Bowles, Jan - Claimed for the Master's Pleasure [Guilty Pleasures 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Jan Bowles

  Juno shuffled his feet, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “Boss, you wanted to see her. We got the lady here double quick. Just as you wanted.”

  “That’s not what I asked you.” He turned to Moose. The guy looked hot and bothered, and ran a hand over his hair. “So, Moose, you went along with this kidnapping?”

  Moose just shrugged. “I guess so, boss.”

  They were good men, but perhaps went about their work a little too enthusiastically at times. He shook his head. “Do either of you two guys have an ounce of sense?” Jake raised his hands in exasperation. He didn’t want the cops to become involved. As the woman said, kidnapping was a serious offence. Anger surged through his veins, and he pointed to the door. “Just get out my sight, the pair of you, before I kick both your asses. I’m docking you a month’s pay for stupidity.” He wouldn’t do it, but she didn’t have to know that. Moose and Juno had young families to look after.

  “Yes, boss.”

  “Sorry, boss.”

  “Wait a minute.” They both stopped suddenly in the doorway, looking like naughty children waiting to be admonished. “Have you anything to say to Ms. Constantine?” When they looked dumfounded, Jake raised a brow. “I’m thinking of an apology, you dumb bastards.” He guessed she wanted to see some asses kicked for the shoddy way she’d been treated. He was happy to oblige. After all, it wasn’t every day he met a woman who bore a close resemblance to the woman he once loved, still loved.

  Moose nodded. “Sorry, ma’am, didn’t mean to be so rough with you.”

  “We didn’t mean you no harm. I apologize.” Juno bowed his head.

  He watched them both retreat from his office. Left alone, Jake then turned his attention to his guest. “You must forgive my men. They’re not the brightest guys you’ll ever come across. Their hearts are in the right place, although they do have a tendency to overplay things.”

  “Overplay, are you serious? Overplay?” He knew she was angry. “Pulling me off the sidewalk and manhandling me into a car is hardly what I would call overplaying. In my language we call it kidnapping, or even worse. I was so frightened.” She took a deep breath, as if trying to rein in her emotions. “I didn’t know if those gorillas you employ were gonna mug, rape, or murder me. You’re this close”—she held her finger and thumb an inch apart—“to being busted by the cops.” She folded her arms defiantly across her chest to show she meant business.

  Impressed by her sassiness, Jake pointed to the chair opposite his desk. “I apologize once more. Please take a seat, Ms. Constantine. This won’t take long.”

  “Mr. Benetti, I think we’re done here. Don’t you dare try and stop me walking out of this hellhole.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ms. Constantine.”

  “Good.” She turned abruptly on her heels and began walking toward the door.

  Jake calmly shuffled the papers on his desk, before saying, “But out of respect for your father, you need to hear what I have to say.”

  Chapter Three

  “I knew your father very well. He was a good man. I respected him.”

  Lia turned in the doorway and looked back into the opulent office. Jake Benetti sat there as calm as anything, yet she felt like a rug had been ripped from under her. How on earth could her father have known this man? He ran a casino, for Christ’s sake. It was obvious, he had to be making it up. Still fuming at being kidnapped by his two goons, she just stared at him, waiting for God only knew what.

  He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together under his chin, probably contemplating his next move. Like a predator observing its prey, he stared back at her, his emotions unreadable. Short, black hair feathered around his masculine face. Dark stubble stained his strong jaw. His eyes held hers. They were the palest blue she’d ever seen, the color of rare blue ice. Bright, hard, and ice cold, they seemed to cut right through her. At that moment she felt his strength of character. He seemed glacial and calculating—soulless. In fact, he had the perfect temperament for a man who owned a casino. She’d already witnessed his controlling personality at close quarters. The way he’d dealt with his employees left much to be desired. Not that the Neanderthals who’d kidnapped her didn’t deserve his anger. They did. It was just the way he’d spoken to them, like they were shit on his shoe.

  He pointed to the chair opposite his desk once more. “Please sit down, Ms. Constantine.”

  Not wanting to stay, but feeling compelled by his presence, she closed the door, walked across to his desk, and sat down. Lia defiantly raised her chin, trying to appear more confident than she felt. She took a silent deep breath so her words wouldn’t sound shaky and frightened. “Please make this quick, Mr. Benetti. I’ve already been kidnapped at your request this morning.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “May I get you a coffee?”

  “No, thank you. This isn’t a social visit. I don’t believe for a moment that a man like you could possibly know my father. He would never have stepped foot inside a place like this.” She looked dismissively around his office, taking in the framed photographs that covered the walls. They all featured him and a variety of smiling, happy customers, who had just experienced a big win at the tables or slots. It all looked so staged and superficial. Only good manners stopped her from snorting with derision.

  “Your father and I met when I opened my first casino. That was eleven years ago. He’s been a regular ever since. I got to know Fred pretty well. I liked the guy.”

  “It’s a lie. You’re lying.”

  “I’ve seen him at least once a week for the past eleven years.” Jake Benetti pulled out a drawer from his impressive mahogany desk. He took out an ornate, silver-framed photograph and handed it to her. “This was taken three years ago, when your father won big playing blackjack. He took Arabian Nights Casino for over two hundred thousand bucks that day.”

  With trembling fingers, Lia studied the picture. Jake Benetti stood tall. He was immaculately dressed in a sharp designer suit. Next to him stood her father. His face beamed with happiness. In fact, they both had big smiles on their faces. The casino owner’s arm was around her father’s shoulder. She knew her father well enough to know that his happiness looked genuine.

  Lia felt her forehead frown in bewilderment. It just didn’t fit in with what she knew of her father. Fred Constantine had been an upstanding member of the community. He’d run a grocery store until he’d retired two years ago. People who’d met her father respected him. Surely she would have known if he were a gambler?

  “This doesn’t make sense,” she murmured, voicing her misgivings out loud. “Are you saying my father came here regularly, and gambled in your seedy casino?”

  Jake Benetti waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t you think you’re being rather naïve? Why else would your father come to a casino?”

  Lia knew then that her mother’s hatred of gambling must have come from her father’s compulsive habit. Her mother had kept it a secret until the day she died. Mary Constantine had been a devout Christian woman. She’d obviously found it difficult to deal with. It made her realize that she’d never really known her parents. Not really.

  She handed the photograph back to Jake Benetti. “I’ve seen enough.” She still found it hard to believe that her beloved father was a gambler, but the evidence was overwhelming. “Okay, I live in the real world. I’m disappointed to admit that my father came here. He’s not the first, and he certainly won’t be the last. Not when vultures like you entice decent, honest people like my father to part with their hard-earned money.” Her remarks were cutting and designed to hit their mark. His eyelids flickered briefly as he absorbed her harsh words. Satisfaction coursed through her veins. So, Jake Benetti wasn’t quite as cool as he tried to make out.

  He drew in a deep breath. “Ms. Constantine, we come to the reason why I sought this meeting with you.”

  “Yes, I’d be interested to know why I was forced into a car by two huge men and dragged here at your request, Mr. Benet
ti.” She spat the words out with undiluted venom.

  “May I apologize once more for the way my men behaved?”

  “You may, but I still don’t accept it.”

  He continued, “Out of respect for you and your father, I’ve waited an appropriate length of time before contacting you. It is only right that you should have an uninterrupted grieving period.”

  “What the hell do you know about grieving? I’ve only known you for half an hour, but I can already see you’re nothing more than a cold, soulless man.”

  Lia expected him to respond to her caustic remarks, but he didn’t. Instead, he calmly said, “When your father died, he left an unpaid casino marker.”

  “Marker?” Her brows drew together.

  “Think of it as an unpaid check.”

  “Are you saying my father owed you money?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Ms. Constantine.”

  It was a shock to discover her father was a gambler, and even worse that he’d left a debt behind. So Jake Benetti wanted it settled. Her father had left her a significant amount of money in his will, along with the family home they’d all shared with her mother, until she’d died five years ago. Lia was the only beneficiary, making her legally responsible for any outstanding debts. It might put the plans for growing her personal trainer business on hold for a little while longer, but she’d always been taught by her parents, and especially her father, to pay her way in the world. Lia glanced at her watch. “I need to be going, Mr. Benetti. Unlike you, I have to work for a living. If you can show me legal documentation proving how much my father owed you, then perhaps we can settle this small matter once and for all.”

  Jake Benetti shuffled the papers on his desk, and cleared his throat. He lifted his gaze to hers. His ice-cold eyes drilled into her. “The amount owed is significant.”

  “Mr. Benetti, quit the small talk. Are we talking hundreds, or even a few thousand dollars?”

  His eyes fixed on hers, like cold chips of ice. “When your father died, he left an unpaid casino marker of almost 1.3 million dollars.” He flicked through the paperwork on his desk once more. “One million, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. To be precise.”

  Like a fish lying on a riverbank, her mouth opened and closed several times as she gasped for air. Had she heard correctly? More to the point, had her father lost his mind? What on earth had possessed him to lose more than a million dollars in a place like this? Like a bolt from the blue the answer came to her. The therapy course her father had paid for when she couldn’t cope after the death of her fiancé, Joe. The bill for that would have run into thousands, possibly even tens of thousands. But the thought of almost 1.3 million bucks left her speechless. He’d left her a little over two hundred thousand dollars in his will. What the hell had happened to the rest?

  She looked across the desk. Jake Benetti sat there as calm as anything. “You must take some of the responsibility. Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “Everyone who enters a casino is an adult, Ms Constantine. People make choices, some good, some bad.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. On a personal level, your father was a great guy. On a professional level, I have to think of my profits. I have shareholders to satisfy. I simply can’t write off a debt that large. Believe me when I say it’s nothing personal, but Arabian Nights Casino will be claiming against your father’s estate.”

  “But…that’s everything gone.” Her mouth felt dry as a bone, and her heart beat erratically. Just when things were beginning to ease financially for her, this parasite had thrown her a curveball. In order to honor her father’s debts, she’d have to sell the family home, and hand over all the cash her father had left her. Even then she’d still come up a few hundred thousand dollars short. There’d be nothing left. She’d be homeless.

  “I’m sorry to be the bearer of such bad news.”

  “No you’re not, you’re enjoying every minute of it,” she answered almost hysterically. Perspiration covered her brow, and she felt like she might vomit. “This is an everyday occurrence for you. Taking decent people and bringing them down to your level.”

  “You’re entitled to your point of view, Ms. Constantine. May I get you a glass of water? You don’t look too well.”

  “Glass of water? Glass of water? How about you write it all off. You must have made millions out of my father over the years.”

  “That’s not how this business works, but out of respect for your father, I can reduce the debt by thirty percent, taking the total owing to less than a million bucks. In this business that sort of generosity is unheard of.”

  “A million dollars. You say it as though it were nothing. The total value of my father’s estate might not even be worth that much, so your generosity is as genuine as you are.” Her lip trembled in indignation. Lia stood abruptly, and turned toward the door. The whole room swayed around her, darkening by the second. “I’m not willing to pay a two-bit hustler like you a single dime. I’ll see you in court,” she finally managed to blurt out.

  Chapter Four

  Jake watched Lia stagger and then drop to the floor unconscious. Quickly, he moved around his desk and scooped her submissive body into his arms. As he looked down into her beautiful face, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his dead wife. Lia was so much like her.

  Jake closed his eyes, feeling the pain all over again. He’d loved Hannah deeply. How he wished the beautiful young woman lying in his arms was Hannah. He breathed in, trying to rein in his emotions. He’d shut them away for so long now, yet they were still as raw as ever. They cut like a knife directly into his heart. A heart he’d thought had died with her.

  When he carefully laid Lia on the couch, her silken hair drifted over his wrist. Without thinking he took a handful in his fist. It was soft and feminine. The strands flowed freely through his fingers, reminding him even more. Jake gritted his teeth and moved purposefully away. Like an electric current, Lia Constantine’s presence unnerved him. For three years he’d not looked at another woman. Jake knew he was taking far too much interest in her. He didn’t want to be alone with Lia, yet he felt drawn to her. She reminded him so much of what he’d lost.

  Jake flipped the switch on the intercom and spoke to his secretary. “Madeline, get your ass in here. We’ve got a fainter.” His voice sounded gruff and bad tempered even to his own ears.

  When Madeline entered his office, she shook her head. Her strawberry-blonde hair bobbed from side to side. “I bet this girl hasn’t even had breakfast yet. Or maybe she just couldn’t stomach what you had to say.”

  “Madeline, business is business. I can’t go getting all soft now. I’ve got shareholders breathing down my neck. At the end of the day, profit is all they understand.”

  He knew his secretary disapproved of his harsh methods. She said it as it was. She always had. But because she was an excellent personal assistant, Jake allowed her to voice her strong opinions, far more than any other member of his team. Besides, he liked Madeline. She kept his feet firmly on the ground.

  She began softly tapping Lia’s face. “Wake up, darlin’.” Madeline looked at him briefly. “Say, Jake, don’t you think this girl looks a lot like Hannah?”

  Jake turned away, pretending to be uninterested. “I can’t say I’ve noticed,” he lied, and then, changing the subject, added quickly, “I’ll get a damp towel. Maybe that will revive her.” Glad for the diversion, Jake strode across to his adjoining en suite bathroom. He stared stony faced at his reflection in the washbasin mirror as he ran a cloth under the tap. “Selfish fucker.” Did he even know himself? He’d spent three years in self-inflicted solitude, licking his wounds, trying to come to terms with Hannah’s death. He missed her now as much as the day she’d died.

  When he pushed open the en suite door, Lia looked a little better. Color had begun to return to her cheeks, and her eyes fluttered as she slowly came back to consciousness. He handed Madeline the damp to
wel, and she gently placed it on Lia’s brow.

  They’d had fainters before. Mainly grizzled, old compulsive gamblers pretending to have heart attacks just to get out of paying their debts. Most people paid up, especially when he threatened them with Nevada state law.

  His secretary nodded. “She’s coming round.”

  “Good. I’ll run her home.”

  Madeline looked at him, raising a brow. Just like his mother had when he was young, she made him feel like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “My, you’re feeling unusually benevolent today, Jake.”

  “I’ve got a heart, Madeline. I just have to dig a little deeper than most, that’s all.”

  “Hmm, I was beginning to wonder.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jake raised his hand. “No, don’t say it. Like everyone else working here, you think your boss is a cold, heartless son of a bitch.”

  Madeline shook her head and giggled softly. “You never used to be so cold and aloof, Jake. When I first started working here, you were a real fun guy to be with. Everyone else will tell you the same. But since Hannah—”

  “That’s enough, Madeline. I like you, but remember you’re an employee of Arabian Nights Casino, the same as everyone else.”

  In the past half hour he’d had his ass well and truly kicked by two women. First by Lia Constantine. Her acerbic observation of his personality had been cutting, and so very close to the truth. Even he recognized himself. Now his secretary had joined in the feeding frenzy, too. Feeling outnumbered, he stalked back to his desk. He placed the legal documents required to claim on Fred Constantine’s estate back in the safe.

  He scanned the documents one last time before securing the heavy, reinforced door. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tear them up. There was a paper trail going all the way to her father’s bank account and back again. With insufficient funds in Fred Constantine’s account, the bank had rejected their claim. Then the news filtered through that he’d died. The shareholders would want to know what had happened. They would insist on a claim being made on his remaining estate.