T is for Temptation (8 page)

“Jake took Tee to Eight Bells to get your hibiscus holders, darling.”

Henry’s mild reproach soothed Jake’s bruised ego a tad.

“Thank you.” She twined her fingers together at her waist and met his gaze. “I understand you met three members of my crochet club.”

Blast, his face warmed, and he had to staunch the inclination to squirm under her glowering stare. The three old biddies, Jake shuttered his eyes and clenched a fist. A wave of sympathy wracked through him as he contemplated Tricia confronting Tee about their passionate, public embrace.

He lurched to his feet, eager to escape from the room.

“Thanks for the drink, Henry. Tricia, if you’ll point me in the right direction, I’m positive I can locate the cottage on my own.”

Her lips flattened, and she gave him terse instructions. Resisting the impulse to race out of the study, Jake mumbled a polite thank you and strolled away.

Greenbriar proved to be a miniature of the Main House, a quaint replica of plantation splendor. A high king-sized mahogany bed dominated the master bedroom, and lascivious fantasies of Tee nude and glorious, lying on her back in the middle of it, got him to orgasmic spilling point in seconds.

With only ten minutes to shower and change, the fantasies proved so erotic he almost jacked off in the shower. He resisted the temptation only by anticipating luring Tee back to the cottage after the blasted dinner.

Shrugging on his jacket, Jake caught sight of handmade cards of all shapes and sizes crowded onto the bedside table. He picked one up and studied the wobbly crayon script.

Cherry is the best horse ever
, read the outside. Lopsided hearts decorated the inside, along with a grubby handprint and a glued-on photo of a young boy with dark eyes too big for his thin face.
And you’re the best
teacher ever, love me
, read the inside. He sat on the bed and read a sample of the dozen cards, all in a similar vein.

The photographs showed children with the stamp of physical fragility, one with braces on his feet, another devoid of hair, this one in a wheelchair. The last card he picked up broke his heart.

Heaven
, read the outside above a colorful rainbow. On the inside, Jake scrutinized the drawings of three stick people and a bulb-like creature. Arrows labeled each image. The word
me
next to the smallest figure;
Mama
, next to a female with a red heart at its center;
Tee
, next to a female with a solid mass of hair; and
Cherry
, next to the animal.

He set the card back into place and stared at the array for long seconds. Somewhere a bell rang, and the sound jolted him back to reality. Unbidden, his gaze swept to the other table, no cards, a digital alarm clock instead.

But, as he neared the doorway, an 8x11 metal-framed shot of Tony and Tee smiling in their wedding finery on the mantel drew his attention. Jake cursed, strode over to the blasted photograph, and clenched his fists, resisting the urge to send it flying into the fireplace below. Soured, he settled for tucking it into a dresser drawer.

Four hours later, having sat through a tedious, taxing seven-course meal which Tee failed to attend, he swore like a marine on the return to the guest abode. He couldn’t recall a more tortuous evening. Tricia sat two proper matrons on either side of him, and they conducted a Spanish inquisition dissecting his background with centuries of aristocratic disdain. Drained, defensive, and angry, sleep proved elusive.

Daybreak came early in the
Caribbean
, especially on an island near the equator, Jake mused as he dressed. The painful hammering in his head slowed every movement, and he regretted downing so much wine the night before.

It was a full thirty minutes later before he sat down to breakfast on the porch off the Main House. A dwarf lime plant decorated the center of a circular wrought iron table; its petite, porcelain-like white flowers perfumed the air with a sweet, pungent aroma.

“Jake.”

Tricia Inglefield didn’t meet his gaze.

A humming bird whirred around a potted plant behind her. The tiny creature hovered over a salmon hibiscus flower at the top of a branch, its wings a blur of motion.

“Tricia.”

In no mood to exchange barbed banter, Jake pulled his napkin out of an ornate pewter ring.

“Will Henry be joining us?”

“Yes. He should be here at any moment. Orange juice?”

“Thanks.” Jake held out his glass.

Green, yellow-chested parrots darted about the trees lining the porch, arguing loudly. Tricia poured pulp-thick liquid from a pink crystal jug into his glass.

“Where is Tee?”

The royal glower she shot him could’ve shattered granite.

“Not that it’s any of your concern, my daughter decided to visit a friend in
Barbados
.”

She dabbed a pink napkin at the left corner of her mouth.

Metal groaned as one side of a double door opened and Henry strode onto the patio.

“Morning, m’boy,” he said. “Just ended a call from the police inspector. The chauffeur-cum-messenger Tony employed confessed that the cocaine was his. The office is no longer off-limits.”

“Good news,” Jake replied, his mind centered on locating Tee. He remembered her best friend from the wedding, a cynical,
Playboy
-boobed blonde bombshell, Desdemona Bloom, who lived in
Barbados
. “I understand Tee flew to
Barbados
?”

Henry grimaced. “She’s visiting
Dee
. Got a call from her while we were in the study yesterday, the attorney general’s fallen ill, and
Dee
’s filling in for him.”

And what the blasted hell that had to do with Tee’s abrupt disappearance, Jake couldn’t decipher. He tugged his earlobe and strung the moment out, hoping for inspiration.

“I didn’t realize there was an evening flight to
Barbados
.”

Morning sunlight streamed through the tree leaves, weaving a dancing, shadowed pattern on the pale tablecloth. Husband and wife exchanged filtered, anxious looks. Jake considered their carefully stoic expressions.

Tricia held out an oval wicker basket. “Toast?”

Her pleasant tone and their secretive glance set every alarm bell jangling.

“Thanks. Tricia, you know
Tobago
inside out. Are you familiar with Callum Ferguson’s land?”

Jake took a slice of whole-wheat bread. He stretched his legs under the table, determined to wring every moment of enjoyment out of his recent discovery and the coming declaration designed to both shock and torment Tee’s mother.

“Why, yes, I am. It’s on the north-east side. More
Atlantic
than
Caribbean
. Are you interested in it?” Three tiny lines etched the space between perfect golden brows.

“A month ago, I discovered I’m a
Ferguson
. Callum was my great-uncle. His lawyer tracked me down and informed me I’ve inherited the land and the title.”

“You? A
Ferguson
? Impossible.” A sneer curved her tight mouth. “That title dates back to the early sixteenth century.”

The horror claiming her features made his lips twitch, and he battled the urge to crow with arrogance and laugh in her face.

“So I learned.”

“Another one?”

Dee
jiggled her empty wine glass. She sat on an overstuffed lawn chair, one bare leg hanging over the side, the other plopped upon a matching ottoman.

A peach-fringed standing lamp clicked on, and a soft halo of light lifted the shadows, illuminating the book-lined library walls. Arms raised above her head,
Dee
’s back arched in a cat’s boneless stretch. Tousled, platinum, chin-length curls framed a heart-shaped face, a pert upturned nose, and wide gray eyes.

“No thanks.”

Wisps of unruly honey hair escaped the loose topknot piled on Tee’s head, and she tucked them behind her ears. “I need a clear mind before I face Jake again.”

“Not ready to dish out the gory details yet?” An elfin smile bared
Dee
’s pearl-white teeth. “Since you’re not dreamy-eyed or glowing, I’d say sex didn’t meet your expectations.”

“Really, Desdemona Bloom, you can be so blunt, and you’re dead wrong. It was wonderful.” She drew a deep breath, and even though daylight faded, the room still smelled of sunshine and lemons, the combination a soothing cocoon. Tee studied the floor as the magical moments replayed in her brain, the delicious friction of Jake’s fierce thrusts, his mouth closing over her nipple. She sighed.

“So, what’s the problem, cupcake?”

“Precisely that. I filled Eight Bells with cupcakes, and Jake started asking tricky questions. He knows I’m hiding something, and after Tony’s reaction to my conjuring . . .”

“Maybe our warlock mentor’s right, and you should embrace your witchy talent.”

“I haven’t used my powers since boarding school. I haven’t slipped up once. The damn man kisses me, and it starts raining rose petals.”

“Be honest with him,”
Dee
suggested. “What’s the worst that could happen? Don’t give me that look. I know rejection hurts. But, isn’t it better to get it over and done with rather than leave things hanging?”

“He said he wanted to talk.” Her cheeks warmed. “He didn’t use a condom, and he seems concerned about that.”

“It only takes one determined sperm.”
Dee
shook her head and waggled a finger at her. “Frigging hell, Tee. You should’ve asked about his sexual history. For all you know, the man could have AIDS.”

“Get real. A man like Jake? Self-made millionaire? Sexier than Satan? Cool and logical? Hah, he doesn’t make an unplanned move.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Fine, he didn’t use a condom, but that’s probably because I shocked the daylights out of him.”

“Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. What did you do? Sure you won’t share the scrumptious details?”

Tee shook her head. “No, and I’m leaving before you try to worm anything out of me.”

“I arranged for the chauffeur to take you to the Harbor Lodge. I’ll ring for him.”

“You know you don’t have to. I can manage.”

“No way, you know when you travel with magic things go awry.”

“I made it here, didn’t I?”

“You lost an entire day. This is one argument you won’t win, Tallulah Inglefield. Surrender gracefully.”

“Fine, you’re right. I’m so upside down right now. I’d probably end up in the Stone Age if I used my powers. Did I mention Tony’s office was broken into? That the police found cocaine on the premises?”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? Your husband was a complete bastard. Frigging hell, your mother’s going to hit the roof.”

“She already has. I hate the way she does that cold, silent reprimand thing. She’s perfected it.”

“You don’t have to tell me. Tricia is one scary woman. Sure you won’t join me?”

Dee
rose, a graceful feline unfolding, and sauntered to the sideboard, lifting her glass in emphasis.

“No. I’m going to have a hot bath and crawl into bed as soon as I get to Harbor Lodge.”