Blackmailed into the Billionaire's Bed(22)

She wasn’t here by choice, but her insistent boss had certainly brought her to a beautiful part of the world. As she looked at the fading orange glow of the slowly setting sun, she took in the hundreds of tiny islands, which lay scattered along the peninsula that dripped from the underbelly of Florida, trailing all the way to Key West. Events had unfolded at a speed that startled her, and less than half a day ago, she’d felt reasonably confident that her dishonest yet necessary course of action would remain undiscovered. How wrong she’d been. She glanced at her watch. Exactly fifty-five minutes ago, after a three-hour flight from New York, they’d arrived at Marathon airport in Mac’s private plane. Following a brief respite and a change from Learjet to helicopter, they were now closing in on his private island.

With this in mind, she dragged her thoughts back to the here and now, and the gorgeous sexy man who sat mere inches from her, his eyes shielded by aviator shades as he scanned the horizon.

After what had happened in his opulent office, she knew he was a natural dominant, and he’d left her in no doubt that he demanded full value from his investment. Well, that may sound callous and uncaring, but all things considered, it was the smarter option.

Dragging her mind back to Mac and still feeling slightly guilty for the sexy thoughts that raced around her brain, Kendall drew in a sharp deep breath in an effort to restore some equilibrium to her frayed nerves. If Mac had been a three-hundred-pound slob who spent his days sitting on the couch, watching television while eating packet after packet of potato chips, then she’d have felt disgusted with the forced arrangement. Any woman would. But the situation she found herself in wasn’t like that all, and although things were far from perfect, they’d already gelled when it came to fucking. She figured there was another nine and a half days of being her boss’s plaything. Presumably, after that, reality would kick in, and she’d find herself joining the ranks of the unemployed. Harsh, but right now, she didn’t give a fuck just so long as Ashley turned up alive and well.

Kendall watched entranced as the tropical green palms of Buck Keys grew ever nearer. The closer they got, the faster her heart beat, until she finally held her breath as the chopper, with Mac in total effortless charge, swooped low over the island. A large imposing house perched precariously on a central core of coral rock suddenly filled her vision, making her gasp in surprise. As he banked the helicopter over for another turn, she saw, with the exception of the helipad, that it was the only significant structure on the large private island. Geography wasn’t her strong point, but she guessed the island ran to some ten acres, maybe more.

As the two-seater chopper touched down on the lush green paradise, Kendall was glad when the incessant drone of the single overhead rotor slowed, then finally stopped. By comparison, the ensuing silence was a joy, allowing the tranquil sound of the gently humming cicadas and the uplifting voice of exotic birdsong to take its place.

After removing his aviator shades, Mac turned to her, his gorgeous silver-gray eyes full of desire and expectation. “We’re here.”

Those two simple words, delivered in such a velvety tone, made her stomach clench and her pussy moisten with wanton anticipation. “Thank, God, for that.” She fanned a hand quickly in front of her face to cool herself. There was no air-conditioning in the helicopter, and the debilitating humidity was getting to her, making her face flush bright red.

Or was that simply due to the presence of her boss and jailer?

“I need some air. It’s stifling in here.” The relentless heat really had fried her brain, because she immediately had trouble operating the handle to the flimsy chopper door.

Mac effortlessly leaned across and released the safety catch. “There, honey. Not so difficult when you know how.”

That was the thing with Mac. He made everything look easy and effortless. Problems that other men, lesser men, would find difficult or even insurmountable were simply dispatched with an unshakeable confidence that bordered on arrogance. Not only was he an accomplished helicopter pilot, but he’d informed her he also flew his own personal Learjet, too. That was when business and time were not too pressing.

The way he looked at her, the way his eyes absorbed her body and soul, she figured that very little in this world was beyond the great Mac Buchanan. His background was sketchy and incomplete at best, and even after delving deep into the font of information that was Google, she’d still failed to find out much about his past. She knew he’d come up the hard way though. A real rags-to-riches story. Mac was a self-made man. A guy who made his own luck and didn’t rely on anyone but himself.