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Led into Temptation Page 9
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The same thing was not going to happen to Naomi.
“Well, it’s good news that he’s there,” Ian said. “That means you were right. She must have something he wants. All you have to do is wait.”
“Yeah.” Trouble was, there were other things he wanted to do while he waited. Distracting things. Dane ran a hand through his hair as he strode to the window and drew the curtains tight. If he didn’t block out the view of Naomi’s balcony, chances were very good that like sixteen-year-old Romeo Montague, he’d be tempted to watch for her to appear.
And he needed to think. More and more he was finding that impossible to do when he was close to her. Talking to his brother was helping him refocus on the job. Turning away from temptation, he strode back to the foot of the bed and sat down.
“Davenport was probably behind the purse snatching,” Dane said. “He had a ringside seat.” Dane thought of what he’d seen—the way Davenport had shot up from the chair. In his opinion, the guy had been trying to get a closer look at the disturbance on the street like everyone else on the patio. “Not even the sheriff here thinks that the purse-snatching incident was a coincidence. The question is what does it mean?”
“Well, let’s see.”
In his mind, Dane pictured his younger brother leaning back in his chair, perching his feet carefully next to his computer screen, then crossing his legs.
“I’m not the trained field agent, but if we’re operating on the theory that Naomi has something he wants…”
“Go on,” Dane said. He’d given it some thought on the drive back to the hotel. Concentrating on the possible ramifications of the attempted purse snatching had helped him overcome the urge he’d had to just take Naomi away from Belle Island.
He didn’t understand it. And definitely didn’t like it. The woman had started pulling at him the first time he’d read her file. Now it was as if she had some kind of control over him—the kind a puppeteer might have over her marionette.
It went far beyond the physical attraction he felt for her, although that was strong enough. That moment in the parking lot when he’d pulled her against him, she’d dragged him in so deeply with that soft, pliant body, that fragrant scent. He’d begun to drown in her, eagerly, with no thought of swimming to the surface. And even when he’d summoned up the strength to release her, something inside of him had taken a little tumble.
Not good.
“I’d say whatever it is has to be small enough to fit in her purse,” Ian said. “Like a safe-deposit key or a locker key.”
Dane shifted to lie back on the bed. “Or something else that’s small but worth a lot of money. A rare jewel, coin, stamp—something that would fit with what he did three years ago. That time he converted his ill-gotten gains into a priceless bronze figurine.”
“Any chance the two thugs were after more than the purse?”
“Such as?”
“Her.”
“I didn’t see the whole thing, but Naomi claims the guy only started dragging her toward the car when she wouldn’t part with the purse. Plus, if Davenport or his buddies wanted to snatch her, there are more efficient ways to do it.”
“How?” Ian asked.
“I would have parked the getaway car at the side of the boutique and gone in through the delivery entrance. Then I would have taken care of the shop owner and escorted Naomi out into my car. Less than two minutes from start to finish. Out on the street, there’s always the risk of someone interfering. I think their goal was the purse.”
“And if Davenport was behind this, he thought he could get it without making actual contact with her. This failure may force him to change his plan.”
“And that could put Naomi Brightman in mortal danger.”
“You, too,” Ian pointed out. “Let’s not forget Kansas City. The man doesn’t like his plans messed with.”
Dane’s glance shifted back to the closed curtains. “On another topic—you dig up anything at Our Lady of Solace boarding school that might explain why Naomi thought she recognized me?”
“Still working on it. Want me to fly over there?”
Dane laughed. “You are desperate for a little field work. Give the license plate priority over the boarding school.”
As he ended the call, Dane stared at the ceiling. Davenport hadn’t made the move he’d expected, which would make it harder for Dane to predict the next one.
But he didn’t doubt for a minute that the man would go to great lengths to get the money he’d embezzled. He thought of the woman he’d tailed in Boston for the past two weeks, someone on the conservative side, someone predictable. The avenging angel who’d smacked that thug in the face was anything but predictable.
And if Michael Davenport couldn’t predict what she would do, Naomi was in even greater danger.
Dane needed more than ever to become her confidant and find out what she knew. And he had to protect her. He’d slipped up in Belle Bay. And in Kansas City three years ago, he hadn’t managed to protect anyone. Not even himself.
As a priest, he couldn’t—he shouldn’t—touch her.
Problem was, couldn’ts and shouldn’ts weren’t having their usual effect on him. His growing desire for her had the power to block out all other priorities. Adding to the problem was the fact that he wasn’t just physically attracted to her. He liked her. And each time he saw her, that liking grew.
He’d learned the hard way to be a realist. His family had been taken from him, and he’d made himself accept the fact that it would take time to reunite everyone. The reality here was two-pronged: he had a job, one he wasn’t going to walk away from, and he wanted Naomi Brightman more than he’d wanted any other woman.
He looked toward the balcony window again. Bottom line, priest or not, Dane wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without touching her. Every inch of her.
And more.
NAOMI FASTENED HER EARRING, then gave herself a last once-over in the mirror. She’d tried on three outfits before finally settling on the simplest one—a pair of white shorts, a red halter top Molly had insisted she buy and red sandals.
She’d felt compelled to run up to the tower room to view herself in Hattie’s mirror. Now, fisting her hands on her hips, she glanced around the room that had once been Hattie’s private boudoir and ultimately her reinvention space. She was here. Somewhere. Naomi could sense it. “Look, I could use some advice. And not just about the clothes.”
She spoke in a hushed voice, and the only response to her question was the distant sound of the sea.
What had she expected? But she’d felt the need to talk to…someone. Not Avery. He was a man, and as understanding and supportive as he was, she was used to talking to women. Her sisters.
Naomi turned back to study her image in the beveled glass again. “I can’t really talk to Reese and Jillian about this…this priest thing. They’d be shocked. And I’m still the older sister. The role model. How can I tell them about my secret fantasy to seduce a priest? The one I drew out of your hatbox.”
In the distance, the sound of the sea seemed to grow louder.
“I figured if anyone would understand, you would.”
How many times had the aging ex-Hollywood star stood right here and examined herself in this very glass? For a moment, Naomi thought she detected something in the mirror—a flicker of light? She couldn’t see anything when she stepped forward, but the room grew a little colder, and she experienced a deepening of the connection she’d felt from the beginning with the island and with Hattie Haworth.
Encouraged, she said, “In less than half an hour, I’m going to the beach with Father Dane MacFarland. And I want him so much that I can’t think straight.” She clasped her hands in front of her, determined to get it all out. “When I’m with him, all I can do is feel. It’s…wonderful. Amazing.” So amazing that she couldn’t prevent herself from doing one quick spin. As she did, the outfit she wore caught her eye. The shorts and halter top were such a sharp contrast to her regular clothin
g. The sundress she’d worn when she’d left the shop had made her feel feminine. But this… “He makes me feel like a woman.”
Had she ever felt like a woman before? Big sister? Yes. Confidante? Often. Friend? Absolutely. Attorney? She thought of all the dull, quiet suits, the days she’d spent in the firm’s law library, the tedious time spent in court, sitting second chair to her boss.
Turning, she glanced around the room again. “The avenging angel role is easier.” She waved her hand back and forth. “Whack, whack, and you’re done. Being a woman is more complicated.”
Nerves jittered again in her stomach. Turning to focus on her image again, she willed them to settle. “Is that how you saw yourself when you looked in this mirror, Hattie? Was it here that you first saw yourself as a woman?”
Deep in the glass, a light shimmered.
Naomi started, then forced herself to continue. “Yesterday when I got here, I decided to become the new Naomi. My plan was to take little steps. But what I’m thinking of doing is taking a flying leap. With no safety net. I’m not sure that I’ll have the guts to do it. But if I go to the beach with Father MacFarland, I don’t think I’ll have a choice.” Her hands were so tightly clasped now that her fingers were going numb. She lifted her chin. “I’m actually thinking of seducing a priest.”
There. She’d said it aloud. Nerves had tightened in her stomach, but lightning hadn’t struck her. Then something stirred in the air around her, and Naomi peered more closely into the mirror.
The light shimmered again—just for an instant.
“Did you actually seduce a priest, Hattie?” she whispered. “Have you ever wanted anyone so much that you would break all the rules? Commit the biggest sin?”
This time there was no shimmer of light. The sound of the sea was the only answer she heard. A sudden thought struck her. “Or maybe all those parchments in the hatbox are just ‘let’s pretend’ fantasies—like the sex games they publish every few months in Cosmo.”
Whirling, she paced away from the mirror, then turned and strode back to face it again. “You’ve probably never read Cosmo, but this isn’t a make-believe fantasy. It’s not a game. I’m involved in the real deal here. He’s a priest, and I can’t stop myself from wanting him. I’m thinking of committing a big sin. Huge. And it packs a double whammy because if I do go ahead with this, I’m dragging him into it just the way Eve dragged Adam.”
Naomi paused. She was beginning to babble. To a ghost. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she stepped closer to the mirror. Did she really think that by coming here she could reach a decision? If she’d had a choice, hadn’t it already been made?
If she went to that beach with Father Dane MacFarland… The only question remaining was how in the world did one go about seducing a priest?
Her stomach felt tense and her palms went damp. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there gazing into the mirror before the glimmer of an idea came to her. Of course. Heart pounding, she placed a hand against the glass. “Thanks, Hattie.”
Then she ran out of the tower room.
8
DANE WAS LEANING against the Corvette when Naomi raced down the steps of the hotel. For a moment all he could do was stare. He even forgot to breathe.
She was stunning. He’d known she was attractive in a subtle way. And he’d imagined her in various stages of nakedness. But it was a far different experience to see her in the flesh.
And there was definitely a lot of flesh showing. His eyes never strayed from her as Avery loaded a canvas tote into the back of the car. And when she turned to take the keys from the hotel manager, Dane let his gaze travel down her nape over her shoulder blades and the smooth, generously exposed back to her waist.
Oh, yeah, there was more than enough flesh. Any benefit from his cold shower was completely negated once he allowed himself to look at her legs. Now all he could think of was having them wrapped around him, trapping him as he pounded into her.
He was grateful for the support of the car. His palms were pressed flat against the fender, and they burned. Not from the heat of the sun on the metal, but from the overwhelming need to touch her.
“Ready?” she asked.
More than, Dane thought as he nodded.
“Let’s go then.” She moved to the driver’s side and climbed in.
“Right.” He folded himself into the passenger seat. Knowing that he was in big trouble, he fingered the Roman collar as she shot the car out of the hotel driveway.
SWEAT TRICKLED DOWN his back as Michael Davenport watched them drive off. Posing as one of the gardening team provided a good cover, but trimming hedges in a maze that seemed at times to be as large as Canada was damn hard work. Plus, he was limited to watching comings and goings. The upside was that the tedious and repetitious job had allowed him to work off some of his anger and clear his head.
And his patience had finally paid off. Stepping into the shade at the side of the hotel, he set down his clippers and took a long swallow from the thermos that hung from a strap on his shoulder. The tote bag the hotel manager had placed in the back of the Corvette had picnic lunch written all over it. That meant the priest and Naomi would be absent from their rooms for a time.
It was a double bonus as far as he was concerned. If the priest was FBI, then that meant there’d be one less set of eyes looking for him. And Naomi would be out of her room for at least an hour or two. That would give him time to look around. If he found what he was after, he’d take it and leave. If not, he’d at least have an opportunity to plant some surveillance equipment in her rooms as well as the priest’s. One way or another, he’d have what he needed soon.
It wasn’t an ideal situation. Feds usually traveled in pairs. But one was easier to handle than two. And he could handle himself. The closest call he’d ever had was in Kansas City three years ago. Everything had gone smoothly as usual. But when he’d shown up for that final meeting with his partner, she’d had someone with her.
He’d shot the man before he’d even had a chance to turn around. Then he’d had the chance to see the expression on his partner’s face before he shot her.
Both of them had paid for the betrayal. And his current partner would pay also.
The anticipation of that happening had Michael’s lips curving as he bent down to open his duffel. After exchanging his baseball cap for the fishing hat he’d worn in town and packing up his clippers, he headed for the back entrance of the hotel.
He was due for a change in luck, so there was a chance that he’d find what he was looking for in Naomi’s room. If not, he wouldn’t be that disappointed. His favorite part of every con he worked was the challenge of the endgame.
SHE DROVE AS SHE HAD on the way into Belle Bay earlier—fast, with just a hint of recklessness. Dane kept his eyes on the road, putting his hand up to the dashboard only once when she careened around a curve and braked to an abrupt stop to avoid a collision with a cow.
“Sorry,” she said. “The car seems to set my inner speed demon free.”
“No problem.” This was the side he hadn’t seen in Boston. He risked a quick sideways glance. She was smiling as she sent the car speeding up a hill, then took a quick turn onto a dirt road. Had the recklessness been there all along, just waiting for the right moment to spring free?
“You said you watch CNN and read the newspapers, Father. Do you ever watch movies?”
Grateful for the distraction of conversation, Dane said, “Sure. I’ve been known to do that.”
“What kinds?”
“Old ones. The kind they run all night long on free movie channels.” Those were the only ones he’d had access to while he was growing up.
She sent him a surprised look. “Then you’ve probably seen some of Alfred Hitchcock’s films?”
“All of them. My favorite is Rear Window.”
“This drive reminds me of To Catch a Thief.”
“The wild ride that Grace Kelly takes Cary Grant on in the hills above Monaco.”
“E
xactly.” She slowed as she took the next curve, then eased the car to the side of the road and parked. “What do you think?”
What he thought was that he’d better stop thinking that Grace Kelly’s motivation on that drive was to seduce Cary Grant. Some distance below them was a stretch of sandy beach trapped between two cliffs. Falling away from the cliffs were huge piles of rocks that extended about a quarter of a mile out into the sea. Waves slapped against them, sending spray high into the air. But the water trapped between the rocks formed a small cove with quiet blue water. From their current position, the outline of Haworth House could be seen to their left, and to their right, on an angle of land that jutted out into the sea, sat a lighthouse. “It’s beautiful. And so quiet.”
The sound of the surf that he could hear so clearly at the hotel and at the busy pier in town was muted. The only things marring the silence were the steady sound of the wind and the lonely cry of a gull as it soared into the sky.
“We have to climb down,” she explained. “It’s a little steep at times.” She shot him a glance. “Are you okay with that?”
“I’ll manage.” The more important question was how he was going to handle things once they were on that deserted beach.
“The land belongs to the hotel, so the locals don’t come here. And I advised my sisters against advertising it to the guests.” She made a sweeping gesture. “When the tide comes in, the rocks on either side become very slippery, and the beach completely disappears. A couple of the caves nearly fill with water. No one comes here. It’s very private.”
Keep your mind on the job, MacFarland.
As she spoke, she got out of the car and grabbed a small straw bag from the backseat. “Can you get the other tote? Avery had the kitchen pack us a picnic lunch.”
Dane lifted out the canvas bag and followed her to the edge of the cliff. The land sloped down gradually for a while in terraced ledges. Here and there, wildflowers pushed their way out of crevices in the rocks. But it was Naomi’s scent that wrapped around him, teasing his senses.