Dangerous Temptation (23 page)

"No." At last, Jacob seemed to agree with him. "Okay. I'll accept that your faults are partly mine. But I want to know what's going on. Why was Jake on that plane pretending to be you? It wasn't his idea. I'm sure of that."

His son's lips twisted. "Why not? I'm not pretending to be him."

His father merely looked at him, and aware that he was in danger of losing all sympathy, he bent his head. Until he knew what was going on, he was stuck with the old man. It wouldn't do to antagonise him, not when he needed his help.

"Okay," he said in a low voice, wondering if he could repeat the story he had given Jake. He hunched his shoulders. "Jake was helping me, as you suspect. I'd asked him to go to London in my place."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"I think so." Jacob's mouth compressed in distaste. "I want to know what dirty business you've got him mixed up in. I assume it involves money. That is your god."

Nathan ground his teeth together. Whatever he said, the old man could always make him feel small.

"That is why you married that sweet, innocent girl, isn't it?" his father appended. "You should have invited me to the wedding. I'd have warned her what to expect."

"Which is exactly why you weren't invited!" exclaimed his son angrily. "And Caitlin's no innocent. Don't be fooled by those doe-eyed looks."

"Not now, perhaps." His father shook his head. "She's lived with you for three years, hasn't she? Oh, go on, boy. You're beginning to irritate me."

His son looked as if he would have liked to respond in kind, but instead, he hauled open a drawer in his father's desk and pulled out a bottle of whisky. "You don't mind, do you, Pa?" he asked carelessly, unscrewing the cap. "It's not as if you ever touch the stuff yourself."

Jacob's expression grew daunting. Big as he was, his son could still be intimidated by his father's moods, and with an exclamation of disgust, he returned the whisky to the drawer. Then he got restlessly to his feet to pace about the room, trying to compose his words into a believable story.

"Jake—Jake offered to take something to England for me," he declared at last. "He knew I'd never get away with it myself."

Jacob's eyes never flickered. "What—something—are we talking about? Cash?" His gaze narrowed. "Drugs?"

"That's not your concern."

"It is my concern." Jacob swore. "Christ Almighty, Nathan, if it's what I think it is, I should kill you for involving Jake in your reckless schemes."

"What makes you think I had to twist his arm?" retorted his son resentfully. "Look—I may have mentioned the idea to Jake, but he didn't need much persuading to take part. God!" He almost began to believe his own reasoning. "He seems to like being me better than being himself."

"Get real, Nathan." His father regarded him contemptuously. "You're not only corrupt, you're stupid with it. Do I have to remind you, the plane crashed? Hasn't it occurred to you that Jake might be badly injured?"

His son grimaced. "He's not."

"How do you know?" Jacob's hands clenched. "Oh—I suppose you phoned the hospital to find out." He slammed his fist against the chair arm and his son jumped; he couldn't stop himself. It was obvious Jacob wished it was his head.

"Are you saying that's why he hasn't been in touch with me?" the younger man demanded. "Why he's letting my own wife believe he's me? You can't answer that one, can you? Admit it, he's just as corrupt as I am."

Jacob arched a scathing brow. "You wish."

"What do you mean?" His son stared at him. "What haven't you told me?"

Jacob shrugged. "The resemblance is uncanny," he remarked obliquely, and his son gave him a frustrated look. "He's not as—well-fed as you are, and his hair's a bit longer, but the features are identical. His accent's slightly different, but if you weren't looking for any differences, I doubt you'd notice it. It's no wonder Caitlin was deceived. I almost was myself."

"What are you saying?" For all it should be what he wanted to hear, the other man felt strangely bereft. "Do you accept the fact that Jake has stolen my identity? For God's sake, Pa, what are you trying to do?"

"Jake hasn't stolen anything," said Jacob flatly.

"Then he's a liar. You can't deny that."

"I can. I do." His father regarded him contemptuously. "Jake's not lying, boy. He really thinks he's you." He paused. "He's got amnesia. That's why he and Caitlin have gone back to England. For the present, he's incapable of deceit."

"Why don't you take Nathan for a walk this afternoon, darling?" Mrs Webster suggested pleasantly, apparently prepared to overlook the fact that her daughter was pacing rather restlessly about the room. "You never know, he may find something familiar to strike a chord in his memory." She poured herself another cup of coffee and pushed Caitlin's untouched cup and saucer to the edge of the table. "If this weather improves, of course," she added. Then, "Drink this up, dear. I'm sure it must be getting cold."

Caitlin turned, pushing her hands into the pockets of her baggy cardigan, causing it to dip to mid-thigh. Worn with black leggings, the amber-coloured jacket was supposed to disguise what shape she had, and she could tell from the wince her mother gave that she considered the outfit fatally flawed. Her own neatly pleated skirt and cream silk blouse were in the best of taste, impeccably tailored to match her svelte appearance.

Picking up the cup of coffee, Caitlin carried it back to the long windows. Beyond the wood-framed conservatory, the formal gardens that surrounded the house were draped with mist. Although the forecast had been good, the dampness was lingering, its vague oppressiveness reflecting Caitlin's mood.

"I hope your father and Nathan won't be much longer," her mother continued, determined to behave as if nothing untoward had happened. "And Marshall, too, of course," she appended, her lips tightening. "That young man is becoming quite a fixture."

Caitlin leant her shoulder against the window frame and looked back at Daisy Webster. It was easier to consider her mother's problems than to contemplate her own. After what had happened that morning, she'd just as soon not think about Nathan at all, and Marshall was the ideal target for her frustrations.

"So why did you invite him?" she asked, arching a brow interrogatively. "I'm sure if Daddy knew you didn't care for him, he'd confine their consultations to the office."

"I wouldn't bank on it." Her mother was uncharacteristically terse. And then, as if like Caitlin she'd rather not dwell on her own difficulties, she went on, "You didn't mind sharing a room with Nathan, did you? I'm afraid you caught us unprepared."

Caitlin looked down into her cup, where the cream her mother had added to the coffee was congealing round the rim. "I suppose not," she conceded, trying to sound indifferent. "Um—Daddy's invitation was unexpected for us, too."

Mrs Webster frowned. "Your father invited you?"

Caitlin nodded. "Yes. Didn't you know?"

"No." Her mother pulled a face, and then moved her shoulders impatiently. "He just said you and Nathan were coming down for the weekend, and I'm afraid I assumed it had been your idea."

Caitlin expelled her breath a little quickly. Her idea, she thought ironically. To invite herself and Nathan here, where it was obviously going to be harder to maintain the fiction of their relationship? Hardly. Though even she had had no idea how dangerous it might prove.

"I'm sorry," she said now. "I'm afraid I thought it had actually been your idea. In recent months—well, Nathan and Daddy haven't exactly been—close, have they? Since Marshall joined the company, the gulf between them seems to be getting wider by the day."

"I know." Her mother grimaced. "I knew it would happen as soon as Marshall became his second in command. But your father says he isn't ready yet to surrender the reins of the company, and I suppose he believes that Marshall doesn't have an axe to grind."

"But why not?" Caitlin stared at her mother curiously. "Why should he trust Marshall when he doesn't trust anyone else?" She paused, and then continued carefully, "You know, I've sometimes wondered, how did Daddy find Marshall in the first place? I mean, he hadn't worked for Webster's or anything. And it's such a confidential position."

She thought she saw a faint trace of colour enter her mother's cheeks at her words, but it disappeared again so rapidly that she decided she must have been mistaken. Nevertheless, when Mrs Webster spoke again, there was a thread of anxiety in her voice.

"I believe—I believe he knew the boy's mother many years ago," she declared, putting her cup back onto the tray. "Oh, look. The mist appears to be clearing. You'll be able to take Nathan out for some air."

"He's not a dog, Mummy," observed Caitlin drily, aware that she had been deliberately diverted from asking any more awkward questions. "Besides, he doesn't like walking. Surely you remember that?"

Daisy Webster shrugged. "At this moment, I doubt if he remembers what he likes or dislikes," she declared rather callously. "Oh, thank goodness, here they come. You'll be able to ask him yourself."

Caitlin turned back to the window as the three men came into the conservatory. She needed a moment to compose herself before she met her husband's knowing gaze again. Just because she had awakened in time to prevent him from taking any further liberties with her body, the memory of the incident still caused her pulse to race.

God, she thought incredulously, what would have happened if she hadn't opened her eyes at that moment? How much further would he have been prepared to go? What more could he have done, short of actually invading her body, for God's sake? He'd been suckling her breasts. They were still throbbing from the hungry tug of his teeth.

She shivered. She'd been vaguely aware of what was happening before she acknowledged it. But in that mindless state between sleeping and waking, she'd welcomed his touch. It had been like a dream; she hadn't been in control of her emotions. The sensual response her body had offered was an instinctive reaction to her psychological state.

It was disturbing all the same, because Nathan had never been so considerate of her before. When he'd bitten her breasts while they were on their honeymoon, he'd hurt her badly. But this time, she'd been totally relaxed, totally uninhibited. Her body had been pleasured, and she'd wanted the experience to go on…

"Missed me?"

Nathan's lips against the side of her neck were unbearably seductive. Lost in the blind world of introspection, she'd been totally unaware of his approach. But now, his mocking salutation brought her swiftly to her senses. She must not allow him to see how vulnerable she'd become.

All the same, her initial response had been to turn her head and let those knowing lips consume her. But the awareness of where she was—and who was watching—prevented her from making that mistake. Nevertheless, it took all her self-control to resist him, and the knowledge that he was aware of it, too, sent her backing out of his reach.

Straight into the coffee table.

"Careful, darling!"

Her mother's anxious cry saved the day, but not before Caitlin had been made to feel a fool for the second time that morning. Her reaction had been warranted, she defended herself, conscious of being the cynosure of all eyes. But she had drawn attention to herself—unwillingly—and even Marshall O'Brien was giving her a curious look.