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Book - Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brewer
Date of Release - 5/19/2014
Author - Rachel Lyndhurst
Blurb :
Piper Reilly is in trouble. She needs a
cash infusion, and she’s just left a scorching hot man in Florida to get her
life in Colorado back on track. Then her surfside one-night-stand turns out to
be her new boss, billionaire Matt DeLeo, with an offer she can’t refuse—agree
to be the face of his brewery’s newest concoction or lose her job. A few weeks
modelling for the billionaire playboy and her money worries are over, and she
can definitely resist Matt’s gorgeous smile and muscular, tattooed arms—it’s strictly
business.
Matt
DeLeo is in trouble. He’s found the perfect woman to sell Passion Creek
Brewery’s newest brew, but if he wants her on his posters, he’ll have to keep
his hands to himself. But all he wants to do is drink in Piper. And once the
launch is over, it will take more than blackmail for Matt to get his way.
Chapter One
She was real…
Matt
DeLeo, ex-IT entrepreneur and billionaire microbrewer, clutched a paper bag of
groceries to his chest as he jogged along Periwinkle Avenue, Sanibel. The early
morning Florida sunshine was warm on his face and a grin spread across his
lips.
No
doubt about it: he was wide awake and his dream woman really did exist. The
flame-haired goddess he’d left sleeping in his bed fifteen minutes earlier had
soft curves, fragrant skin, and a cinnamon-sweet mouth. Even her name sent
shivers of pleasure up his spine. Piper…Piper Reilly, the supple shell collector
he’d watched from a distance over the last six days, was a revelation. When
she’d finally stepped into the Parrot Bar last night and asked for a Long Slow
Comfortable Screw Up Against a Cold Hard Wall with a Kiss, it was as if an
atomic sex bomb had exploded in the room. She had stolen his breath and now,
after a night of passion he would never forget, he was just a few yards away
from breaking one of his own rules of engagement with women.
He
was going to make the green-eyed siren breakfast.
He
knew little about Piper Reilly, but he did know she didn’t drink beer and she
hated the color pink. No problem, he could fix that. Living in Florida, she’d
clearly never tasted any of his Colorado microbrewery’s beer.
Today,
he felt great. This was the life, the reason why he’d made his millions in IT,
quit working for other people, and started his own business. Three years of
twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week had taken its toll, and he deserved
his reward. And the best things had been worth waiting for: freedom,
philanthropy, and now, the perfect woman. He’d been imagining her for so long
and now she had walked into his life.
He’d
done the right thing coming south to scout new opportunities for his brewery
business. Life was good here, the sun shone, and people drank a lot of beer. He
only had to finish the big spring beer launch back in Colorado and then he’d
start Project Florida. And Project Piper. He’d come back in a few weeks and
they could pick up where they’d left off.
Except
he didn’t want to leave her for more than fifteen minutes. He had to go back to
Passion Creek, because he had commitments and jobs to secure in Colorado before
he moved on. There was no way around that unless she went with him. He bit down
on his bottom lip. “Now why would a girl I’ve only just met want to do
something as crazy as that?” He realized he was talking out loud and clamped
his jaw shut.
He’d
offer her the trip of a lifetime, all expenses paid, and tempt her back to Colorado
with him. She’d laughed in his face the previous night when he’d told her he
was a retired computer tycoon who tended bar from time to time just for fun. He
hadn’t wanted anyone to know he was checking out the Sanibel bar scene
undercover. He’d tell her the truth over breakfast.
She
was self-employed, so if she came to Colorado with him, he’d introduce her to
more business contacts than she could ever dream of getting on her own. And,
God, she was gorgeous. Stunning enough to be a top model…
“Holy
crap.” Matt’s feet left the ground as he punched the air. He could see it now
as clear as day; she’d be the perfect woman to advertise his new beer.
Passion
Creek Brewery discovers America’s favorite poster girl…you’re still a genius,
man!
Why
would she turn down an all-expenses-paid trip to Colorado that promised fame
and fortune? She wouldn’t, he knew it.
“Have
I got a surprise for you, Miss Reilly,” he murmured as he reached the back
steps of his rented condo.
Breakfast
in bed and an offer you can’t refuse.
Matt
hitched the groceries against his ribs and let himself into the small condo.
Silence. The bag crackled annoyingly in the narrow kitchenette, and the coffee
machine was making loud noises. His heart beat faster as he peered around the
doorframe toward the living area with the fold-down bed. Cold air swept down
over his brow. The bed was empty. The bathroom door was wide open to show that
it, too, was empty. There was no note, just the faintest trace of her melon
scent.
Blood
pounded in his ears as a cold, rational voice in his head chimed that one-night
stands were like that. People just got up and left sometimes, and he should
know because he’d done it enough times himself. Why would this be any
different? Except it was different. It wasn’t
him who’d walked out the door. Karma had sneaked up behind him and bitten him
right on the ass.
He
slid his hand into his back pocket and the corner of a business card pricked
the tip of his middle finger. Phew. It was still there.
All he needed to track her down.
And
he would. What was the point of being rich if you couldn’t find the one woman
you needed?
…
Sanibel Island seemed
a world away already.
Piper
Reilly cringed as her key ground in the lock of her apartment’s front door.
She’d been meaning to rub some oil into the workings for weeks, but something
always seemed to happen to distract her.
The
cold air of Passion Creek, Colorado, didn’t help matters. Her hometown had been
too cold for months for Piper to want to leave the door wide open just to oil
the lock.
She
nudged the door open with her knee and was hit by a blast of warm air and TV
audience laughter. Her sister Sophie had it turned up loud.
Piper
took a deep breath of foul air, burned popcorn, and soiled cat litter. Sophie
hadn’t been too hot on the housekeeping while she’d been away. “It stinks in
here.”
“Hi
Piper!” The voice from within was cheerful, but Sophie didn’t bother to move
off the sofa before saying, “It’s the litter box, hun, massive disease risk.
The doc says not to touch it on account of being pregnant.”
Piper
bit back a sarcastic reply and squeezed her eyes shut. Her cell phone vibrated
in her pocket. If the doc could see the sink full of dirty dishes she just
glimpsed, he’d probably conclude Sophie’s immune system could handle anything.
“I’ll deal with it in a sec. Where is that cat anyway?” On cue, a blur of
silver shot out from behind the sofa and threaded its sleek, velvety body
around her calves like a furry eel. “Still here, huh? Did
Sophie
let you out at all?”
“Lazy
thing doesn’t want to leave,” Sophie said. “I opened the front door a few
times, but she ran and hid under the bed. Looks like she’s chosen you as her
new owner, big sis.”
“Or
you?”
“No,
she tries to scratch me every time I pet her. That savage beast is all yours.”
“You’re
not a beast, are you?” Piper bent down and picked the cat up. “Maybe one of
those phone messages is your real owner who’s seen the found notices I stuck up
all over Passion Creek.”
“Or
the cops warning you about littering.” Sophie chuckled.
“That
would be just my luck.” She ran the palm of her hand over the cat’s middle and
sighed. “And she is pregnant, isn’t she?”
Sophie
nodded sadly. “Yep, no doubt about it. You’ve got two homeless hussies on your
hands.”
She
was dirty, tired, jetlagged, hung over, and, she realized after glancing at the
email that had just come in on her cell phone, had just thirteen hours to scrape
together an office outfit before starting a new temp job in the morning. She’d
been dying for a good night’s sleep, but if she didn’t clear up the airborne
toxins, it would probably mean none of them would actually wake up in the
morning. Her throat felt dry.
“Can
you put some coffee on, Soph?” Piper’s stomach clenched as she dragged in her
suitcase. Last night should not have happened, for so many reasons. A one-night
stand with a complete stranger? What was she thinking? “Got work in the morning
and I feel like crap.”
“So
don’t go.” Sophie bounced up from the
sofa with a grin, her pink, sweater-clad pregnancy bump looking a gigantic
marshmallow.
“I
have to go.” Piper wished for once that she didn’t have to be the sensible,
reliable sister. It had been fun to let it rip in Florida, but now it was over.
“We have no other regular income right now, remember?”
Sophie’s
freckled nose twitched and her blue eyes grew wide. “Business slow?”
“It’s
doing fine, sweetheart, but silvering pretty shells for a living only works for
one person, not two with a baby due any day. Still, I just got an email to say
I have a temp gig in a finance department tomorrow.”
She
pushed the three unanswered texts on her phone from the one night stand boy,
Matt DeLeo, to the back of her mind. And then remembered the two unanswered
calls she’d let go to voicemail. The unknown number was probably him as well.
What would be the point of further contact? They lived thousands of miles apart
and he was a self-confessed bum. A bum with a body like a Renaissance marble
statue. She shook her head to dislodge the memory and winced. She didn’t
remember giving him her cell phone number…
“I
guess your money problems are my fault for turning up here on New Year’s Eve
with a bun in the oven and nowhere to go?” Sophie said.
Piper
almost laughed at the drama her little sister injected into her words. Four
years younger than Piper, Sophie had always been a pro at turning on the
waterworks. “I would never turn you away, and you know it. This arrangement is
only temporary, right?”
Sophie
sniffed and picked at a spot of pink fluff on her tummy. “I couldn’t go back to
Alessandro, you do know that? And Mom and Dad are still angry I hooked up with
him in the first place. I don’t think they’d have me back even if I begged.”
“You
could try. They’ll come around when the baby’s here, trust me. Why don’t you
give them a call and try to make up?” Piper yanked open a kitchen drawer. “You
may even change your mind about letting Alessandro back into your life, but
somebody has to pay the bills in this place while you sort your life out.”
“You
were the only one I could turn to.”
“I
know. It’s okay,” Piper said gently, “but I could really use some help around
the place from time to time. Cat poop excluded.”
Sophie
smiled gratefully. “You could always ask the old man for a loan.”
Piper
slammed the drawer shut hard, a roll of trash bags gripped in her hand. “Are
you crazy? Mom sold Aunt Jean’s bead collection to get me through college as it
is. I can look after things myself just fine. And you, lady, can do your own
dirty work and ask Dad for money.”
“I’ll
bet you’re too proud to even let them pay for your wedding when your turn
comes.”
“Wedding?
Jeez, everything about this town has to do with love, weddings, happily ever
afters, and pink. So much sickly, disgusting pink. One more wedding commission
will probably make me sick, but I need all the money I can get. Correction, we
need
all the money I can get.”
“Aw,
you sourpuss. That’ll change when Mr. Right comes knocking at your door, just
you wait.”
“No
way. I’m a realist and you should be too, in your position. Do you realize I’ve
fallen a little behind on the mortgage? This is getting serious.”
Sophie
looked genuinely uncomfortable, enough to make Piper qualify her harsh
statement. “Where’s all the love after the heart-shaped gold sequins are swept
away, tell me that? Divorce stats are ridiculous, sweetheart. They come here to
Passion Creek, marry, leave, fight, and then split up. It’s a joke.”
“Not
all of them. I’m sure some couples make it.”
“I
guess you’re right, but even so, the only way I’ll marry is if I love someone
so much I’d die without him. And he’d have to ask me
obviously, not the other way around.”
“I
guess.”
Piper
tore off a garbage bag and frowned. “Sorry, I forgot. About you, him, the baby,
and everything.”
“Yeah,
it’s a freaking mess.”
“And
you can’t even drink to forget.”
“I
can eat.”
Piper
winced as she slid empty cans into the bag. “Good idea, what should I get?
Unless, of course, the fridge is stocked?”
“There’s
milk and cookies.”
Piper
grinned. “I’ll dump the cat poop and
then we’ll order in. Tacos? Pizza?”
“Fish
and chips.” Sophie tossed over a takeout flyer. “There’s a brewhouse that
delivers. Never heard of them—think they’re new—but it sounds good and they’re
way cheap.”
Piper
looked at the menu and laughed. “Well, what do you know? The Railway Tavern,
right next door to where I’m working tomorrow, the Passion Creek Brewery
accounts payable department. Okay, let’s go for it, and if it’s foul, I’ll take
it back there in the morning.”
Forty
minutes later, Sophie tore a piece of crispy batter off her fish and closed her
eyes as she crunched down on it. “This is good.”
Piper
grinned at the dribble of malt vinegar that trickled onto her sister’s sweater
and offered a piece of fish to the cat that had snuggled up against her thigh.
“Yep, sure is.”
Sophie
picked up a french fry. “Oh, I forgot to say. There’s been a whole load of
calls on the landline today, so I guess the shell trade must be picking up.
Hopefully you won’t have to be a wage-slave temp for too much longer if Silver
Bells starts raking in the dollars.”
Piper’s
hands stilled over her plate. “Take any names or details?”
Sophie
shook her head as if her big sister was crazy. “No way, I have no idea what to
say to people about your business, so I didn’t pick up.” She took a big swallow
of soda and smiled. “Which reminds me, I did some internet shopping for baby stuff
today, and it looks like your business email inbox is crammed too.”
“Must
be the people who didn’t get through on the phone.” Piper quashed a sudden
sense of foreboding and put it down to irrational paranoia and hangover. “Any
clues as to what’s been coming in?”
“I’d
never read another person’s emails!” Sophie wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“Honestly, what do you think I’m like?”
“Holy crap.” Piper
stared with horror at the computer printout her supervisor had slapped onto her
desk, and then flinched as she accidentally knocked a stack of Passion Creek
Brewery beer coasters onto the floor. “Please tell me this is a
first-day-in-the-office joke. You do this to all the new temps, right? It’s not
for real?”
“Sorry,
kiddo, this is all too real. You’ve been here three hours and have somehow
managed to pay every supplier we owe in Japanese yen instead of dollars.” The
older woman adjusted the box of reindeer-shaped bottle openers she was
carrying. “And our biggest hops supplier has been yelling down the phone at the
boss already.”
“No…”
Piper had been preoccupied by all the phone messages and emails she’d
discovered from Matt DeLeo the night before, and it was seriously looking like
she’d had a one-night stand with a stalker. He hadn’t been threatening, but
he’d said he needed to speak with her about something important, something that
had to be done face-to-face. He said the same thing over and over again via
every method of communication. It was a matter of urgency, apparently.
“Yup.
And it gets worse. The boss is here. Just got back from a research trip and
he’s furious. The big guy wants you in his office now.”
“Perhaps
it would be better if I just got my coat and left?”
The
supervisor, known affectionately in the office as Super, shook her head. “Try
that and he’ll set the security dogs on you. He can’t stand cowards.”
“I’m
no coward!”
“Great.
Then get up to the boardroom PDQ and take what’s coming.”
“PDQ?”
“Pretty
darned quick.”
“We meet again. Piper
Reilly. Hard to believe we’ve been living in the same city for the last few
years.” His eyes were penetrating, his smile deadly, and her blood ran cold.
“Welcome to my team.”
Matt
DeLeo.
“For
fuck’s sake.” Her immediate instinct was to walk straight out, but she still
needed this job and, like it or not, he was now her employer. Piper held her
breath. This couldn’t be happening, it was too bizarre. Matt DeLeo was an
itinerant barman in Florida with tycoon fantasies, not the boss of a Colorado
brewery in a designer suit. She must be hallucinating. He looked seriously
angry, and those brown eyes were darker than she remembered. He also looked
seriously sexy, all shaven and smart.
“That
should be my line,” he said, and ran a hand through the black silk of his hair.
“Do you know how much your currency screw-up is going to cost me?”
She
fisted her hands behind her back and did her best to control the confusion and
anger welling up inside her. “If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with some lunatic
stalker leaving messages s for me all over the place, I might not have been so
distracted!”
“I
only wanted to talk to you.”
There
were so many questions buzzing around her mind that she didn’t know where to
start. “Well, guess what? I didn’t want to speak to you, but now you have me
cornered, and I’d love to know how you managed that. Perhaps you can tell me
what’s so damn important. It was one night, Matt, not the beginning of
anything, and I want it to stop right now.”
“Please,
sit down.”
She
felt sick to her stomach. The currency error, the fact that she needed this job
to pay the mortgage, and Matt DeLeo looming large before her were all enough to
make anyone’s knees wobble. She’d get through this latest pile of crap. “I’ll
stand.”
He
raised a dark eyebrow. “Fine.”
The
dark way he was looking at her made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.
“Is there any reason why you can’t ask the bank to reverse the incorrect
transactions?”
Her
voice sounded brittle and she wanted to shiver at the way he was staring at
her. Matt DeLeo. In Passion Creek, lording it behind a great big boss man desk.
Sheesh.
“No,
no, no. It doesn’t work like that, Red.”
She didn’t remember him being this
exasperating, but then she hadn’t been exactly sober the last time they’d
spoken. “My name’s not Red. Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like being walked out on before I’ve
made breakfast.”
He wasn’t going to mince his words, that much
was obvious. She softened her tone in the hope he might be placated. “That was
very thoughtful, but I didn’t want breakfast.”
“I don’t like being walked out on, period.
Leaving like you did was damn rude.”
He looked so hot in that suit…
She gave herself a mental shake. “I had a
plane to catch.”
“Ignoring my emails and phone calls was rude,
too.”
He was right, she had been rude, but no way
was she going to admit it. “Look, I’m here in a professional capacity. What
happened between us in Florida was a mistake, fun as it was, and me ending up
in your finance department is the most cataclysmic coincidence.”
“I see what you mean.” He stroked his chin. “Very awkward.”
“I want to put things right if I can, and
obviously I’ll leave immediately if that’s what you want. Just tell me what I
can do. I am sorry.”
“There may be something you can do to fix
this.”
“It would be really great if I could.” Piper
felt sweat prickle on her top lip as he shot her a cold look.
“I have a solution,” he said.
“You do?”
“I’m going to hire a new accounts payable
clerk immediately.” His dark eyes glowed. “You get a shiny new
job.”
She willed herself not to feel any kind of
relief or hope, because she could sense she was on a hopeless losing streak.
“Doing what?”
“Being my official companion for the next few
weeks.” His teeth bit down on his broad bottom lip for a second. “And the
promotional face of my new product. I want you to be Passion Creek Brewery’s
poster girl for my latest launch.”
Piper let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re
crazy.”
“No,
I’m not.”
“Oh
yes, you are.”
“You
get to keep your clothes on, if that’s what you’re worried about. No topless shots,
just your lovely face smiling over a big glass of my best foaming beer.” He
grinned, but the expression was forced and cold like a predator about to take a
great big bite out of its prey. “It doesn’t look like you have much choice
unless you want me tell the agency how badly you screwed up that payment run
this morning. It costs me. I should invoice them for that. I have salaries to
pay.”
“The
agency will have insurance to cover this, right?”
“Maybe
they do, but what are the chances of them placing you in a position of
responsibility again? They have a reputation to consider, and I do believe they
have a review section on their website.”
“You
wouldn’t!”
He
shrugged. “Think what you like, but they’ll be pissed when the woman I asked
for by name, because she’d been personally recommended to me, is fired on her
first morning. Can you risk it?”
“You
asked for me by name? How did you know which agency to call? I never told you
my last name.”
“In
Sanibel, you mentioned you did occasional temp work to make ends meet.” He
flicked her business card across the desk. “And that fell out of your purse.
You have an unusual name, and there aren’t that many temp agencies in Passion
Creek.”
She
stared down at the silver scrap of a card and cursed herself for being so careless.
“I can live without work from that damn agency, DeLeo. Do what the hell you
like because I’m not going to be your poster girl.”
“Pretty
name you have for your business. I like it. It must be doing well if you’re
willing to flush your temping career down the toilet.” He fixed her with a hard
stare. “Not sure it would survive if word got out about some of the things you
told me in Sanibel. Passion Creek is a small town when it comes to scandal.”
“Scandal?”
Piper’s mind raced as she tried to remember what she’d told him, but almost
everything beyond seven that evening in Sanibel was a sparkly blur. “What
things?”
Matt
laughed. “Seriously? You can’t remember? Piper, all those cocktails made you
tell me everything.”
Hell,
what had she said? There were so many things lurking in her past that she
considered hidden forever. Surely she hadn’t been drunk enough to mention any
of them? “Nobody will believe you,” she said in a strained voice. “And nobody
in Passion Creek will be interested in what I may or may not have done.”
“Not
even the unsolved mystery of who sprayed a big dick symbol on Pastor
Zimmerman’s front door?” He grinned wickedly. “Won’t do a lot for your wedding
favor sales.”
“I’m
beginning to hate you.”
“And
I still have a pair of your black lacy underpants. Think I might frame them and
put them up behind the bar with your business card.”
Damn,
she’d forgotten about those. “You’re insane if you think you can get away with
this.” She snatched up the business card and thrust it into her jacket pocket.
“You’re seriously threatening to blackmail me if I refuse to be your smiley
beer girl?”
Matt
DeLeo tipped his head to one side and smiled. “Blackmail?” Then a nonchalant
shrug. “I want you as my poster girl, and I want to see you again. So if that’s
what it takes to get me what I want, then I guess so. Blackmail. Technically.”
Buy Links
Rachel lives, and writes, surrounded by
laundry and old newspapers most of the time with her daughter, son and The Exec
in Fareham, on the south coast of England. Sometimes she can smell the sea from
her back garden and she has grand designs on a luxurious garden office one day.
When not working, she enjoys a good rummage
through a decent antique shop. Oh, and wine and expensive lipstick are
non-negotiable.
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