Led into Temptation Page 12

  The waves lapping the shore were closer, and the shadow of the boulder stretched farther across the sand.

  There was a part of her that didn’t want to move. She liked the feel of his arm around her. Another part of her knew that their time together was slipping away, and she didn’t want to waste a second.

  Raising her head, she looked into his eyes. What she saw there had her blood heating and her body pulsing all over again. The hardness of his erection pressed against her leg.

  “You weren’t always a priest.”

  “No. I wasn’t even a good candidate.”

  She recalled her initial surprise when he’d agreed so easily to her proposition—and her suspicion from the first that she was dealing with two men. “Why weren’t you a good candidate?”

  “I ran away from the first few foster homes I was placed in and I spent some time on the streets. I might have ended up in jail if a cop and his wife hadn’t taken me in.”

  “You were raised by a cop?”

  “An Irish Catholic one. After he’d arrested me twice, he took the time to find out about my family. Then he made me a proposition. If I followed the rules, I could live with him and his wife, and he’d help me find my brothers and sister.”

  “You accepted.”

  “I wasn’t getting anywhere on my own. As it turned out, he was never able to locate them. But he never gave up.”

  “And you eventually became a priest and not a cop.”

  “His wife, Nell, encouraged me. She thought having one cop in the family was enough.”

  Lowering her head, she began to nibble along his neck where the collar had been and felt a quiver of response move through him.

  “Naomi…”

  “I haven’t had enough of you yet.” She framed his face with her hands. “We’ve both lived out our fantasies, right?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Mine was better than yours.”

  He brushed her lips with his. “Not possible.”

  She smiled slowly. “My proposition was for one time, but I haven’t made you come yet.”

  His erection pulsed against her.

  “I think we ought to take a little break from the fantasies and improvise,” she suggested. “And I want you to be inside of me when you come. I don’t want to imagine it first. I just want to do it.”

  “Deal.”

  “Get out of your briefs.” She scrambled off him to grab her shorts and fish out a condom. After tearing it open with her teeth, she glanced back at him.

  And stopped breathing.

  He was naked and the size of his erection had her throat going dry as dust. “Much better than in my fantasy.”

  “I could return the compliment.”

  “Later,” she murmured as, condom in hand, she crawled back to straddle him again. But instead of sheathing him, she clasped her fingers around his penis and then lowered her mouth to run her tongue along the length of it.

  On a low moan, he thrust up hard into her hand. Then he reached for her head and threaded his fingers into her hair.

  “I never imagined doing this.” Starting at the base, she licked her way slowly up the length of him. “I like it.”

  When she closed her mouth over him and sucked, he jerked up and hissed. Encouraged, she took in more of him and sucked harder.

  “Stop.” The word came out on a thread of sound.

  Reluctantly, she released him and met his eyes. “You don’t like it.”

  “I love it.” But when she tried to lower her head, his fingers tightened in her hair.

  “Why should I stop?”

  “You wanted me inside of you this time.”

  She smiled. “And if I want to continue improvising?”

  “Two can play that game.” Lifting her hips, he brought her close enough to his mouth to trace the triangle of lace covering her with his tongue. As he licked his way down one side and then the other, fire, hotter than anything she’d ever experienced before, arrowed through her. Grabbing his shoulders for support, she got her feet under her and, still squatting, arched backward to give him more access.

  “Hold on. We need to get rid of these.” His teeth scraped her skin as he used them to free her from the thong. “Much better.”

  She was vaguely aware that he twitched the condom out of her fingers and sheathed himself, but her focus was centered on the heat of his breath feathering over her clitoris.

  She cried out when he tasted her with two quick flicks of his tongue. Screamed when his tongue pierced her.

  She was already hovering on the brink of that final eruption of pleasure when he guided her down so that she could take him in. He controlled the entry, lowering her slowly and drawing out the pleasure for both of them. Then suddenly, as if he’d reached his breaking point, he gripped her hips and thrust into her all the way.

  “Make me come, Naomi.”

  Once again she had no choice. She had to move, sliding up and then down. Up and then down. Cupping the nape of her neck, he drew her mouth to his, whispered, “Make me come now.”

  Then he kissed her, using the same slow strokes with his tongue that she was using on him. Naomi felt as if she were drowning in him—his taste, his scent, the exquisite pressure in the way he filled her. She didn’t want this to end. But gradually, she couldn’t help herself. The pleasure was so intense, so consuming, that she had to pick up the pace.

  His tongue matched her rhythm, urging her on until her release was just there, beckoning her. Unable to help herself, she moved faster and faster until her orgasm began. Then she rode it out, rode him until she finally pulled him with her over that same peak he’d taken her to before.

  IT WAS NEARLY SIX WHEN DANE let himself into his room at Haworth House. His mind was still full of Naomi and the time they’d spent together. They’d made love two more times before they’d left the secluded beach. And each time she’d taken him further than any woman had before.

  Now he had to think—to get back his perspective. During those three hours on the beach he’d totally lost it. Hell, he’d lost parts of himself. He’d joined her in her fantasy and allowed himself to be Father Dane MacFarland.

  He would have kept her on the beach longer—he’d have her there right now—if the tide hadn’t come in. They’d had to walk through ankle-deep water to get to the path they’d followed on their climb down.

  She hadn’t spoken on the drive back. He hadn’t, either. Because he still hadn’t decided what his next move would be. And he desperately needed to figure that out.

  Any idea he’d had that making love to her once or twice or even four times was going to get her out of his system was right up there with pigs flying.

  Pacing across the room, he ran a hand through his hair. He’d never been that intimate with a woman. On both physical and emotional levels, she pushed buttons that no one else ever had. Aside from the pretense that he was a priest, everything he’d told her about his life was the truth. He hadn’t thought of some of it in years.

  The Irish cop he’d told her about—Patrick McNally—had literally taken him off the streets. Patrick and his wife, Nell, had been older and childless. Although Nell had entertained dreams of him entering the seminary, they hadn’t turned him into a priest or a cop. But Dane wondered if he’d be as good as he was at his job if it hadn’t been for Patrick’s training. The couple had died when he was eighteen, and the money they’d left him had paid for college and helped a great deal when he’d opened his business.

  He’d told Ian about Patrick and Nell, of course, but no one else. Ever.

  But he hadn’t been able to prevent himself from telling Naomi. He stopped in front of the balcony doors and slid them open. He spotted her immediately, sitting at a table in the courtyard talking with Leo King and another man he recognized as Thomas Fairchild, a younger partner at Naomi’s old firm. The two men had been waiting in the lobby with Avery when they’d returned.

  The vultures who wanted the money Michael Davenport ha
d taken from them were circling. And he wasn’t the only one who suspected that Naomi held the key to that money. While they’d been having their forbidden tryst on the beach, the FBI had probably checked in to the hotel also.

  For a moment, he let his mind drift back to their arrival at Haworth House. After handing over the Corvette’s keys to the young man in front of the hotel, she’d turned to him and offered him her hand.

  The formal gesture and the speech she delivered weren’t merely a show for the hotel staff. It was a message to him that she intended to keep her part of the little bargain they’d made. What had happened between them on the beach was a one-time thing just as she’d promised. She would be discreet, and he wouldn’t have to worry about her making any demands on him.

  But he was going to have to worry about it. They both were. Any idea to the contrary had been banished into oblivion by the simple press of her palm against his. For one instant as desire exploded inside of him, he’d come close to tossing her into the car and just driving off with her. Consequences be damned.

  But the consequences had to be faced. So did the facts. The danger he was sure she was in hadn’t vanished during their little hiatus on the beach. He might have put it out of his mind for a few hours, but Davenport was somewhere on the island. And he wasn’t stupid. He’d make a move very soon to take back what he’d given her, and once he had it, Naomi was disposable.

  After her dismissive handshake in front of the hotel, Dane had kept his distance in the lobby, but he’d lingered long enough to hear Leo King invite her for a drink in the courtyard.

  She hadn’t liked the fact that King was there. He’d seen the tension return to her body, and he’d had to clamp down hard on the urge to go to her. Because he knew some of what she was feeling. Reality had just descended with a vengeance. And it was high time he focused on it.

  Two days ago, Leo King had fired Naomi because of her association with Michael Davenport. So she had to be wondering what were he and his partner doing here on the Island.

  And then there were the mementos that Davenport had given her. Dane had to find out more about them. Naomi didn’t need a lover right now. She needed a bodyguard with a clear head and a good eye.

  Swinging away from the balcony, he was halfway to the nightstand near his bed when he realized he still had the latter—a good eye—if not the former. The painting over his bed of the Belle Island lighthouse was slightly ajar. He stopped short and scanned the room. If she hadn’t been filling his mind, he would have seen it sooner.

  Since he’d left, someone had been in his room, and they’d searched it. Definitely not the maid. She’d been in and out, replacing towels and changing the linens, while he’d been in town.

  No, someone had come into this room while he was on that beach with Naomi. He meticulously swept his gaze around the room again. The signs were subtle, but he had a trained eye. The zipper on his suitcase was fully closed. He’d left it partially open. The duffel he’d taken into town was closer to the center of his bed than the edge. Striding to his closet, he saw that the door was closed tightly. He’d left it ajar. Inside, he saw that the hangers had been shifted.

  He’d definitely become a person of interest to someone. Moving back to the bed, he ran his hand along the edges of the lighthouse painting and located the bug on the side closest to the phone. Leaving it there, Dane decided to postpone his phone call to Ian until he could find a more private venue.

  By the time he stepped out onto his balcony, his mind was clearer than it had been all day. And he wasn’t thinking of fantasies. He was planning how he was going to get into Naomi’s room and find out if it had been bugged, too.

  She was still sitting at table talking to her former bosses. He glanced over at her room. This was as good a time as any to pay a quick visit. Then he caught the flicker of movement in the tower windows above her balcony. Whirling, he strode to his duffel and grabbed the tools he would need.

  Someone was in that tower room right now.

  NAOMI HAD JUST TAKEN HER SEAT and was still trying to gather her thoughts when Tess set a glass of white wine down in front of her. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

  Naomi smiled at Tess. “No, this is fine.”

  “I asked her to open a bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé and to bring you a glass the moment you arrived,” Leo said.

  “Thank you.” It was Leo who had introduced her to the French burgundy, but as Naomi lifted the glass to take a polite sip, she thought she would have preferred a brandy. Her mind was still so full of Dane, and she really had to shift her focus.

  Back to reality. Finding Leo King and Thomas Fairchild in the lobby waiting for her had helped a great deal. Not even a new wardrobe and mind-blowing sex on the beach were going to free her from the old Naomi’s past.

  “Aren’t you going to ask us why we’re here?” Thomas asked.

  Naomi looked at him. Leo may have been a father figure to her, but she’d never thought of Thomas as a brother. Though he’d been practicing law for several years when she’d joined the firm, she’d always sensed that he’d felt threatened by her. And she recalled the smug and satisfied look on his face the morning that Leo told her the firm could no longer afford to have her associated with them. “Why are you here?”

  “Thomas and I think we may have been hasty in letting you go,” Leo explained. “Thomas, why don’t you tell her the good news.”

  Thomas cleared his throat. “Leo and I would like you to come back to your job.”

  Surprised, she looked from one man to the other. “Why?”

  Thomas glanced at Leo.

  “Go ahead, Thomas,” Leo said. “Tell her.”

  “We don’t think we gave you the support and loyalty you deserve.”

  Naomi directed her words to Leo. “Nothing has changed. I was engaged to Michael Davenport. Through me he gained access to the two of you and many of our top clients. If I come back to the firm, I’ll be a constant reminder of that.”

  “Be that as it may,” Leo said, “we think we may have damaged the reputation of the firm even more by letting you go. Dismissing you makes it look as though we believe you were involved in some way in the swindle. And that fuels the rumors that perhaps we were involved also.”

  Naomi’s brows shot up. “Clients believe that you were involved?”

  “There have been some grumblings to that effect,” Thomas said, the anger clear in his voice. “Ridiculous. We were taken in by that charlatan, too.”

  Leo laid a hand on hers. “Just as you were, my dear. Thomas and I have discussed the matter. By letting you go we fed into those suspicions. Taking you back will strengthen our position that we were all victims—just as they were.”

  Naomi considered the argument he was making. In an odd way, it did make sense, she supposed.

  Leo released her hand. “If you could pack your things, we’d like to take the early ferry back to the mainland tomorrow. The Middleton case goes to trial day after tomorrow, and I’d like you to take second chair. I know how hard you worked on the research. Winning it should be a slam dunk.”

  Naomi studied the two men for a moment. Thomas’s smile might not have reached his eyes, but it was there. Leo was literally beaming. She could have her job back.

  And they had no doubt at all that she would accept their offer. Evidently, they considered her a slam dunk also. Anger flickered to life inside of her. The Naomi who’d ridden over to the island on the ferry yesterday wouldn’t have had to think twice. But…

  She knew the moment that Dane stepped out on his balcony. Every nerve in her body snapped to attention. Her blood quickened and she could feel the heat of his gaze on her back. Very deliberately she reached for her wineglass, hoping the coolness of the liquid would quench the fire that had flared to life inside of her again.

  For a moment, she felt trapped between the man behind her and the two men in front of her. Then suddenly, she knew that Dane was gone.

  Leo touched his glass to the one she�
��d raised. “A toast. To the future of King and Fairchild. May it one day be King, Fairchild and Brightman.”

  “No.” Naomi set her glass down on the table without sipping any of the wine.

  “No?” Leo asked. “What are you saying?”

  “I’ll have to think about your offer, Leo. But I certainly won’t be leaving on the ferry tomorrow morning. I still have a few loose ends to tie up here. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy your stay at Haworth House.”

  Rising, she walked back into the lobby and very nearly plowed into Sheriff Nate Kirby. He grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her.

  “Naomi, wait.”

  She turned to see that Leo and Thomas had followed her, but they stopped when they saw the sheriff.

  “Is there a problem, Officer?” Leo asked.

  “I just have a few questions for Ms. Brightman.”

  “She’ll need an attorney present,” Leo said.

  “Leo, if I need an attorney, I’ll represent myself. And you have the only answer you’re going to get for now.” She summoned up a smile. “But I do want you to enjoy your stay. Dinner’s on the house.”

  Leo King didn’t like it, but he turned and let Thomas follow him back into the courtyard.

  “Who is that?” Nate asked as he led the way to a cluster of chairs that weren’t occupied.

  “My former boss. He came all the way out here to offer me my job back.”

  Nate gestured her into a chair and then sat across from her. “He must really want you.”

  She frowned. “Yes.” Then she met his eyes. “Do you have news about that license plate?”

  “Not yet. I received a call from the FBI Boston bureau. They were checking to see if you were by any chance here on Belle Island. Until the local police called the bureau, the men they had watching you were still under the impression that you were in your apartment.”

  She lifted her chin. “No one told me I had to stay in Boston.”

  Nate’s lips curved. “Did you tell your ex-boss where you were going?”