping any number of

rumors about them to just that. Rumors.

The door opened with a click and Cole stood and looked up

dispassionately.

“Aah, Cole. Good to see you.”

I wouldn’t say the same
.

Andrew Wyatt was dressed to impress in an Armani suit. Cole nearly

laughed, as Wyatt took in his own mode of dress. Faded blue jeans, white

T-shirt, and tennis shoes. A sharp contrast to the plush surroundings.

The man’s steps faltered.

“If you need more time to get ready, we can keep waiting.”

Cole spread his arms. “You don’t like what I’m wearing?” He sat back

down, slouching in his chair, epitomizing the exact opposite of what a

wealthy businessman should. Fuck him. He didn’t owe this man

anything, including respect. Wyatt didn’t deserve any, either, whoring his

daughter for the sake of an heir.

Wyatt’s chin lifted. “It’s not exactly appropriate for a business

meeting.”

Cole’s nostrils flared along with his anger. “What business? You’ve

come to my home, on Sunday, my day off, to offer your daughter like

some sacrificial lamb.” A whistling, wheezing noise caught Cole’s

attention. “What is that?”

Wyatt shifted and Cole glimpsed a small figure struggling behind

him. He rose very slowly, counted to ten, and willed himself not to

explode.

“Shut up, you imbecile,” Wyatt snarled. The whistling grew louder.

Cole rounded his desk to get a better look, his anger growing by the

second, praying the bastard had not brought his daughter along for this

meeting. There could be no greater mortification. Unless she was into

this sort of thing, which Cole doubted by the way she was shaking.

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Annmarie McKenna

Wyatt’s shoulder jerked rhythmically with each tug on his hand. The

closer Cole got to him, the more Wyatt turned to shield the woman

behind him. Cole feigned one direction, then darted to the other,

successfully dodging behind the older man.

“Let her go, Wyatt.” Cole’s breathing nearly became as labored as

Brianna’s by what he saw. Her delicate wrists were manacled in her

father’s beefy fist, her hands nearly purple with the force of his grip. She

gasped in and out, each breath wheezing with more force than the last.

Cole was used to having a woman tied up, but not into manhandling.

This produced only fear and pain, not the pleasure that was supposed to

go along with being held tightly. He gritted his teeth and willed Brianna

to look up at him.

A pair of very scared, startled sky-blue eyes finally peered at him

from a pale heart-shaped face. Hair the color of a wheat field was

tumbling out of her ponytail as she fought to be released.

The look on her face clawed at his heart, and yet his cock hardened

to near bursting.

His thoughts raced to having her under him, his cock buried in her

tight, wet heat, those eyes glazed over in passion, not fear. He imagined

her on her knees, those thin, little wrists tied behind her back while she

sucked him off.

“Jesus, must you make that hideous noise all the time?” The harsh

words snapped Cole out of his fantasy. Wyatt flung Brianna away from

him. She would have fallen to the ground had Cole not grabbed her as

she stumbled backwards. “I hope you’re proud of yourself…”

“Where’s your inhaler?” Cole led her to the couch, concern gnawing

at him. He knew instinctively she was having an asthma attack, having

seen his little brother battle the disease for years.

“My p-poc-ket.” She was dressed the same as he, butter-soft jeans

and a pale blue T-shirt. He patted both the front and back pockets of her

jeans, found it in the front, and dug two fingers in. He lowered her to the

cushions and crouched in front of her. With one hand he held the inhaler

to her lips, grimacing at the charge he got when her two wobbly hands

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Blackmailed

gripped his forearm. His other hand went to the nape of her neck,

caressing and calming.

His fingers missed nothing as he stroked her. The softness of her

skin, the silkiness of her hair. Thank God he had the mental wherewithal

to remember her father was still in the room, because he wanted to lean

in and lick at the tender vee of her throat where her pulse beat

erratically.

Again, he wondered how she would look when aroused and nearing

an explosive climax only he, or Tyler, could give her. Her breathing jerked

his mind out of the pleasure gutter.

“Come on, Bri, slow down, take a deep breath.” His heart hammered

as she tried to suck the albuterol into her lungs. “That’s it, let the

medicine work.” Her eyes connected with his, both thankful and fearful,

and Cole felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. Where the urge came from

he didn’t know, but he leaned forward and placed his lips on her

forehead. At the same time, he delivered another puff of the medication.

Her body stiffened and then relaxed into the curve of his shoulder.

Cole became aware Wyatt was still in his demeaning diatribe behind

them, seemingly unaware of the trouble his daughter was having in

fighting for a true breath.

“…Aww, isn’t that sweet. You two have already hit it off. I apologize

for this disgraceful episode.”

She jerked in response to her father’s words.

Cole remained in his squatting position and hissed over his shoulder.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Wyatt.”

Wyatt’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, and a red stain crept up

his thick neck. The man had obviously never had anyone give him a

direct order before. Cole would make sure he knew who was in charge of

this whole scenario, right now.

“You can’t talk to me like that.”

Cole passed his lips over Brianna’s forehead once more and glimpsed

an astonished look plastering itself to her delectable little face. Then he

stood and faced a man who shouldn’t be allowed to be a part of the

human race.

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Annmarie McKenna

“I’ll talk to you any goddamn way I want to.” He stabbed the

egotistical bastard in the chest with his finger, another action Wyatt was

clearly unused to. “This is my home, and you will not treat anyone within

its walls with anything less then respect. Now get out.” His teeth hurt he

was gritting them so tightly.

“Wh-what about the contract? It has to b-be signed,” Wyatt

stammered.

Cole reached a hand around Wyatt’s neck, grabbed the collar of his

shirt, and squeezed the material in his fist. “You’ll get your fucking

contract in a week. No sooner.” Cole twisted his arm so Wyatt was forced