T is for Temptation

T is for Temptation [Witchy Women 1] by Jianne Carlo Siren-BookStrand, Inc. www.sirenbookstrand.com Copyright ©2008 b...

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T is for Temptation [Witchy Women 1] by Jianne Carlo

Siren-BookStrand, Inc. www.sirenbookstrand.com

Copyright ©2008 by Jianne Carlo First published in 2008, 2008 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

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CONTENTS Dedication T IS FOR TEMPTATION Cupcake Comfort Crochet Clubs & Rose Petals Unpredictable Harbor Gladiators, Vikings & Cowboy Acrobatics Bach Bribes Bullies & Blow Jobs Lingerie Lust Roadrunner Antics Doubtful Magic Grahamed Out BMWs & Big Macs Caretaker Visions Fae Temptation Mirror Images Grosvenor Glee Coffee, Tea & OJ Stick a Pin Maggie May Happy Ever Afters Connect the Dots Dead Bait The Good, The Bad & The Ugly Pinball Wizards Time Voids 3


A Pink-Ribboned Stallion About the Author ****

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T IS FOR TEMPTATION Witchy Women 1 Jianne Carlo EROTIC ROMANCE ****

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**** Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com 6


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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ABOUT THE E-BOOK VERSION: Your purchase of this ebook allows you to one LEGAL copy for your own personal use. It is ILLEGAL to send your copy to someone who did not pay for it. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. T IS FOR TEMPTATION Copyright © 2008 by Jianne Carlo E-book ISBN: 1-60601-166-9 First E-book Publication: October 2008 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2008 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. Printed in the U.S.A. PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com 8


Dedication For the strongest woman on the face of the planet, at least as far as I'm concerned: Angelica Cecilia Leandro Pires All my love always, J. In memoriam, Joseph Anthony Bernard Pires, Father, hero, friend, All my love always, J. [Back to Table of Contents]

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T IS FOR TEMPTATION Witchy Women 1 JIANNE CARLO Copyright © 2008 A Dolphin's Trust Port of Spain; Trinidad Tallulah Trent. Tee. Island siren. Tortuous temptation. Recent widow of his bat-slime, criminal partner Tony Trent. How the hell did he break the news to her? Even as the sight of Tee deep-sixed his senses, Jake Mathews noted the three parked police cars blocking the culde-sac, their blue lights flashing, and the knot of angry uniformed men cordoning Trent and Mathews' Trinidadian office. A sweeping survey yielded a television camera unit and a reporter wearing an earpiece. He groaned. Every muscle bunched, and dormant nerves sizzled, sending a shooting lance to the base of his skull. Why were the police here? 10


He had two goals on this spur of the moment trip from his corporate headquarters; close down the local office, and seduce Tee. Already in trouble with the IRS in Florida, he didn't need any added pressure in Trinidad, and a huddle of six uniformed cops could only mean one thing, trouble. Imminent scandal loomed, not to mention financial catastrophe, if the pending charges against his firm had become public knowledge. Between Tee's father's political aspirations and the conservative, stodgy petroleum industry his business relied upon, media exposure had to be avoided at all costs. "What the hell's going on here?" Jake elbowed the policeman who gesticulated at Tallulah out of the way. He planted his solid form in front of her. "And who be you?" The man's pugnacious, hostile tone took Jake aback, especially when his thick lips bared large rabbit teeth with their gold caps glinting a blinding reflection of the tropical sun. If anything, Jake's protective stance ratcheted the cop's animosity, and the officer's wrestler-built form angled forward, the veins in his corded neck bulging. He shook a tight, meaty fist at Tee. "Don't you go anywhere, Mrs. Trent." Contemptuous malice laced the detective's low rumble. That did it. Jake's mouth curled into an automatic belligerent sneer, a reflexive action honed from an adolescence mired in defending the younger boys in his care. At thirty-four, his 11


daily workout alternated between weightlifting, boxing, and martial arts. His obvious fighting expertise, plus the fact he topped the cop by a good six inches, made the man scowl and lean back. He shifted right so his body blocked Tee from the line of uniformed men that materialized behind the figure he confronted. "I'm Jake Mathews," he said, keeping his voice even, but telegraphing promised damage should any one of the policemen decide to become aggressive. Jake waved a hand at the house to their right, once a family residence, but now converted to a business office because of the Trinidadian oil boom and the lack of space in its capital, Port of Spain. "This building belongs to my company. Mrs. Trent's husband was my partner. He died four months ago. What's the problem?" "Oh yeah? You were Trent's partner?" The policeman's drawled question held derision and a gruesome anticipatory delight. He slapped his hands on ample hips. "You're American. You can't own property here." The tropical early morning sun warmed Jake's back, and he cursed the business formality, remnants of British colonial rule, which insisted on a jacket and tie in a country ten degrees above the equator. He twisted around and shot Tee a glance, anxious to protect and shield her from the obnoxious authority figures.

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As usual, the sight of Tallulah Trent heated his blood and prickled awareness across every inch of flesh, setting his randy shaft into action. He swallowed and drank her in. Seven years younger, Tee radiated a contradictory, intriguing combination of aristocratic confidence and ingénue, comfortable in diplomatic circles and with royalty, yet retaining a little-girl-lost kind of innocence. She wore a creamy halter dress in a gauzy material. A warm wind circled the cul-de-sac, and the fabric caressed her athletic body, shaping her slim curves, and her nipples stiffened, straining delicious points against the thin textile. Long, tawny ringlets teased at her bare gold-dusted shoulders framing arms muscled from her Equestrian training. Tee's mere presence always drew his cock to half-mast, and now his blasted organ saluted to military attention, aching with want, need. His dazed mind didn't allow the peculiar circumstances to sink in until his gaze reluctantly left Tee and swung back to the immediate problem. He noticed the revolvers strapped to the sides of the gray-clothed men crowding her from behind. They moved forward in unison, wide-legged stances inches away from contact with Tee's rear end. The contentious posturing drove Jake's every chivalrous instinct to the forefront. Fury sent him into a long-legged step when one of the men grabbed Tee by the elbow and yelled an obscenity, the man's snarling features inches away from her profiled nose.

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He snagged the man's hand, clamping a fist around flabby flesh, and squeezed. "Touch her again, and you're a dead man. Step back." "You can't do that, Yankee. This is our country." Even though the man shouted the words, he retreated, wrenching his forearm out of Jake's purposeful, painful grip. He rubbed the injured area and glared, careful to maintain a wide berth. The Trinidadian police force had a notorious reputation for avid participation in both drug running activities and local kidnappings for ransom. Once in their custody, it could be difficult to effect release. "And you're supposed to uphold the law, not abuse innocent women." Jake's growled, menacing tone gave the officers pause. He read it in their wary repositioning several steps away from Tee. Satisfied he held any threat at bay, he snatched her hand and swung around, careful to shield her with his bulk. "I didn't say I owned the building. My business leases it." He faced the original offender, raking a quick assessment. The man suffered from a Napoleon complex; that much seemed clear. Short, stocky, and pig-snout ugly, his complexion darkened to an odd purple hue. "Mrs. Trent is Mr. Henry Inglefield's only child. I'd tread warily if I were you." "Yeah? We found cocaine on the premises, and that means I can take her into custody if I feel like it." The man, an inspector by the insignias decorating his drab uniform, jabbed a finger at his own chest. 14


"Try it," Jake said. "I'll have the American ambassador here before you can blink." He added, "And I have direct access to the prime minister." A blatant lie, but a knockout punch nonetheless as none of them could question his statement. Since the Trinidadian prime minister was the equivalent of the leader of the United States, and Tee's father rumored to be the next president of the small republic, the men backed down, defeated by Jake's combination of innuendo and vehemence. "Jake," Tee pleaded, and she tugged the sleeve of his jacket. "It's all right. I called Dad's lawyer. He told me to leave right away and go about my normal activities." He glanced at her, and the concern in her light brown eyes held him entranced for a brief moment. "I'll handle this, Tee." She tiptoed, cupped a hand over his ear, and whispered, "Please, don't antagonize the policemen. They terrorized the staff, and I only just got them to promise not to take anyone into custody." Her warm breath streamed over his earlobe, and he had to tamp down the automatic tightening in his nether regions. They sallied back and forth, her whispering, him growling, until he surrendered to Tee's entreaties and led her out of range of the still-quarreling police squad. "What's going on? What's this about cocaine?" Tee's eyelids squeezed shut, and the strong line of her jaw moved. She sighed, and the rise and fall of those firm breasts mesmerized him for spellbound seconds. "I'm sorry, Jake." 15


To his surprise, she covered his hand with both of hers and met his gaze, but he couldn't read her expression. "I'm sorry partnering with him has done nothing but cause you problems." The bitter emphasis on the word him only served to reinforce Jake's growing conviction Tee knew of Tony's infidelities and she held no grief over his death. On the plane ride to Florida after his visit last week, the fact she never referred to Tony by his name or with anything but revulsion had hit Jake like a hurricane. That plus their first kiss, his first taste of her sweetness, had convinced him he stood a chance, could persuade her into an affair. Hope had transformed his hunger into pulsating, fervid desire, and he couldn't resist the temptation to return and test the waters. Her waters and her deep, hot glove. The thought of being inside Tee consumed him, compelled every action. His breath hitched, and he thought of his mad scramble to cancel days of business meetings simply to have more time with her, two more days. It'd been four eternal months since Tony's death; surely he'd waited long enough. "And now they've confiscated his SUV, and Tricia's going to be angry with me." Always bemused and beguiled in her presence, her words only added to his confusion. "What? Why on earth did they do that?"

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"I don't know. I've never had a policeman treat me so, so..." Her voice trailed off, and she crinkled her nose. "With so little respect." Unsaid words filled in the rest of her meaning. As the daughter of the possible president of Trinidad and Tobago, the authorities treated Tallulah Trent with kid gloves. "I called Dad, but he's up to his ears in meetings, and I couldn't speak with him. It's Bastille Day, and Henry and Tricia are having a dinner party for the French ambassador and twenty of their intimate friends. You know how my parents are." Tee rolled her cat-gold eyes. "Tricia sent me down the islands to fetch her hibiscus crystals for the occasion. On the way there, I got a phone call about the robbery, and now they've taken the jeep, and I'm stuck." "Okay, Tee. Slow down a bit." He realized jangling nerves had her babbling. "The office was burglarized?" "Yes. That's why the police are here. When the staff came in this morning, they found the offices torn apart. They called me and then the police and tried to figure out what was taken. The computers were stolen, of course, as were all the printers and the fax machine." Three puzzled lines drew her tawny brows together. "The police chucked the staff out and taped off the area. They won't let anyone in, so how on earth are we supposed to know what's missing?" 17


She threw her hands up in the air and rolled her eyes again. "Why did they confiscate Tony's car?" As time ticked by, the sun rose higher in the sky, and the growing intensity of its rays prompted him to shrug off his jacket and loosen his tie. The low murmur of cruising automobiles on the busy main street fronting the quiet culde-sac ebbed and flowed. "The officer said it was because they found cocaine on the premises, which is preposterous. I mean, cocaine of all things. Tony was a—" She bit her lower lip and studied the asphalt road with a fierce concentration, and her flesh pinkened. Everywhere. Tonight, he promised himself, tonight. Soaring hope and a building sexual fever drove his thoughts. Tony was a what? Did she know how despicable her husband had been? The disgust in her tone didn't portray a woman grieving. No, it pointed to a betrayed wife. "Those cops are coming our way." He cupped her elbow and urged her in the opposite direction. "I have my rental car with me. Let's get out of here. I'd prefer to speak with my lawyers first if the cops are going to interrogate us. And I definitely don't want them taking you into custody." She glanced around his shoulder at the line of uniformed men bearing their way. "Dad's lawyer did say I should leave immediately, and I have to get those damned crystal holders. You're right. We should go." 18


Within the space of a couple of minutes, Jake edged the car onto the roadway, but the snarling, perpetual Port of Spain traffic made their getaway more of a creeping escape. In the rearview mirror, he kept an eye on the cops, and the tension in his neck seeped away when they made no attempt at following them. During the course of doing business in the Caribbean over the last few months, he'd heard endless horror tales of illegal detentions and powerless embassies. He had enough trouble with Tony's embezzlement charges in Florida, the last thing he wanted to contend with—was drug charges in Trinidad. He added another possible crime to his dead partner's slate, drug trafficking, and wondered anew at his own gullibility. "Jake?" He swept a glance at her, and the sweet entreaty in those liquid pools of honey arrested his mind and put another impudent organ in charge. Steady, settle down, he urged his prick. "Tee?" he replied, his brain searching for a secluded, intimate location they could be together, maybe have lunch. "Would you mind taking me for the hibiscus crystal holders? The police said it would be two days at the earliest before they'd let anyone in the office, so you won't be able to work anyway." Her telltale nervous habit of touching the tip of her delicate pink tongue to the left corner of her mouth distracted him, and memories of their kiss kept all logical thought hostage. He'd have agreed to anything at that moment. "Sure." 19


His cock thanked her with jerks and twitches, and Jake shifted in the car seat, adjusting. "Which way are we headed?" "To the yacht club. It's at the western tip of the island. You know how to get to the Foreshore Highway. Just head in that direction, and we'll end up there." Flicking on the left indicator to follow her directions, he said, "Now, explain to me what we're retrieving and why." "It's my mother. When Tricia entertains, everything has to be perfect. It's her damned finishing school training." "I seem to remember her saying you followed in her footsteps?" Jake grinned at her rueful expression, so entranced by the curve of her cheek and the long, tanned legs displayed by her short dress, that a wash of unrestrained sentimentality tempered by a powerful lust, threatened his normal discipline. He ordered his prick to behave, hang for an hour or two, and kept his eyes fixed on the road. "Tricia would boast about that. Well, she went because she wanted to. I went because it was the only way she'd agree to let me go to equestrian college in Vermont." He loved the endearing way she crinkled her nose, and he relaxed, content to listen to the sound of Tee's melodious voice, with that clipped little British edge, and enjoy her company. "I don't suppose you know this, and I'm certain it'll bore you to Hades, but hibiscus flowers close at night. The only way to make them stay open is to pick them early in the morning while they're in full bloom. Then you put them into a 20


sealed bag in the fridge until after dusk. The crystal containers Tricia wants have a bulb at the tip for water. Just before her guests arrive, she'll set the flowers into the chilled hibiscus holders and scatter them on her formal dining table. Most foreigners don't know this technique, and it's my mother's best kept secret for impressive entertaining. She likes to hear her audience ooh and aah." Their worlds stood more than hemispheres, even polar poles, apart, and her resigned explanation emphasized the yawning gap between them. Jake, the product of an upstate New York orphanage run by retired Catholic priests, and Tee, the daughter of aristocratic British parents whose lineage traced to William the Conqueror. "I see," he said, unimpressed. "I've heard some of the men at the Union Club talk about down the islands. What does the term mean? Trinidad is, after all, an island. Does it refer to the sister isle, Tobago?" They passed the impressive national sports stadium; it put any regular US sports arena to shame. Trinidad, referred to as the Hong Kong of the Caribbean, invested its surplus oil revenues in structures designed to impress the rest of the world, and its national team had made it to the World Cup soccer finals, a feat both envied and celebrated by the rest of the islands making up the archipelago. The inside of the vehicle cooled, and Jake stabbed a button to set the current temperature. Inside a cool seventy degrees, the outside digital readout glowed ninety-two. "Not at all. Trinidad was once part of South America, actually part of Venezuela. Most experts think a plate shift 21


caused it to break off from the continent. When that happened several small islands formed between the two countries, and that's what we call Down the Islands," she said, her fingers forming quotation marks around the phrase. "Um, some families have homes on the islands. Vacation homes." A rosy hue warmed her skin, and she averted her eyes. Jake interpreted her silence to mean members of the oldmoneyed upper class of Trinidad and Tobago owned these vacation homes. No plebes in this neighborhood. "It's actually wonderful. I spent most of my childhood either on a boat or a horse. Being down the islands is like having your own tropical paradise. Dad and I used to go down every Saturday and fish, either trolling for deepwater big catch or banking for smaller snapper. Fishing is so relaxing." Total shock had his foot tapping on the brake, and the car jerked in response. The last activity he ever imagined Tee enjoying and participating in was fishing. It didn't go with his image of her, a vulnerable feminine puzzle, always dressed to perfection, managing to captivate and charm in a delicate way. "You fish?" "Yep," she said, and genuine pleasure at his shock glistened from those wonderful eyes with their golden shimmer. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, and he strained to contain the delight the sheer sight of her impishness wrought. "I much prefer deep water, though. I like a good fight." 22


He couldn't prevent the words. "I know you're an expert equestrian, but fishing?" "I can clean, gut, and scale a fish faster than anyone I know." His eyes flew to her, and the picture her words painted surprised a chortle out of him. "Shocked you there, didn't I?" A little devil lit her face, and she scrunched her nose. "Unlike the image my family likes to present of me, I've been riding since I was six and began taking care of my own horses by myself"—she emphasized the last two words— "since I was ten. I de-tick manes, ears, and parts of a stallion most people would rather not mention. I learned how to shoe a horse before I was a teenager. I am not a simpering female, even if I did go to damned finishing school." She folded her arms under those luscious breasts and glowered at him. He held up a hand. "Hey, have I said a word?" "Oh, please. You should have seen the look on your face. Fishing and de-ticking were the last activities you ever thought me capable of." "Tee, I like you exactly the way you are, de-ticking and all," he said, smiling like an adolescent teenager thrilled to have his biggest crush opening up to him. Her reaction set his heart into a wild staccato and his prick into a happy stretching. She blushed, ducked her chin, and peeped up at him, those saucer big browns entrancing and wide with shy innocence. 23


"Oh." Color skittered across her skin, and she twiddled her thumbs, one circling the other. Silence fell. He shot her quick surreptitious cuts, wondering what troubled her, as the miles flew past and the road hugged a ragged coastline. The quiet lengthened, broken only by the hum of the radio playing steel band music and the odd calypso. A pensive shadow accentuated the bleak, taut line of her mouth, as if self-disgust haunted her thoughts. The urge to hold and comfort threatened to overwhelm his good intentions, and he sought refuge in banal conversation. "I've never been to this part of the island." She jerked her gaze away from the lush, forested landscape on the passenger side. "This used to be an American military base. Over there is the old headquarters, and opposite it is a helicopter pad. During the Second World War, Trinidad became an important refueling location for submarines. Since the island's never been hit by a hurricane, it was also a safe harbor for warships." "I didn't know that. I always think of Trinidad as British." "It is, or was, British for a long time. Columbus discovered it and claimed it for Spain, of course, in 1498. He saw the three mountain ranges from the sea and called it La Trinitaria, for the Trinity." "You're very proud of the island, aren't you?" "Yes and no. There's an underside to Trinidad society you haven't seen, and it's not pretty." 24


She pointed to the right. "Turn here, Jake. This is it." She added, "Am I wrong, or weren't you supposed to come in on Wednesday?" "You're right," he said. "I had a few cancellations and decided to come earlier. Is my timing inconvenient?" "Of course not. I don't have your hectic schedule." "Why do you say it like that?" he asked, surprised by the intent, self-directed scorn in her voice. "Nothing." She gestured to the left. "Pull in over there. I haven't been here in ages." "Why not?" Her lips flattened, and she shrugged. He clued in. "Is this where Tony kept his racing boat?" She snorted. "It was usually in the water. He kept it at the family home on the island." Turning the vehicle into a wooden stall with a galvanized roof, Jake kept his foot on the accelerator until the SUV's front bumper paralleled a metal railing. He switched off the engine. Tee had the car door open before he could turn his head, and she hopped out and stuck her head through the narrow opening. "The club house is down that path," she said, pointing at a crazy-angled, geometric structure fronted by a long, curved pier. "Why don't you change into shorts and sneakers if you have any?" Her eyes angled at his feet. "Oh, you're wearing Timberlands. Those will do fine. I'll get the boat into the water." 25


She marched in the direction indicated, and Jake nabbed his carry-on from the backseat. Used to being in charge, the one issuing instructions, her commands set his teeth on edge. He caught up with her in quick order, although she seemed oblivious to the squeaking of the carry-on's wheels. Greeting wizened men in trunks and T-shirts as she walked, Tee ignored his presence. Jake kept a tich behind her along a path leading to a wall of tinted sliding glass doors forming the entrance to the black-and-white-marble-tiled clubhouse. The eleven o'clock sun lit the surroundings a dazzling white. He squinted as she sprinted to the left, away from him, and he followed her lithe, graceful limbs as she hopped down from the jetty onto a rocky beach, picking her way to an enormous trailer. This new efficient edge of Tee disturbed and fractured his long-deliberated plans, but it also rocketed his desire skyward. Seduction seemed so much easier if he could protect her and build a fortress for the two of them. Yet the fierce determination evident in her every line, her taut posture, when she flung those gutting and cleaning words sent a shiver of pride through him. Amazon warrior incarnate indeed. The interior of the clubhouse matched the futuristic exterior; sleek, clean lines with a magnificent mirrored bar to the right of a stainless-steel reception area devoid of a single hint of warmth. A swift survey revealed not a person in sight, and, on the left, Jake spotted a sign for the men's lockers. 26


While changing, he realigned his strategies with this new Tee opportunity. A quick mental rundown didn't result in any definite ideas, but, with the briefest hesitation, Jake decided to go for it, get inside her as often as she'd let him, starting today. After stowing the carry-on in a locker and pocketing the key, he strode to the still-empty lobby and rocked on his heels. Thrown into a sudden chaotic eruption of fierce lust by the thought of Tee in a bikini, graphic fantasies blurred his vision. Low-rise? Halter top? Thong? He closed his eyes and prayed. Images burned his pupils: little triangles covering pert nipples, wide expanses of bare flesh, those long legs curving into slim hips, her saucy rump so meant for a man's palms, his palms. A thin coat of moisture coated them, and they itched with intent. "You're ready." Her words and a waft of rosy perfume broke his train of thought. Lids flickering up, he concentrated on taming the rampant erection scraping against his denim shorts. "Good. Nice bathing suit. Do all Americans sport red, white, and blue clothing?" Caught off guard, Jake checked his attire, having pulled on the first pair of shorts he'd found. Sure enough, it was something left over from a Fourth of July sale. An internal groan shuddered through him, and his cheeks warmed in 27


embarrassment until he caught her checking out his rear, those amazing amber eyes sliding a notch to the side. When her face flamed, all awkwardness dissipated. A staggering macho arrogance drove his movements. Jake leaned in, cupped the back of Tee's head with his palm, swirled his fingers in her silken hair, dipped his mouth, and tasted her honey. Home, he'd found home. Tasting Tee consumed every rational thought, focused all his devouring urges, and he drowned in her sugar, an addict's fix, a junkie's craving. "Well, well. Tallulah Inglefield." The loud, derisive bark penetrated Jake's foggy brain, and he lifted his head with great reluctance. "Not quite the ice princess you like to pretend. Wait till the others hear about this!" A surgically enhanced buxom female, clad in a thong-style bathing suit and a nipple-bearing top, silhouetted the club's doorway. Jake gritted his teeth, recognizing the female as one Graziella Leandro, Tony's sometime paramour. Timing proved everything in life. "Jake Mathews. Words fail me. Mister high-and-mighty moral know-it-all. I wish Tony was alive to see this." The blonde sneered and waved red-taloned fingers in a disdainful, accusing gesture at their intimate embrace. When Tee tried to turn around, Jake tightened his arms and whispered for her ears only, "Don't. Let me handle it. Okay?" 28


He raked the bimbo from head to toe and said, "If you know what's good for you, Graziella, you'll keep your trap shut. One word, one word, about Tee, and you'll have to deal with me. I can make things very uncomfortable for you." The threat made Tee stiffen, and he felt her shudder, and knew he'd have a helluva a time explaining his remark. But, he didn't allow her a fraction of movement, kept her plastered to him, and relished every second of the intimate contact. The bimbo snorted, did an about-face, and vanished. Tee shoved her palms against his chest. "How do you know her?" "I'll explain later. Is the boat in the water?" He took a step back. "Are we ready?" "Yes," she replied and shot him a speculative look. "This way." Dead quiet commanded their every interaction until they'd been travelling in the luxurious fishing cruiser for twenty minutes. Every second clocking by drew out the explosive sexual strain hovering between them, sluicing away the splendor of the navy Caribbean Sea, Trinidad's rugged coastline, and the remarkable scenery flying past. Tee commanded the boat with the lazy expertise of long years spent at the helm. For the millionth time, he wondered if she'd collaborated with Tony, if the two of them set out to swindle him. He didn't trust his judgment as far as Tee went, his craving for her too potent, too raw, too primitive. And there was the blasted secretive aspect of her character and the guilt that decorated her face on so many 29


occasions. Then again, maybe his suspicious nature had gone into overdrive because of this desperate need to possess her, this never-before-felt protectiveness. Perhaps the whole thing came back to the contrasts in her makeup, the endearing vulnerability as opposed to her strong, long-limbed, athletic body, her domain over two-ton stallions versus her subjugation to her mother's every whim. Jesus. He tugged on an earlobe. Tee did things to him no other woman ever had, and he didn't like it, not one bit. No one controlled him. The wide expanse of ocean narrowed as they approached a steep-mountained island decorated with hordes of picturesque bays and vacation homes, which beggared the mind when contemplating the main mansions of the owners. He cut to Tee standing behind the wheel, hands manipulating the throttle, and he succumbed to the mindless fantasy of her commanding his throttle, her delicate tongue licking his engine. A shudder wrung through him. Reality intruded as the roar of the boat's twin props gentled to a hum and the vessel seemed to halt, although it still moved at a clip. The sight before him took his breath away. A tranquil, horseshoe-shaped bay centered the landscape in front of the cruiser, which lapped and danced over waves created by their earlier speed. Verdant steep inclines drew to a peak as azure sky and emerald mountain collided in an astonishing sparkle where flowering trees shot shimmering gold. 30


"This is Balmoral Bay," Tee said, staring straight ahead at a house situated in the precise middle of the bay, a charming Indian-red and white structure with a huge wraparound porch and a long, extensive pier jutting out from the rightmost end. "This is our Down the Islands home," she said, and the defensive bleakness in her voice had him off-kilter for long moments. "I used to love this place, until he took it over." "Jesus, Tee. Don't do this. Look at me." Frustration laced his growled entreaty, and it came out as a command. When she didn't even twist his way, disappointment morphed into desperation, and he hugged her from behind, edging around to see her face. "What are you angry at? The comment I made to Graziella? The fact I kissed you? What? I can't read your mind, and it's damned frustrating to sift through the clues. Look," he said and drew back, cupping her face with one hand. "I've wanted you from the first time I saw you at that British Embassy cocktail thing. If you didn't know it before, you must have realized it last week when we kissed." He searched her features and tried to discern the emotions flickering as her eyes widened, pupils dilating and darkening in shocked delight. Her tongue gravitated to the left corner of that sexy mouth, and fear and something else cast those big browns away from him. She wet her lips, and the small movement left him bereft, yawning with need. "The dolphins are coming in."

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Her soft words soothed an inferno raging inside of him, and she shifted in his arms, her expression a peculiar mix of hope and despair. "Over there, Jake. See the splashing. Every day, a school of dolphins swim into this bay. As a teenager, I'd swim out an hour before they were due and paddle water, waiting. It's the most marvelous, magical feeling in the world when they accept you and trust you not to harm them. Instead of avoiding you, they swim to you. Dolphins are so curious. Alain, one of our friends, he made us stay still until they started bumping us with their noses, inviting a response. To this day, it takes only about three days of swimming out, and we're back to the same childhood pattern. Trust." Her anguished café latte eyes met his, and she whispered, "I don't think I could ever trust another human being again, not after Tony." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Cupcake Comfort Tee couldn't believe she'd uttered the words. Humiliation and a frantic urge to disappear spurred opposing impulses, and retreat seemed in order. She shrugged out of Jake's unsettling embrace and tugged at the boat's wooden steering wheel. "Docking can be tricky this time of day," she said and concentrated on repeating time-honed safety precautions. "If you look to the right of the bay at the farthest point, you should be able to see a flutter of white-capped waves." She busied herself adjusting the engine's tempo to prevent a stall and waited for his response. "I see it." Bald, calm words and they only served to pour boiling water on already scalded emotions. Her feminine selfconfidence had always plonked up and down like a seesaw from the time she hit adolescence, and, around Jake, it teetered from dangling up in the air to hitting the ground hard enough to shatter. Did he feel the crazy pull she did? The urge to call him on it boomed like Notre Dame's church bells echoing in its tower. Her recklessness proved the edge necessary for victory in many an equestrian competition. Making a spontaneous decision based solely on instincts had never proved the wrong way to go during a jump meet.

33


Today, today. Tee gritted her teeth, no more avoiding the hard choices. Time to become a woman or find out she had no more sexuality than a discarded horseshoe. "It's a rip current called the Remous. Every morning around this time, it comes into the bay, starting from the right and moving to the left. Anything in its path not strong enough to resist ends up somewhere off the coast of Brazil. My father's good friend vanished with it a long time ago. My mother was so paranoid about it that I wasn't allowed in the water before noon." Her flesh rippled under his heated gaze, but she continued, determined to give him ample warning. "Of course, wayward child that I was, I never listened and climbed the hill to the other side of the island the minute the sun poked over the horizon, or even while it was still dark. I was in the water from dawn to just before mid-day. Then, I'd sneak back into the house and pretend I'd been a good girl. Tricia never suspected, but Dad knew. Sometimes, I wonder..." Threatening mists at the corners of her eyes dampened the clarity of her vision for mere seconds, but it was enough to throw the vessel off course. "Damn. Jake, nab the boat hook and grab the rings at the end of the jetty." She whirled the wheel around and pointed. "Sorry, I misjudged the angle." Tee maneuvered the sea craft into position, hopped off the deck, and secured it to the pier. Disheveled and disoriented, she managed a weak smile and offered, "We're here. Two choices, either we can take our time and swim a little and 34


then head up to Port of Spain, or I can grab what Tricia wants, and we can leave right away." She followed his lithe, athletic leap off the boat, admiring his tanned, muscular thighs. Tee made a vain attempt to stem the tide of poignant need weakening her limbs and capitulated to the odd fever he ignited somewhere deep in her soul. Five months ago she'd met him, on the eve of her wedding, and she knew, knew in the instant their eyes met. Knew she invited disaster by going ahead and marrying Tony. Knew she was damned to eternity by her lies and secrets. For the last four long, hope-filled months, Jake had visited Trinidad. A part of her she refused to acknowledge hoped and prayed he came for her. Too superstitious to say the words aloud, instead she yearned and fantasized and dreamed. His earlier words haunted and tempted, but inside she froze, too scared to take the brass ring, as the Americans called it. Have some courage, Tallulah Inglefield—dream the dream. Without allowing her brain to interfere, Tee did the impossible. She shucked off her shoes and slipped the cotton halter dress off her shoulders. "Or you can have me," she whispered, shrugging the textile off her body. Naked, standing in front of a jaw-dropped Jake and under an approaching noon sun, which highlighted every flaw in the exotic landscape, she raised her arms over her head and dove off the end of the pier. Salty ocean flowed across her shoulders, molding cool water down her nude body. Joy wrought from mingling 35


hysteria and frenetic hope erupted and translated energy into powerful breaststrokes. Instinct and buried memories sent her in the direction of the triangle-shaped raft anchored in the middle of the bay. Seagulls swooped and danced with every gasped inhale, and their cries emphasized the primitive despair she endured daily. Tony's last accusing refrain hammered away each time she neared acceptance, some semblance of serenity. "You're a freak, nothing but a circus freak." Hard plastic impacted on her downstroke. Tee grasped the raft's edge and leveraged upwards. Panting, she flopped onto her back and refused to think about the implications of her invitation, refused to look in his direction, refused to contemplate the impact of his disdain. She flung an elbow over her eyes as if shutting out vision would prevent misery if he rejected her blatant offering. Her ears rang with the effort of her furious swim, drowning all sound. "I'll have you." Her eyes flew open, and she jerked up onto her forearms to meet Jake's strong, harsh charcoal gaze mere inches away from hers. His hot, wet palm cupped her breast, and one thumb strolled over the taut tip, brushing it in a slow, hypnotic motion, which went straight to her center. "Look at me, Tee." It took considerable effort to move her eyes from his delicious, calloused thumb to those blazing obsidian orbs. Breathing reflexes once internalized, evaporated, and her lungs strained. 36


"I'll have you." He lay on his side, one palm cradling his head, and his focus never wavered. His finger never stopped its languid caressing, thumbing her nipple, wreaking havoc, vanquishing all thought, and spurring desire and need so intent it focused on him, only him, only this epitome of man. "You've no idea, do you?" His tongue traced the line of her ear, and she leaned into his soft nip of her lobe, gasping. "You've no idea of what you do to me. I lie awake at night and dream about touching you, like this." He drew in the whole tip of her breast, and Tee followed his mouth, levering up to accommodate his every action. He laved the point, and she thumped onto the raft, boneless erotic pleasure rolling over every inch of exposed flesh. "Oh my," she whispered, and the seagulls snatched her moan away with their cries. "Jesus, Tee. You're so beautiful, so perfect. I can't think." Wonderful moaning words rumbled against her neck, his groaned phrases and praises arching her spine, blasting off primordial reactions. Tee pressed her hand on the back of Jake's head, urging more pressure, and he complied, sawing her nipple between his teeth, the slight pressure a heightened pain-pleasure. "Oh, my," she breathed, and pure feminine instinct controlled her legs. She wrapped one across his lean, bare hip and drove up, grinding over large, long throbbing flesh. "Oh my." "Jesus, babe. Oh God, don't. Oh hell." 37


He bent down and slanted his mouth over hers, and his tongue swept inside her mouth, the sensation unbearable, inflaming, touching off a roaring inferno. Tee sunk her fingers into his silken black curls and returned his fervor, driven by a yearning so potent it threatened explosion, implosion. She touched her tongue to his, and the contact made her dizzy, giddy with focused licentiousness. The sun beat down on them. Hot. Intense rays of tropic hunger, pulsing, skittering sweat, and frenetic, frantic need. Birds called, water cuffed the raft's edges, skin slapped against damp skin. Jake's hands and his mouth reached everywhere all at once. Tee's craving surged with every suck, every lick, every nip. Every female instinct plugged in, and she ground her pelvis across his, rubbing slick folds up and down, her very writhing a begging plea for penetration, possession. "Jesus, Tee. Babe, slow down. I want to make it good for you." "Now," she exhorted, squirming and angling until she felt his hot flesh where she wept, aching, needy. "Jesus." His moan and the feel of him there, hard and exciting, supplanted every defensive civilized barrier ever raised. Her hips rose of their own volition, and the apex of his cock sank inside. Her muscles contracted and spasmed, and Tee screamed, mindless as rationality exploded into oceanic, 38


hedonistic delight. Wave after wave took her, and so wrapped up was she in her first experience of sexuality, that it took long moments for the pain to register. When it did, she bucked, which intensified the burning, and she wriggled, trying to find a better angle. "Tee?" Jake's shocked question stilled all movement, and panic froze her brain. "Jesus." He breathed, and his lips rumbled across her temple, the faint contact sending shivers down her spine. "I'm sorry, babe." He grasped her hips with both hands and exerted pressure. "Don't move. Don't move." All at once, insecurity and her shaky self-confidence reared, and Tee blinked away the moisture in the corners of her eyes. She shifted, trying to edge away from him. "Do I stop, Tee?" He touched his mouth to her temple. "Tell me now. I can't hang on any longer." "No, no. Don't stop, don't," she growled and wriggled her hips, arching up, cupping his buttocks, pressing him closer. "Thank God. I'll make it up, I promise," he groaned and eased out, a millimeter at a time. All at once bereft, she urged him back and moaned at the sweetness, the tightness, the awareness of every inch of him. "Oh my. Oh, more, please, more." "Jesus, babe, I can't hold back. Tell me if it hurts. Tell me." And he filled her again, a smooth sliding, yet an exquisite friction, another slow withdrawal, a quicker reentry. And her panting and gasps intensified as his pace escalated. 39


Soreness succumbed to the fierce, savage pleasure of his rhythmic plundering, the wonderful thrusts, in, out, the measured slapping of flesh. Every sensual aspect contributed: the whipping wind, the seagulls squawking, the aroma of musk and brine, the damp sheen on their skin, the sweet friction everywhere. Her hips grappled and met his pounding flesh, returning pressure with slick invitation, intensity with frenzied greed, seeking absolution, eternal gratification, and finding it when he shouted, "Yes!" His hands forced her to him, the joining so intimate, so engaged, so rapt, they both collapsed, unaware of their surroundings. Every sense magnified beneath her closed lids, the sun's blazing rays sizzling over sensitive skin, the raft's gentle rocking creating a saccharine chafing of flesh against flesh, fine-tuned to the exquisite joined juncture between her thighs. A bead of Jake's sweat plopped onto her shoulder, his hard chest grazed hers, the fine hairs there tickling a sultry caress. The low hum of an engine penetrated Tee's delicious trance. She didn't want to open her eyes, so she took a deep breath, and he smelled so wonderful, all male and sweaty with a faint hint of civilization, some musky aftershave. Temptation proved irresistible, and she licked his chest, tasting salt and sea and man, succumbing to his mecaveman-you-woman seduction. "I can't believe how much you turn me on," he muttered and rose on his elbows, leveraging his weight off her. 40


Tee couldn't believe how much disappointment the slight move caused. She reveled in his heaviness and relished the limpness in his body she'd spurred. She did that to him. A silly grin chased her mouth, and she touched her lips to his muscled chest, noticing the faint dusting of dark hairs, the way they swirled in the direction of his nipple. Curiosity spiked, she tongued the hard point and marveled when he stiffened and moaned. "Babe, don't do that. We have to talk." She did not like the sound of that. Jake cradled her face in warm, large palms that hinted of, she sniffed, cigars. "I didn't know you smoked." "Huh?" She tried for distraction, anything to prevent his inevitable questions. "Your fingers smell of smoke." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Don't try to distract me." Damn. She pursed her mouth. "This was your first time." He touched a finger to her chin. "Look at me, Tee." Taking a deep inhale, she lifted her lids and dived into eyes so dark, so mysterious, they reminded her of the black water of Amazonian rivers in Guyana, fathomless pools, chasms teeming with microscopic life. Hypnotic and hooded, she couldn't get a clue from them as to what he thought, how she should react. 41


It all felt so peculiar, him inside of her, large, and stretching her to the point of soreness. Aware of the slight shift of his hips as his weight slid to the left, she wriggled a little, trying to ease her discomfort. Jake raked her face, searching, and a bleakness stole over his features. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I'm not sure," she answered, the harshness in his voice making her wary and sponging away the very real necessity of deception. "I guess I was afraid you wouldn't have done it if you'd known." "I've been coming to Trinidad once a week for the last four months. For you, Tee. Only you. I've wanted this," he said and shot a rueful grimace down their joined bodies. "From the moment I met you. I just wished you'd told me. I could've made it better for you." Embarrassment flamed her cheeks, and she whispered, "I, um." She took a deep breath and said, rushing the words, "Any better and I would have expired on the spot." He chuckled and brushed their lips together. "You do wonders for my ego, Tallulah Inglefield." Everything seemed to come together, and she blurted, "You've never called me by his name." "And you avoid saying his name if it's at all possible." His dark eyes ran a cautious scrutiny. "That plus our kiss last week had me hoping for this." The humming of an engine intensified, and Tee snaked her eyes around Jake's muscular chest. "A fishing boat's coming into the bay." 42


"We'd better get decent pronto, then." He kissed her, a hard, fast contact. "This is by no means finished, simply on hold." He slid out of her, and a strange emptiness sucked their intimacy away. In an instant, she went from a comfortable coziness to a cold unease tempting doom. Anxious to avoid his prolonged perusal of her naked body, she slipped into the water and swam a furious pace, lunging onto the pier as soon as she made contact with the structure. He remained in the sea, treading water, as she dressed with hasty, jerky movements, aware of her every flaw. "I wish I could keep you naked forever. You're perfect." She'd never been naked in front of a man before, had been afraid he'd find flaws, scared he'd reject her. His words, the huskiness in his voice, the way his black eyes raked her, as if he'd devour every inch of flesh, flamed heat everywhere, and in that instant, she wanted to preen like a mare in heat. He climbed the metal rungs, one unembarrassed nude vision of male perfection. Water clung to his bronzed flesh, and a steady river streamed from the tip of his engorged penis. Mute fascination focused her gaze, and she wondered what he tasted like. She touched the tip of her tongue to the corner of her mouth. Jake swooped, gathered her close, and lapped the spot. "You do that several times a day, and every time that pink tongue appears, I want to taste you." "Oh my," she whispered and leaned to the side so his lips could maneuver more easily up her neck. "Jake, I hate to 43


interrupt, but I think that boat is going to dock. Maybe we should go inside?" They made it into the house just as the wooden fishing trawler docked at their jetty. Dressed, but damp, Jake surveyed the exiting passenger from the great room's front wall of ceiling-to-floor windows. "Do you know him?" "Yes, that's the caretaker. He lives here permanently in a cottage behind Eight Bells." "Eight Bells?" One of his dark eyebrows did an uphill run. "We English have a most annoying tendency to name our residences. Eight Bells is the name of this house, and Greenbriar is the name of the guest cottage in town." He grinned. "What's the name of the main town house, then?" She ducked her chin, and an impish grin played with her mouth as she shot him a gleeful dart. "The Main House." They both chuckled, and the tension in the air settled into the cozy companionship of individuals at ease with each other. "It looks like he's headed in this direction." Jake threw her a peculiar glance, all hooded and broody. "He's very young to have a position like a caretaker on a lonely islet." "I never thought about it. I'll have a quick word with him. Make yourself comfortable. There's always beer and juice in there." She pointed to the built-in industrial refrigerated wine cooler. "I'll be back in a flash." Tee discovered the caretaker's schedule included a visit to her parents' house that afternoon, and she pressed him into 44


delivering the damned crystal set to her mother. She jogged back into the house and explained her intentions to Jake while searching for the set. "Here it is." She pulled a long red Macy's box out of a cabinet. "I have no idea why Tricia carted it down here and buried it in a storage cupboard." At his puzzled expression, she crinkled her nose and explained. "Cabinets, I keep forgetting. The English say cupboards and the Americans cabinets. Hard to believe sometimes we speak the same language. Hang on a minute. I'll be right back." She waited until the caretaker's fishing boat reached the middle of the bay and retraced her steps to the house, wondering what the correct protocol for after sex included. "I found a bottle of red wine. Want a glass?" The cork popped out of the bottle with a loud sucking sound, and she nodded, studying him while attempting an air of nonchalance. "Does the caretaker have access to this house?" His long, brown fingers twisted the stopper out of the metallic helix corkscrew. "No," she replied, following the hypnotic motion of that strong hand, the image of it cupping her breast imprinted on her pupils. She blinked and frowned. "Why do you ask?" "There's a tray of still-warm cupcakes on the table over there. I had a couple. Delicious. Fact is, though, since the house was empty when we got here, where the heck did they come from?" 45


Blood pooled in her cheeks and drained from her extremities. Cupcakes. Damn, she hadn't conjured cupcakes in years. A strange sensation took control of her body, freezing every limb into a dazed slow motion, while her mind went into rocket-ship overdrive. Tottering on the edge of fullblown panic, Tee scrambled for a suitable explanation. "Check it out yourself if you don't believe me. Someone baked them and recently too. If he doesn't have access to the house, who does?" He poured red wine into two balloon glasses and jerked his head at the long table dominating the center of the large, rectangular room. She didn't have to look, but she did anyway and suppressed a groan. Her favorite treat as a little girl and her security blanket in times of emotional instability, cupcakes appeared whenever her control over her witchy powers slipped. "Here," he said and gave her one of the wine glasses. His dark eyes scanned her features, and he reached over and traced his finger along the curve of her cheek. "Are you okay, Tee? Sore?" His words poured a watershed of embarrassment down her neck, and she didn't know where to look. She gulped down some of the wine and followed the swirling of the ruby liquid as it bounced from rim to rim. "Ah, heck," Jake muttered. He pried her hands away from the stem of the glass, set it on the counter, and drew her into his arms. "You look like a rabbit about to bolt down its hole." 46


He kissed the top of her head, stroked the length of her spine, and tipped her chin up with his finger. Wary and more than a little bamboozled by his solid form, the heat of his body, the faint smell of the sea clinging to him, Tee melted, drowning in those sable eyes. Temptation ran rampant over logic, and she surrendered to the captivity of his gaze, the adolescent breathlessness of the delicious moment. "You are the most intriguing mixture of assurance and hesitation. One minute, the bold sea siren standing gloriously nude under a blazing tropical sun, the next a fawn attempting to blend in. Why were you a virgin, Tee?" Her mind spun with the sucker punch. Damn, damn. Think, think. "My marriage was a huge mistake, and I discovered that before, um, before anything happened." Tee concentrated on the pulse under his Adam's apple, taking solace from its steady beat. "You found out about Graziella and Tony." Her mouth dropped open. "You knew?" "She came with him to Boca for the opening of our new headquarters." Something akin to rage tightened every neck muscle, and she balled her fists trying to contain her explosive temper. "That's why you recognized her at the club." The line of Jake's sensuous mouth flattened, and he cocked his head to the right. "I met her before I'd even heard about you." "All this time you knew." Bitterness twisted her insides. "You must've gotten a good laugh about how naive I was." 47


"Never once found the situation anything but vile. You suspected nothing?" She winced and stared at his chest, fascinated by the sprinkling of dark hair peeking through the shirt's neckline. "I think I didn't want to know. After I found out, it all seemed only too obvious." "The clarity of hindsight." "I found out about them after the wedding. I had no idea it had gone on for so long. Everyone must have had a field day when he proposed. Graziella was at the dinner. Even dead, he finds new ways to humiliate me." She squeezed her eyes shut, remembered the cupcakes, and inhaled, struggling to control her rage. No more unplanned conjuring. "Let's talk about this now, and then we can move on. Why did you marry him?" She swallowed. "I'm not sure. It just sort of happened, and it seemed the right thing to do." His arms fell away, and one eyebrow lifted, skepticism dominating his expression. Tee stepped back, cupped the wine glass, lifted it to her mouth, and sipped, playing for time. She moved forward and unlocked the sliding glass doors leading onto the patio. As she hipped one side open, a gust of wind sent a dangling fishshaped copper chime into a musical frenzy. "All my life, all I ever wanted was to win a gold medal in the Olympics. You know Tony won a couple a few years ago. Dad contracted him to train me for the tryouts for the British equestrian team." 48


She perched on the edge of a white lounge chair and shot him a sideways glance. Although he faced her, those black eyes swept the bay in a careful assessment of the two lavish homes situated at opposite points of the bay's horseshoe promontories. Deciding a clear mind proved in order, she set her glass on a low, round table. "We trained for eight months, and I lost the final position by twenty seconds, a huge discrepancy. It was the worst thing that's ever happened to me. A total, humiliating failure." His piercing coal gaze collided with hers. The constriction in her throat inflated to word-gobbling size. "And Tony was there to pick up the pieces?" He sat facing her and leaned forward, one elbow braced on his thigh, swirling the crystal container. Wine circled and eddied in the glass in a peculiar hypnotic rhythm. She saw only concern in those sable eyes and plunged, surrendering to her impetuous nature. "Not exactly. My mother thought Tony was a perfect catch with his royal connections. I'm not sure if you knew, but he played polo with Prince Charles regularly. Tricia and I are not exactly close. She wanted a sweet, feminine replica of herself, and she got me, a tomboy obsessed with horses." Jake's dark eyebrows met, and he snorted. "Tee, you're the sexiest woman I've ever met, and your remarkable equestrian talents only add to that. The first time I saw you correct that stallion of yours after he threw you." He shook his head and grazed a thumb over his chin. "Let's just say, it was incredibly arousing." 49


She blinked, once, twice and wet her lips, her Tonybruised ego ratcheting up a nudge or two. His mouth curved, and he slid one knee between hers. One hot, muscle-bound thigh gave her a slight graze. It took a few seconds before she realized he wanted her to continue. "Tricia threw Tony and me together and kept telling me I was wasting my life, it was time to settle down. I think she's hoping a granddaughter might turn out more in her image." Shadows crossed the patio, creeping up the wide ivory floor inch by inch, ensnaring a complete rectangle. The chimes hanging behind tinkled an intermittent jingle in correspondence with the half-hearted breeze, attempting to gentle the stalwart tropical afternoon heat. "Were you in love with him?" Potent tension electrified the moist sea air, and he met her eyes with a fierce intentness as if some important fate rode upon her answer. "No, never," she said, and her jaw clenched. "He proposed in the middle of one of my mother's dinner parties, the whole romantic bit, with a violinist in the background. All of a sudden, everyone was congratulating us, and the next thing I knew, a date had been set." She shrugged. "You know the rest." A loud, old-fashioned ringy-dingy rent nature's musical background, the tone vulgar and abrasive above a gentle ocean lapping at the rocky beach, leaves rustling in the slight breeze, and the soft warbling of gulls having settled territorial fights. When the ringing repeated, Jake frowned, and Tee stood. 50


"Probably my mother," she said and strolled over to the ancient rotary instrument with a separate, tubular earpiece. "Hello." She listened to the caretaker's problem and promised to help while doing a quick check of the room. Giving Jake her back, she whizzed away the platter of cupcakes, sending it to some magical purgatory. A good thing this interruption, she couldn't risk losing control again. After disconnecting, Tee spun around, straight into Jake's solid chest. "Something wrong?" His low rumble strung shivers down her chest, a delicious intimate caress and a deep yearning to have the right to demand this, anytime, anyplace, stoked her penduluming emotions. "That was the caretaker. His engine's flooded, and he's stranded in the bay next to this one. I have to go and get him. I'll probably have to tow him to the club." "Did you plan this with him?" A rough grittiness edged his deep voice and tightness strained the corners of his mouth. "Pardon me?" The thumping of her heart hammered in Tee's ears, and guilt, prompted by the secret witchy part of her, made her normal agility falter. She stumbled backwards. Certain she hadn't heard correctly, she asked, "What did you just say?" "You heard me." "Did I plan his boat breaking down? Of course not. Why on earth would you think that?"

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"Why are you so relieved about the interruption, then? Just how well do you know this caretaker? Someone was in this house before us." A wash of remorse made her groan aloud, and she pressed her fist against her mouth. Then temper flared. "Is this typical after-sex protocol, an interrogation?" "You have to admit after this morning, with the burglary and the drug accusations, I have reason to be suspicious." "Of a caretaker's boat breaking down? Of me planning something with him?" She jabbed her hands on her hips. "You, of all people, know I can't be having an affair with him." "Okay, maybe I'm off base there, but why the consistent flashes of guilt? When I mentioned those cupcakes, you looked like a condemned woman. Were you involved in Tony's schemes?" [Back to Table of Contents]

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Crochet Clubs & Rose Petals Hell, he wanted Tee to be innocent, but every gutwrenching intuition told him she was hiding something. Something vital. A secret she was both ashamed of and one related to her marriage to Tony. Not Graziella, although a slice of true venom sparked when she spat out the other woman's name. The look on her sweet face earlier when he mentioned those cupcakes scrambled his smoke alarms and set his teeth on edge. Forged predatory traits so predominant in his makeup provoked a barrage of staccato questions, and he went for the gusto. "What are you hiding, Tee? Who was in this house before we got here? Where did those cakes come from, and how did they conveniently disappear in the few minutes we were on the patio? Did you really come here for those stupid decorations, or was this house part of Tony's drug-running operations?" Her full lower lip trembled for such a brief instant he wasn't certain he hadn't imagined the movement. Then a dart of sheer rage flared in those widening big browns, arresting any further investigative intent on his part. He recognized the expression lighting her face and retreated, putting a good two feet between them. She wore the same look the day her stallion had reacted to a command with a frenzied bucking and thrown her to the 53


ground. He'd never seen the likes of such a furious, instinctive reaction. Nothing could've stopped her. With a flying leap, Tee mounted the horse like a Native American Indian, grabbed the reins, and kneed the animal into a tight circle, around and around, until the steed trembled and frothed at the mouth. Then, she'd led the stallion through the same paces, which had sparked his defiance over and over, until he accepted her domination. Now she aimed that precise wrath at him. "Go to hell." She splayed each word out in a ferocious snarl and bounded to her feet. With a rueful grimace, Jake acknowledged her genuine reflexive response with not a minute hint of deception. A wash of immediate regret swamped him, and his first thought was he'd never get inside her again. Fierce need brought the blood to his prick, engorging it and slapping his testicles tight. Blast, the woman spurred conflicting responses in him, destroying the years of logical restraint he'd honed to perfection building his company. She glared and stomped one bare foot, knocking the wine glass off the table, and sending scarlet liquid splashing over the pale tiles. Snatching the glass up before it hit the floor, she twisted and shot him a look of pure rage. "Hell," he said as he stood. "That was out of line." The words fell on thick, empty air, and he followed her angry strides into the house until the shadowed interior hid her form. Doors slammed, a glass connected with a hard surface, and she reappeared, whizzing by him with the boat keys clanking from a hooked forefinger. 54


Blast, blast, blast. She seemed incensed enough to strand him on the tiny islet. He retrieved his deck shoes from where he'd left them in the kitchen and rushed after her, snagging through the thick cobwebs filling the space between the sliding glass doors. Cobwebs? The sticky translucent mass coating his hands served as a brief impediment, and he spun around to investigate the peculiar phenomenon when the loud thrumming of powerful engines met his ears. Jake spotted Tee in the boat, hopping over a tackle box to unsnarl the docking ropes. A quick choice had to be made, so he jogged down the wooden pier and barely jumped onto the boat's deck before the cruiser blasted into full throttle. Strong whipping air slicked the hair back from his face, renting his skin with stinging licks. With considerable difficulty, he made his way to where Tee stood behind the wheel, almost losing his balance as the boat slapped through the Remous current she described earlier. As they rounded the craggy promontory, Jake spotted the fishing trawler listing in the waves, sliding close to shipwreck-dangerous gray boulders. "What can I do?" he shouted into her ear, realizing the urgency of the situation. "I'll line the boat up as close as I can to him," she yelled as she squinted at the other vessel. Foam-crested waves walloped the gleaming yellow sides of the boat, and he grabbed the metal rail near the curved plastic windshield to stabilize his unsteady strides. 55


"Twist the towing line in the back into the grappling hook and tie both ropes together. You can do a sailor's knot?" He nodded. "Get going on it, and then throw it to him. Hurry, we don't have much time." They worked in unison, Tee giving cryptic, concise instructions while he relayed them to the caretaker. It took neck-bunching minutes before they secured the two ships together, and Tee edged the engine's speed up a notch at a time as the trawler swung away from the rocks and followed in their wake. The cruiser drew a semicircle in the rough waters, a wave trough dipped the boat, and he stumbled. Regaining his balance as they completed the U-turn, out of the corner of one eye, Jake caught the caretaker's gaze, and he recoiled at the blaze of seething rancor the man barely kept in check. Not fifteen feet separated the two vessels, and the flash of insolent malice from the caretaker couldn't be mistaken. The man had it in for him for some reason, or maybe for Tee. He followed the caretaker's gaze. Since they stood parallel to each other, it could be either of them. Jake filed the observation for further analysis. They conducted the twenty-minute ride back to the yacht club in complete silence. Hostility radiated with Tee's every abrupt movement, and distracted by her sullen mood, Jake focused on regaining lost momentum, making up with her. Uncertain, unconvinced she and the caretaker didn't have some sort of connection, he had to admit one salient, 56


intractable fact; she'd been a virgin scant minutes ago, so they couldn't be involved physically. Jesus, thinking about Tee's reactions to his lovemaking had him hard from inhale to exhale, one breath, one second. In his fantasies, they made slow, luxurious love, and he brought her to the point over and over until she begged, pleaded for release. He snorted. She'd climaxed upon penetration, mewling, "Oh my," but the words echoed around the bay, and he'd lost control. By the time a huge trailer dragged the caretaker's boat onto dry land, his tension matched Tee's collected anger, and not a single brilliant resolution to their impasse came to mind. "I need to get back to the Main House," she said, marching through the club's opening glass doors. "I'll call a cab. I'm sure you have business matters to deal with." Tee disappeared past wooden doors with the words Ladies' Lockers carved into them. He followed her in. At the far right end of the locker room, three women in various stages of undress emitted a sequence of shrieks, gasps, and squeals. A swift survey to the left showed a low bench opposite shower curtains and farther down a series of gleaming metal toilet stalls. Jake propped one foot on a burnished wooden bench away from the women's direction, giving the three females his back and the privacy to finish dressing. "Excuse me, ladies, I'm waiting for someone. Won't be a minute." 57


"It'll be a cold day in hell, Jake Mathews." The terse mutter came from a stall two doors down, and he spied Tee's strappy white sandals. She had pretty feet and wore red, really red, paint on her toenails. The impudent color had him hard again, and for brief seconds he thought it might be a fun way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon, painting those toes. From limp to full arousal in less than ten seconds, hell, she'd bewitched him. "Then I might as well get comfortable." He turned to face the now-dressed fascinated women at the other end of the sumptuous room. "Would you three ladies mind if I relocated that chair to this end?" In mute, bewildered unison, they shook their heads and followed his movements as he grasped the padded arm of a gold upholstered chair, lifted it over his head, walked to the corner opposite Tee's stall, and set it down. He slouched into the luxurious fabric and crossed his long legs at the ankles, mulling various strategies. "By the way, I have your mother's crystal things. When did you say she needed them by?" A muffled curse spewed out from the stall. "I'm positive part of finishing school training eschews swearing of any sort." Delicate laughter erupted from the three ladies who had all edged closer, wearing beaming smiles. Another expletive, this one clearer. "Come on out, darlin'," one of the old biddies coaxed. "He can't have done anything so unforgivable." 58


"Dearie, if I had a handsome young man like this waiting to say sorry and make up, I'd give in—soon." The blue-haired woman flashed Jake a flirty smile, and he sent her a corresponding conspiratorial one. All three women wore cheeky expressions and, as one unit, they edged closer, sandaled feet shuffling over the marble floor. "And he does seem so apologetic. What's your name, sweetie?" "Jake Mathews, ma'am, and you are?" The toilet door slammed open, and Tee grabbed his arm and swept in front of him. "I'm so sorry. I had completely forgotten the Trinidadian Crochet Club meets here on Mondays. We'll get out of your way." Tee pulled Jake to the far door, and he glanced over his shoulder and blew a kiss to his army of three. "I could kill you for that," Tee grumbled as she headed out of the club, those long sexy legs of hers taking wide strides. In seconds they were at the area where he'd parked the car. "I'll drop you off to the Main House," he offered. "Have dinner with me tonight. We need to talk, Tee. I didn't use a condom." Jake winced at the deliberate deception inherent in those words, but in this battle any tactic courting victory came into play. She paled, and then a delicious hue matching the delicate rose petals swirling in the warm tropical breeze suffused her tawny skin. Tee always smelled flowery, and until recently he'd not been able to pin down the scent. Pretty pink roses with yellow 59


centers bordered the circular driveway of her parents' home, and he'd kissed her in front of them on the graveled path on his last visit. Passing a florist's display two days later, he hardened the minute the scent hit him. Doomed to erection from the smell of roses, his prick thickened. Blast, not now. He concentrated on reading her expression. Rioting emotions flashed in her eyes, and she bit her lower lip and frowned at the car's glossy black door. "Hell," he muttered and tugged her into his arms and took possession of her mouth, sweeping his tongue along the taut seam of her lips in persuasion. Her sigh, scented minty and hot, warmed the rapacious cavern of his mouth, and she let him in. An insolent conqueror's bravado drove him to cup her bottom and rub his erection against her pelvis. A drugging desire so potent, so caveman prehistoric wracked him, and he could've taken her right there and then in the club's crowded parking lot had not a chorus of delighted giggles and raucous hoots and hollers penetrated his brain. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to ease out of her sweet mouth. He leaned his forehead on hers and brushed the corner of one eyebrow with his lips. "Damn," she whispered, her voice shaky and gruff. "My mother will hear about this before I get home." Jake knew her mother, Tricia, didn't approve of him and viewed him a social inferior, a self-made millionaire too coarse about the edges for her elegant daughter. Early in the game, her mother'd recognized his lust for Tee, and she'd 60


taken every opportunity to shipwreck his blatant pursuit of her only child after Tony's death. Tee shrugged out of his embrace and opened the car door. He couldn't decipher her intentions, but determinedly walked around the vehicle and got into the driver's seat. The snapping of their seat belts rang like an obscene bell in the strident silence, and the grating quiet widened like a Florida sinkhole during the interminable ride to her parents' house. His obsession with Tee had been immediate and overpowering. Always known as the man with the Midas touch, his luck drained away the minute Tony Trent introduced his new wife, Tallulah. Jake zoomed into her amber-haloed eyes and the powerful vision of a little girl with her features and black curls dancing in the sand played in his brain. The image had shocked the beejesus out of him and he had caught the next flight out of Trinidad and buried himself in work. Long a loner, Jake had no intention of ever marrying or having a family. Determined to eradicate his lust for his partner's wife and life, he worked hundred hour weeks, screwed one nameless woman after another, and drank his way through several expensive single malt whisky bottles. Nothing made any difference. Every night Tee and the laughing child haunted his dreams and Jake began to question his own sanity. Since adolescence, he'd had visions; that déjà vu feeling others talked about, he experienced in spurts, except he knew ahead of time what would happen, and that foreknowledge paved the way for the successful day trading that started his career. 61


With a start, Jake realized they had reached the Inglefield's home. Henry, Tee's father, stood in the driveway, and he smiled and waved as Jake yanked the hand brake on the rental car. "Dinner?" he asked and glanced at her pensive profile. "I have to attend the Bastille Day thing," she said, and in one fluid movement, slammed the car door open and swung out of the vehicle. Not willing to accept any refusal, he followed her up the pebbled path. Waning afternoon sunlight cast their elongated shadows to one side. A border of pink roses danced in a gentle breeze, wafting their aroma around Tee and distracting him for a moment. His blasted prick strained against the denim shorts, and he managed to un-tuck his loose shirt so it concealed his reaction. "Jake, good to see you again," Henry greeted him. "How long are you in town?" "Two days, but that might be extended," he replied and shook her father's outstretched hand. "Because of the break-in at the office, I presume. One of the inspectors called me—this news about my former son-inlaw is very disturbing. Let's discuss the matter over a drink in my study." Henry kissed his daughter's cheek. "Honey, let your mother know Jake will stay with us until this issue is settled. With Tony's office off-limits, you'll need a place to work, m'boy, and Greenbriar is Wi-Fi and will give you ample privacy." "I'll take you up on that offer." 62


"Good, good. Tee, I tried to get Tony's vehicle out of impoundment, but it's a no go. Where've you two been anyway? Tricia's called me three times looking for you, honey. Something about hibiscuses?" "No worries, Dad. What Mother wanted is in the car. You two go on ahead. I'll slip back and get it." The two men followed her lithe movements, one man driven by lust, the other, a father's instinctive protectiveness, Absentminded in his personal life, Henry Inglefield's legendary business expertise and unrelenting drive for success rivaled Jake's. The two men held each other in mutual approval and respect. Possessing not a shard of his wife's snobbery, Henry had been the one to suggest his daughter assist Jake in unsnarling the mess Tony left behind. The man seemed to throw them together at every opportunity, and this invitation to stay at Greenbriar caused Jake to wince inwardly. While he had every intention of screwing Henry's daughter as often as she'd let him, neither marriage nor a serious relationship entered into the picture. He'd hate to lose Henry's respect, but that didn't deter him for a second, not since the primitive craving to be inside Tee had become his sole focus. Five minutes later, ensconced in buttery, cavernous chocolate chairs and nursing fifteen-year single malt whisky, Jake listened to Henry's summary of the police investigation into the break-in. He made the appropriate noises about cooperating with the authorities and delved into the business reason behind his visit. 63


"As you know, I've been trying to decide what to do with the Trinidad operation," Jake said and took a good slug of liquor. "There's no diplomatic way to put this, Henry, but our offshore bank account in Antigua, the one Tony opened, was cleaned out a week after his death. The SEC is scrutinizing Trent and Mathews' books, and I suspect the media will be sniffing around. If Tony was involved with drugs as the police implied this morning, I don't know what the recriminations will be for you and your family." The older man's freckled complexion darkened, and he coughed. "A refill is in order, I believe." "Don't get up. I'll get the decanter." Jake stood, and the soft leather sighed, relieved of his weight. He'd sifted his options on the plane and decided against sharing his suspicions with Tee's father until he had more evidence. Pouring the golden liquid into Henry's crystal tumbler, he reversed his decision. "What was your opinion of your son-in-law?" Shadows crept across the wine colored Persian rug as Jake settled back into the chair. Straightlaced, but diplomatic to the core, the older man shook his head and grimaced. "This must remain in strict confidence, m'boy. As you know, my daughter is somewhat reclusive, and both her mother and I worried about her obsession with the Olympics." He steepled his long fingers together. "I hired Tony because he'd won two gold medals. He did a good job training her, but when Tee failed to earn a spot on the UK team, she grew despondent." "And Tony stepped in?" 64


"Tricia encouraged a relationship between the two of them. Now I look back on things, I'm convinced Tee simply went along with her mother's wishes. You should have gathered from my comments since Tony's death, all was not well between my daughter and her husband. Trinidadian society is incestuous, and it wasn't long after they were married I first began hearing the rumors of his affairs." Her parents didn't know the marriage hadn't been consummated, Jake realized, and the suspicious bent in his nature went on amber alert. "She didn't bat an eye when the fatal accident occurred. Never shed a tear, not that we know of anyway. But Tee's normally reticent, and she and my wife are not close. The long and short of it is, Tony Trent hurt my daughter, and I harbor not a single positive thought about the sodding bastard." Stunned by the inherent dislike cording Henry's perfect diction, Jake tossed back his drink and went for the gusto. "Then you should know I hired a security firm to investigate him thoroughly. I suspect the Antigua account is the tip of the iceberg." He gritted his teeth. "The principal reason I went into partnership with Tony was because of the capital infusion he brought to the table. While the business has always been profitable, cash flow at the time he appeared on the scene was crucial. Not that it matters anymore. You should know, though, as soon as I can, I'm shutting down Trinidad. I can't risk the bad press that's bound to occur now." 65


"Ah, I was afraid of this. I've admired the way you've dealt with everything after Tony's boat exploded. This may prove too intrusive, but I am particularly grateful for your gentle handling of my girl." Jake didn't believe in guilt, didn't acknowledge the emotion even existed, not for him. It booby-trapped success. For the first time in months, he hesitated, as the unfamiliar emotion sent his stomach into a nosedive. The study door opened with a sharp thud, offering a small reprieve. Tricia Inglefield marched into the room, shoulders squared in disapproval, and her azure eyes ripped a shot of sheer scorn at him. "Jake," she said and inclined a regal nod in his general direction. Her clipped, prune-in-the-mouth English accent irritated every inch of his skin, and he fought the urge to straighten his shirt collar. "Henry, our guests will be arriving in less than half an hour." Blast, the woman could scold without raising her voice, and he wondered if she'd ever hugged her daughter, ever laughed with her, and how a man like Henry could live with such a cold, unfeeling female. It reinforced every conviction that the institution of marriage was a doomed one and not for him. "Jake, you'll be joining us, of course, since Henry's seen fit to invite you to stay at Greenbriar. I presume you'll need to freshen up, and the affair is jacket and tie." 66


His hackles rose, and a reflexive belligerence set in, and Jake suggested in a rough, insolent drawl, "Perhaps Tee can show me the way to the cottage?" "Tallulah is quite busy assisting with the preparations. I'll have a servant lead you there." No one used such a politically incorrect word anymore, and he recognized Tricia's hit with reluctant admiration, her clarification of his plebian social status as clear as an uncluttered tropical horizon and given as a warning. "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 67


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 68


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. 69


"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." 70


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." 71


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72


Unpredictable Harbor "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?" 73


"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." 74


"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." Ruby liquid filled the crystal glass and fruity Beaujolais perfumed the intimate room. "Why not stay here at the plantation house?" One ash eyebrow rose. "We haven't had a girls' night in a long while." "I need some alone time." Tee deferred and added, "I've been avoiding everything—Tony, my disastrous marriage, my 75


mother. My life's not a pretty picture—the past, the present, and the future. You know, a year ago I had everything going for me." Dee abandoned her drink and swept across the room. She sat next to Tee and squeezed both arms around her. "Shush, cupcake, you do have everything going for you. You're a beautiful, strong woman. It'll all work out." "I never wanted the big career like you did." Her eyes misted. "All I ever wanted was to make it to the Olympics." "I hate your dead spouse. What a frigging snake. I'm convinced he sabotaged your tryouts so you'd come apart and fall into his arms." Fury lit Dee's gray eyes, and Tee recognized the brief, intent expression crossing her face. "You know something." She scrutinized her best friend's composed, neutral features. "What've you done?" Astonishment ripped Dee's features. "What makes you think I've done anything?" "Your poker face. That fake look of surprise." "We know each other too well." Dee's lips quirked upwards, and she let out an audible sigh. "Let's just say I've instigated a behind-the-scenes investigation into that very convenient death of the snake." "Damn, that's all I need. If Tricia gets wind of that—hell Dee, I don't even want to think about her reaction." "She won't, I promise." "My headache's coming back. I think it's time to run that bath." 76


"I'll ring for the car." Dee checked her wristwatch. "Just as well anyway, it's after seven, and I have a ton of work left." "I'll stop by tomorrow for dinner. Bye, DeeDee." She hugged her friend's petite form and kissed her cheek. "Thanks for being there." In quick order, Tee settled into the luxurious comfort of the Bloom's Bentley. The car grated over the graveled path to the Harbor Lodge. The drive took ten minutes. Night descended halfway there, falling in mere seconds the way a dropped shroud obliterates the features of the newly dead. The darkness was absolute, not a single light glowed. She checked her watch, almost eight, and stared at the vehicle's receding taillights for a few seconds. Opening the door to the cottage, she entered the living room and bumped into a small round table. Tee looked down. Two conch shells held a note in place. She picked up the slip of paper and read it on her way into the bedroom. A perfumed bath awaits you. Dinner's in the oven. The alarm will chime when it's ready. Table's already laid. An Edmeades Zinfandel is breathing on the counter. Tee smiled, touched by Dee's thoughtfulness. Within minutes, she lay in an enormous, old-fashioned footed bathtub. The flames from dozens of ivory candles sprinkled on the ledge above gave off a dreamy, hazy light. Rose petals and thin needles of lavender floated around her chest, perfuming the small room. She closed her eyes, inhaled, sighed contentedly, and slipped her shoulders under the warm water. 77


Persistent beeping jerked Tee out of a light doze. The oven, the food must be ready. She stood, grabbed one of the plush emerald bath sheets, and toweled off. Clean jeans and a tank top lay on the beige bedspread. She pulled the pants on and slipped the cotton top over her hair as she rushed out the bedroom door. For a minute, the Bounce-scented fabric covered her face. Tee pulled her head through the neck of the stretchy, turquoise material and stopped in mid-action. Jake Mathews lounged against the fireplace, one shoulder braced against the mantel, bare feet crossed at the ankles, and arms folded over his chest. His eyes flashed black fire, the small gold hoop in his left ear glistened through the darkness of his damp, blue-black curls. Jake wore a white T-shirt that strained against his broad, muscular chest. Low-slung, faded blue jeans molded his narrow hips and powerful thighs, and the bulge at his crotch was unmistakable. He looked like one of the Devil's disciples. The thought chased a peculiar hollowness through her belly, and she licked the corner of her mouth. "I'm not leaving until you answer my questions," he growled. Sweeping a Baccarat wine glass filled with burgundy liquid from the low coffee table, he offered it to her. She straightened her tank top, crossed both arms, and scowled at him. "I'm not going to answer any of your questions." He set the glass on a cluttered sideboard. "Perhaps I should rephrase that. I'm not leaving until we've talked. You owe me an explanation." 78


She winced; starter-gun guilt splotched her cheeks. The surprise confrontation stretched already wobbly emotions to a straight seesaw plank. "Fine. Talk." His long legs ate up the space between them, and he dragged her against him, edge to edge. Every taut muscle melted into a shivering anticipation, and when he bent his head and dove into an open-mouthed plundering, she surrendered, returning his actions with a bemused, rapacious need. The aroma of rich, oven-warm chocolate heralded her dazed witchy reactions, and she pushed away from his chest, panicked and confused. "Don't," he murmured, and a firm arm caught her to him. A swift survey of the Lodge's evening-cum-dining room showed not a single cupcake, but three-inch deep rose petals littered the carpet in a frothy foam of pink. Tee stifled a groan and concentrated on making them disappear. He couldn't kiss her again, not for a second. She shrugged away from him. "How did you know where I was?" Retreating to the coral fireplace, she relaxed a tich when the physical distance between them widened. "Does it matter? I'm here, and we have matters to settle." "The condom thing?" He advanced, and a smoky, erotic aroma seemed to embrace him. It did odd things to her mind, suspending rational thought. His mugged grimace helped to arrest the sudden descent into adolescent-crush capitulation. "That, plus other issues." 79


She splayed a hand in a feeble effort to prevent him touching her again. "Talk, you said talk. You sit over there," she said, pointing to the sofa. A wide age-marked oak table separated the couch from a loveseat. "I'll sit here." "No." "Pardon me?" Years of Tricia's training kicked in, and she froze in astonishment at his rudeness. "No." He stalked across the two-foot distance, anger-tinged features drawn tight, and cradled her face between hot palms. She tingled from head to toe. "It seems the only time we're in harmony is when I'm making love to you." His right thumb drew a gentle caress on her cheek, the touch so slight, so delicious she couldn't resist leaning into it. "So, we're making love first, and then we'll talk." Flustered and panicky, determined to control her powers, she hissed, "Don't kiss me." "Huh?" His dark eyebrows did an uphill drive, and three deep lines etched the bronzed skin on his forehead. "I'm fine for the making love, but you can't kiss me." "I'm good enough to screw, but not upper class enough to kiss?" His hands fell away, his movements taut with barely controlled fury, and the momentary flare of grim acknowledgment in those sable pools lanced a sword into her heart. 80


"No, no. Damn, I didn't mean it that way." Her trembling hands flew to his chest and she waited, hoping he wouldn't reject her conciliatory words. "I can't think when you kiss me, and there's all this tension, and..." It wasn't a frog clogging her throat, it was a damned alligator, and for the life of her, she couldn't get another word out. It seemed he didn'tcare one way or the other. "Good," he said, his voice gruff and low, and he kissed her, a brief, hard contact. Her mind whirled, and she yielded as he pulled away and led her to an emerald sofa dappled with delicate pink rose petals. Heat washed across her cheeks, Tee shuffled the cushions so they concealed the flowers, and glanced at Jake, who wasn't looking in her direction. When he left to retrieve the wine, Tee covered her face with her hands and willed everything away. "I swear every room you're in smells of roses." She cringed and tried to hide the reaction by pasting a smile on her face. He dropped onto the now-clean upholstered furniture, deposited two wine glasses and the bottle on the table, and draped an arm across her shoulders, tugging her against him. "Okay, Tallulah Inglefield, we need to talk, and while all I want to do is be inside of you, we'll settle matters first." He dropped a kiss on her forehead and lifted his warm arm away, leaving her bereft for a few moments. "Why did you leave Trinidad?" She'd anticipated the question and had a ready reply. "I didn't want you to think you owed me anything. And 81


afterwards, you seemed angry. I figured we both needed some time and space." "Delaying tactics, Tee. You don't want to explain why you were a widowed virgin, am I wrong?" He sipped his wine. "Yes and no. I didn't want to talk about it, but I also wanted to give you an out." Embarrassment had her in a vice grip. "Truly." Taking her hand in his, he flattened out the palm, traced its circumference, and kissed the center, a wet, slow kiss. "For the record, I don't want out, and if I did, I wouldn't need your permission." "Are you still angry?" Something about her hand seemed to fascinate him. "Again, for the record, I wasn't angry. I was shocked." His black eyes glinted with puzzlement and his full lips pursed. "I would've taken care not to hurt you if I'd known. There are ways to make it easier the first time." "Jake, I don't want to talk about it anymore." "Okay, we'll table the topic, for now. That still doesn't explain why you left." "And you still seem angry." "More pissed than angry. You left me to sit through a seven-course meal surrounded by two of your mother's friends, who made the Spanish Inquisition seem like a pleasant soirée. They put me through the wringer. Ah hell, Tee. You could've told me where you were going, a note, a voice mail. Why didn't you?" "You know the fight or flight reaction?" He nodded. 82


"I'm a big coward. I ran." "Why?" She suppressed a sigh and wondered if perhaps Dee wasn't right. She should be honest. "It's complicated." "Okay, you don't plan on answering that one either, do you?" His thigh muscles did a wave-like motion under the tight denims, and the bulge at his crotch grew, stretching the fabric. "Tee," he said and jiggled her hand. "Are you going to be in a lot of trouble because of Tony?" She stuck out her chin and met his glance without flinching. "I overheard you and Dad in the study. Were you going to tell me about it?" He twined their fingers together and met her gaze headon. "A week after Tony's death, two million dollars disappeared out of an offshore account he opened in Antigua." His intent scrutiny and the bald words prompted her to shift, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "You think I stole your money?" Even uttering the words chilled her to the core, and she braced for his response. "It wasn't my cash. It was your husband's. I'm almost positive he was laundering money." "And you think I'm involved?" She gritted her teeth. He edged down the sofa, the widening distance reflective of their conversation. "Why were you a virgin?" "I think I want you to leave," she said and swallowed. 83


"No, babe, no way. For the record, I don't believe you capable of any criminal activity." "Thanks heaps. Tony didn't want me. He said I was repulsive." "Huh? He actually said that?" The surprise in his voice couldn't be faked, and a bit of bravado squared her shoulders. "He said a lot more, believe me." "Jesus. What a complete bastard." Jake grabbed her hand and spread her palm over his groin, outlining his erection. "You couldn't be repulsive if you tried. This is what you do to me. I've had a constant hard-on from the moment I met you." He curved her thumb around the thick head of his penis. "Why on earth did you marry him?" "It happened much the way I told you—I sort of fell into it. Dee, my friend, thinks Tony sabotaged my tryouts so he could bulldoze me into marrying him." Damn, the impulse to slip her hand inside of his pants had her palm sparking with electricity. A flurry of rose petals swirled in a happy dance behind Jake's head, and she snatched her hand away in panic. Damn, damn. "You're blushing," he murmured, and in a second, no gap separated them. "You turn pink, and I'm hard. Jesus, Tee, I don't think I can wait much longer. Babe?" His lips feathered kisses down her cheek, and he settled into the curve of her neck, licking and teasing. "I haven't even tasted you yet, and I've been dreaming of that for months. Let's go to bed, babe, and we can talk all you want afterwards." 84


She closed her eyes and savored the feel of Jake's warm hands lifting the soft cotton fabric of her tank top. He left soft moist kisses as he bared her skin and her toes curled into the soft carpet. Through hooded eyes, she watched his pupils dilate as one fingertip traced the outline of her breast. "Jesus, you're perfect," he said, his breath fanning her chest and pebbling her nipples into throbbing points. His mouth found a peak, and the hard tugging of his tongue flamed away her thoughts. He shifted and positioned her prone on the sofa, undoing the button of her jeans, and the metal zipper separated under the swift action. He slipped his finger between her thighs, stroking her moist folds, while his lips trailed across her chest and latched onto an aching breast, covering the whole mound in an avaricious laving. "Oh my," she groaned. "You screamed that on the raft," he growled. "I'm going to make you scream it again tonight." "Oh yes," she agreed as his thumb grazed a circle around her nubbin. "Oh my." "This is nuts." He stretched her out and grabbed the waistband of her jeans. She arched in helpful approval, and the pants came off in rapid time. "Take off your top," he ordered and stripped right there and then, his cock hard and jutting straight up, purpled at the head.

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Too bemused to comply, she stared at him, licking her lips and leaning on her elbows, naked from the waist down, her turquoise T-shirt rolled up above her electrified nipples. "Too late," he muttered and lowered on top of her, settling that rigid prick at her center, and setting his mouth to her left breast. He plunged inside her and sawed her nipple between his teeth. The simultaneous stimulation sent her into wrenching clenches. She exploded, and a vague awareness of his erotic approval, his low, rumbled comments ignited a raging inferno. "Jesus, babe. We have to slow down." He gripped her hips and nipped at her bottom lip. "Steady, Tee." Raising her arms over her head, he clamped one hand around both wrists and let his weight pin her wriggles to a standstill. Undeterred, she lifted her hips and moaned when his length rubbed too low. Managing to free one leg, she hooked it around his waist and sighed when her elevated position flattened her folds on his pelvis. "Oh yes," she whispered. "Oh my, oh my." Jake bit her shoulder, let go of her wrists, and ordered, "Both legs. Now." He grunted when Tee complied, and she slipped her arms around him, raking his back with her nails, instinctively scooping her pelvis, and the friction tripled in intensity, hurdling ingrained reserve, unleashing her wild, tempestuous passion. She captured his right nipple and explored, licking it, and smiled at his harsh gasp. "Bite, babe, bite." His groaned plea pooled wetness between her thighs, and she complied, grazing the taut point 86


lightly, uncertain how much pressure to apply. His hot palm cradled her head, and he urged her closer. Mares nipped their stallions during the moment of penetration, and the image burned her pupils, insecurity vanished, and she sank her teeth down. "Jesus, I'm done for." Taking possession of her mouth, he slowed the pace of his thrusts, and she wanted to scream in frustration, but his tongue tangled with hers, sliding in and out, matching the cadence of his plundering. She cupped his ass, relishing the feel of his hard roundness, insisting on more, faster, harder. In a final concession, his pillaging reached deeper, tongue and cock penetrating inner recesses, finding hidden pleasure spots. Tee surged upwards, and his fierce plunge hit a sweet point that sent her over a cliff, sparking like a broken electrical wire, and she collapsed, curling her arms around him, scraping fingernails over tense muscles. She felt rather than heard his muffled words as his mouth nuzzled the crook of her neck. "Hmmm?" It was all she could manage. "I said I'll make up for this quickie next time." "This isn't good?" Heavens, sex proved addictive, and her lips curved as she noted the promise of the next time. "Hell, it was great. Just not long enough. I want to taste you, babe, lick you from head to toe. Have you wrap those long, sexy legs around my head." He rose on his forearms, and those dark eyes sparkled with devilish intent. Tee melted when he grinned, the cocky 87


boyishness lighting his features, coating warmth across her chest. Lines formed on his forehead, he sniffed and then asked, "Do I smell chocolate?" Damn, damn, damn. She glanced over his bare shoulders and sure enough, miniature cupcakes filled every empty space on the sideboard. This would never work. She had to distract him until she'd cleaned up the evidence of her damned unreliable witchy powers. Latching on to the first clear thought that hit her brain, she blurted, "Dee said I should ask about your sexual history. And what about the condom thing?" That stoic expression she disliked curtained his features, and he slipped out of her, avoiding her gaze. When Jake bent to retrieve his clothes, Tee scanned the room, sent the cakes and the rose petals into purgatory, and shoved her T-shirt into place. He handed her the discarded jeans, she slipped them on, and a sudden unease wrenched a distanced tension between them. "That was completely irresponsible on my part." He picked up the wine bottle and refilled their glasses. "I can get the morning-after pill couriered here tomorrow. It works within a three-day span." "Why do you sound angry?" "I'm annoyed with myself, not with you, about the obvious repercussions." "A baby," she said and wondered if her progeny would inherit her powers. 88


"I don't want children," he said in a clipped, terse tone. "A family is not part of my plan." "Bully for you," Tee retorted. "Then you should have used a condom, and I'm not taking any morning-after pill." "I won't marry you because of a child." Temper flared sweet and hot. She shot to her feet, hands balled. "The last thing I want after Tony is to get married. To any man. And no one's making any decisions for me, not anymore. And now, I think you can leave." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Gladiators, Vikings & Cowboy Acrobatics "So I was right before. I'm good enough to screw but not to marry?" As soon as Jake barked out the question, he regretted it. "You know, I always thought you a logical man, but over the last two days you've blown hot and cold like there's no tomorrow. You just said you didn't want to get married, and I agreed with you. What is your problem?" Her harsh emphasis on the word is escalated a rising irritation. Frustration and discontent laced his veins, and he couldn't pinpoint the source of a sense of betrayal. "I said I didn't want a family." She plopped onto the couch and cupped her hands over her face. "I don't think this is going to work." Lamplight dusted the room with a golden hue and set Tee's complexion glowing like Tinker Bell's fairy dust. He shook his head and slumped onto the sofa so that their hips touched. "What?" "Whatever this is between us," she mumbled. He snagged his arms under her knees, hauled her into his lap, and leaned his forehead against hers. Tipping her chin up, Jake commanded, "Look at me, Tee." A wary skittishness chased those honey-colored eyes. The urge to have them glisten with longing for him tornadoed his brain, and he fought for control. "I'll use a condom from now 90


on, and we'll deal with any issues from the last two times if they arise. Can we agree on that?" "Yes." "I can't leave it alone, this thing between us. And I won't settle for making love to you only two times. Do you want to be with me again?" She looked away, and his lungs stopped functioning. A concrete drill rattled Jake's chest, and the seconds lengthened into hell's eternity. "Yes." The barest of whispers, but it sheathed something bleak and despairing in him, renting the darkness away for a little longer. Flickering flames in the fireplace to their right warmed the surprising chill of the tropical evening air and cast her profile into soft shadows. "But, not in the Caribbean, and my parents can't know, um, about us." The telltale flick of her pink tongue contained his rising anger. Turning her chin with his forefinger so their gazes met, he asked, "Why?" "Dad likes you, Jake, and if he knew, um, about the sex, he'd probably kill you. And as for Tricia, let's just say I have enough problems with my mother. I don't need to add to them." Her conditions jangled emotions long buried, and a craving to flaunt their relationship under Tricia's snooty nose waged battle with her rational explanation. Even her hair smelled of roses. Jake buried his nose in her silky curls and inhaled, and the rubber band around his chest split apart. 91


"Meet me in London. I have to go anyway to deal with this property I've inherited." "I, um, Jake, weren't you raised in an orphanage?" Her tawny skin colored a delectable hue, and she ducked her chin. Embarrassed a tad, he gave her a succinct accounting of his recent discovery, and her reaction puzzled him. She beamed. "I can't wait to tell my mother. Oooh, this will kill her. I'm so happy for you." For the first time, she took the lead in their relationship, cradling his face in her warm palms and kissing him. A chaste, closed-lip brushing. Every humiliation about his origins flushed away with the sweet caress. Stay with me, he thought, and pictured her in the new waterfront mansion he purchased a month ago. Vulnerability swamped him, and Jake buried the notion. "Can you get away for two weeks?" Her brown eyebrows lifted. "Two weeks?" "You're right, let's make it three," he amended, swiftly analyzing options to extend the time. "I thought you'd, um..." She shook her head. "I expected maybe three days. I can't do it. I mean, I'll barely manage three days. Three weeks is impossible." Jerking off his lap, Tee stood, and the horrified expression dominating her elegant features ripped at his gut. The aroma of rich, dark chocolate fissured his seduction-bent thoughts and rattled his concentration. He frowned, shook his head, and re-focused. "How about you staying here for a couple of days instead?" 92


"I can definitely do that, but if you think that's going to satisfy either of us, you're dead wrong. Why does that chocolate smell come and go?" He didn't know there were so many shades of pink, but her cheeks stained a deep rose, and her dark eyelashes did a sweet, rapid flutter. Pure feminine bewitchment, his lungs stuttered. "Dee left a note saying dinner was in the oven, and the timer went off ages ago. It's probably that. Why don't you unpack and have a shower while I'll get the food on the table?" A shower. He went hard. "Dinner can wait, babe. Let's shower together." An anticipatory grin claimed his mouth as he stood, snagged her palm, and tugged her in the direction of the bedroom. The giant mahogany bed drew him like a magnet, and the tangy scent of salty ocean air seeped into the cottage through open French doors. He nuzzled the fascinating curve of her nape, and lavender and rose tickled his nose as Jake drew in a deep breath and grew drunk on her scent, and closed his eyes. He nudged her against the frame of the bed. They fell into a spooning position on the soft mattress, and Jake wrapped her in his arms. Trailing burning lips across her collarbone to her jawline, he flicked his tongue up to her ear, and nibbled on the lobe. Her bottom arced into his pelvis. His arousal thickened. Lust, passion, and desire conquered anything nearing lucidity. He nipped his way to her mouth and slanted his lips over hers. She opened for him. Jake 93


sighed into her mouth. He speared his tongue inside and drank hungrily, tasting every luscious crevice, drowning in her sugary, hot flavor. A balmy breeze wrapped around their bodies, enfolding them in a world of their own. She touched her tongue to his in a tentative exploration. It detonated his passion. Clothes flew left and right, both of them pulling and yanking in frenzied urgency, until they were skin to skin. "You drive me crazy." He bit her shoulder, rolled Tee onto her back, and covered her body with his. "I can't wait." His hands kneaded and caressed, fingers exploring the underside of her breasts. He tugged at her nipples and rolled them between his fingers. "Oh my," she mewled. He took her mouth in a deep, soul-destroying kiss, their tongues dueling in a scorching, feverish mating. Hard, icy-cold, slippery objects pounded his naked back. Jake's eyes flew open. Lightning crackled, and a white-hot bolt landed to his right. Flames erupted, whooshing across the dry grass. Still fused at the lips, he froze as Tee's eyelids snapped upwards, the look of horror on her face mirrored in her dilated pupils. She tore her mouth away from his and beat her fists against his bare chest. "Damn, damn," she wailed. "What have I done?" "What?" His dazed senses failed him. "Oh no." She clamped a hand over her mouth and pointed a finger over his left shoulder. 94


"What?" he repeated. "G-g-gladiators," she stammered, "hundreds of Roman gladiators." Jake's head snapped around. Pain pierced the vertebra at the base of his neck, slicing node by node, all the way down his spine. Gladiators. He blinked. Half a mile away, six columns of men dressed in full gladiator regalia marched in precisely orchestrated patterns. Their stomping threw up a cloud of dust about three feet high. The spikes on their metal helmets glistened in the watery morning sunlight, forming a long flickering silver ribbon, which danced against the emerald leaves of a thick forest. "Kiss me quickly," Tee squawked. She tugged his head down. "Come on, we have to get out of here." "What?" Jake pushed away from her and onto his elbows. He swiveled automatically to the soldiers. They were still there. Now, mounted men with shields joined them, forming a rear flank. Four outriders trotted in their direction. "Oh God, they're heading straight for us." Tee stuck her fingers in his hair and pulled him back down. She mimicked his actions of a few minutes earlier, slanting her lips over his, and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Her sweetness dizzied him for a moment. He remembered the gladiators, tore his lips away, and rolled over. She held onto his waist and ended up on top of him, sliding down his wet, slippery skin. He couldn't take his eyes off the fierce wild 95


men galloping towards them, spears pointed directly at their bodies. "What the—," he muttered, and all of his thought processes stopped dead. He looked down. Her mouth covered the head of his prick. The light, tentative sucking fried his brain, and his lungs burned. "Jesus, Tee." She glided up and kissed him. Her hands tightened around his shaft as she slithered and strained to reach his lips. Her tongue waltzed a cautious journey of discovery in his mouth, an unbearable butterfly caress. Her grasp loosened, and her lithe fingertips fluttered over the top of his penis. Jake caught her hand and held it there. He broke the kiss. "Hold that thought. We have stuff to deal with." He rolled over again, shifting onto his forearms as he did so. "What?" She had a dreamy expression on her face. The gladiators had vanished. No longer could he smell manure and the sky had morphed into a timbered roof. Jake shook his head. Something hot connected with his back. He craned his neck and the blazing fire in the shale fireplace danced and spat embers up the flue. He felt like the little girl in The Exorcist. His stomach rolled over. Jake squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, one at a time. He twisted back to Tee, his eyes zipping around the room. They were in Harbor Lodge. "Tee," he roared. "What the hell just happened?" 96


Their mud-streaked, nude bodies presented a macabre contrast with the white sheepskin rug before the fireplace. Cakes of brown dirt fell onto the snowy fur, incongruous in such a tropical setting. Two brittle dried leaves fluttered to the decorative carpet. "Tee." His bellow echoed in the tiny living room. "Gladiators, gladiators, explain." His brain threatened spontaneous combustion—hail, spears, gladiators. He glared at her and shoved her off him. Her face turned ashen. She grabbed a chenille throw from the chair and wrapped it around her body. "Here." She held out a blue cotton blanket. He heaved it back at her. "I don't want it. Where the hell did that come from? Who are you? What are you?" Tee flinched, and the color drained from her face. She averted her eyes, stood up in one lissome, elegant motion, and faced the fireplace. "I'm a witch. I understand if it repulses you. It did Tony." Her voice sounded like a musical tinkle. The whisper-soft words exploded in his brain. Jake saw red. For a brief moment, he wondered if she had a history of mental instability. He needed explanations. Now. "What the hell are you talking about?" He blinked. Tee was no longer on the rug, but huddled in the chair by the fireplace. She shrank against the upholstery, her back to him with the brown material wrapped around her body, and buried her face in the cloth-covered furniture. 97


"I was mad to even think I could do this." Her muffled voice held an edge of desperation. Dozens of tiny, rich brown cakes peppered the coffee table, more appearing as he stared in absolute disbelief. The tempting aroma of hot chocolate filled the room. "Where are the little cakes coming from?" Each uttered word raised his fear level to new heights. "If you stop yelling, I can make them disappear." Her shoulders slumped, and despair wracked Tee's face. "Are they real?" "Oh yes." "They look like the ones from Eight Bells," he said, and a whole bunch of pinballs fell into place. "I know. They appear when I lose control." He thumped onto the sofa and fought to reclaim reality. Reaching out a tentative hand, he picked one up and popped it into his mouth. The warm morsel dissolved, coating his tongue in a delicious chocoholic heaven. "This is what you were hiding from me," he stated, more to reassure himself than for her confirmation. A lone tear dripped down her left cheek, and she nodded, chewing on her lower lip. "Don't cry. I can't handle a woman crying." He edged onto the chair and pulled her into his lap. "I won't yell anymore. I'll try not to anyway. What do you mean you're a witch?" "I..." He patted her back as she strained through a fit of hiccups. "I am," she said. A sob burst out. "I am." 98


He held her, and she collapsed on his chest. At least no gladiators made their appearance. Jake dug his fingers through the knots in his hair. It was a dream, it must have been. He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again, he caught a glimpse of a patch of mud caked on his upper thigh. "Tee, were we just in a field surrounded by Roman gladiators?" A tic under his eye jumped at machine-gun speed. His mind reeled. She nodded against his shoulder. Seemingly insignificant Tee details flooded Jake's mind: the sudden appearance of cobwebs at Eight Bells, her quick and complete disappearance from Trinidad before the blasted Bastille dinner, her parents' reactions when he'd inquired about evening flights to Barbados, the coming and going of the aroma of chocolate, the swirling rose petals in the yacht club's parking lot. A rose petal flitted onto his nose, and he brushed it aside. The woman thought she was a witch. He shot a glance at her. She believed her words. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered reading about people like her who believed in witches and warlocks. He stopped his shiver of revulsion before it began. This seemed so simple weeks ago. Once he learned of Tony's death, he grabbed at the chance to get her out of his system and plotted this whole scenario—a brief, torrid affair to satisfy the peculiar sexual cravings she incited. Then he could go back to the world he'd built, not needing anyone, not craving anyone. 99


"You're not a witch." Jake cleared his throat, touched a finger to her cheek, and exhaled in relief when nothing happened. "How do you explain the gladiators?" Her belligerent tone took him aback. The brown blanket slipped off one shoulder, and she sat up and stuck a redpainted fingernail into his chest. "There must be a logical explanation." He shifted in the chair. "Like?" He flinched when her nails stabbed his bare flesh and grabbed one hand. "Damn it, woman. You have the nerve to be angry with me?" He snatched her other hand before it made contact with his chest. "Who's the loony claiming to be a witch?" "You think I'm insane, do you?" Her voice rose exponentially with each word, and her eyelids squeezed shut. A chunk of ice hit Jake's temple and bounced onto his thigh. He tried to move his feet. They were stuck. He lowered his gaze. Mud covered his legs up to his knees. "How do you like being knee-deep?" She giggled. Hailstones rained down on him. His temper exploded. He crooked an elbow over his face and covered his penis with one cupped hand in a futile attempt at protecting his more vulnerable parts against the torrent of hard, icy chunks. "Ouch," he howled. "This isn't funny." Her eyes widened. She bunched a fist over her mouth and pointed, but he heard her stifled chortles. Jake ground his teeth as he whipped his head around. 100


Vikings. A band of blue-painted, near-naked giants wielding swords and bellowing grisly war cries raced towards them. He didn't hesitate, instead pulled Tee into his arms, slanted his mouth over hers, and drank hungrily, hoping it would work. His life depended on it. The icy wind disappeared, replaced by a balmy breeze, which cocooned their seated, embracing bodies. Music tinkled in the background, and he sank into soft upholstery. Her tongue tickled the roof of his mouth, tracing a tantalizing path. "You taste like heaven, babe." Distracted, aroused, and aching, Jake nibbled on her full lower lip and tugged the blanket down, his hands cupping her breasts. Desperate for more, he dove into Tee's moist warmth and rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Thunder boomed. He froze and pushed away from her, and his eyes flitted around the room. Harbor Lodge, they were safe in the small cottage. She sat in his lap with the dry brown throw wrapped loosely around her body. The blue cloth blanket lay across his pelvis. "I always wondered what all the fuss was about." She smiled at him, reached up, and outlined his lips with a finger. "This is the reason you didn't want me to kiss you." The words warped his reality. Yet her witch claim fit so many puzzle pieces into place, even if it tested his sanity. Nodding, she sat up and pulled the cover over her shoulders, clutching the ends together at her chest. Rose 101


petals swirled through the air. He caught one in his hand, his mind fogged. "I'm dreaming, aren't I? This is another Tee fantasy. Okay, I give in. Be a witch, be my witch, for the next two weeks." "Another Tee fantasy?" "You've no idea how many ways I've—" Jake bit his tongue. Women didn't like that word. He stroked a stray curl behind her ear and continued speaking. "Made love to you in my mind." "Oh." She nibbled the tip of one finger. "How often?" For a few seconds, he forgot everything that just happened, enthralled by her charming oblivion. Didn't she know how sexy she was, with that mesmerizing blend of lush sensuality, innocence, and adorableness, as if the vileness of the world had never touched her? Her husband had spurned her; she should be a bitter, vicious bitch. He studied her rosy cheeks and surrendered to the moment, knowing he would do almost anything to make love to her again, properly this time. She thought she was a witch. He had secret visions. Which was more improbable? Who was more insane? Hell, nothing made sense. "Okay, let's get back to this witch thing. Am I going to have Vikings and gladiators at my back every time I kiss you?" He chucked her chin, hoping against hope some miracle happened, and her answer would negate the events of the morning. 102


"I wished the Vikings on you." She shook her head. "I don't know where the gladiators came from." "You wished savages with swords on me and kept me stuck in mud on purpose?" The soft-spoken question belied the heated anger in his veins. Determined not to venture into her jumbled reality, Jake gritted his teeth. He would not fall for her hallucinations. Witches didn't exist. Shooting a surreptitious glance at his feet and finding them clean and dry, every bunched muscle shuddered in relief. She nodded. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. All of his remorse about using her diminished. Two weeks of hot animal sex, and then goodbye, he'd have no guilty conscience, not after spending time with a delusional woman. A soft tickling down his chest sidetracked his thoughts. A shower of rose petals fell around them, over them, in a gentle shower. Okay. He forced his eyes to the ceiling; the pink flowers seemed to hover about four feet above Tee's head. His gut clenched and he un-balled his fisted hands. Deal with one issue at a time. Break this down to the smallest element. "Back to kissing, do gladiators appear every time?" Maybe it was some sort of hypnotic trick. They certainly had seemed real, the Vikings too. However, he and Tee were both clean and dry, and that disproved everything, didn't it? After all, he had been knee-deep in mud. But, his logic reared, they'd both seen the same things. An amazing coincidence? He squelched all thoughts in that direction. On 103


the plane ride home, he would analyze the situation objectively. For now he'd do anything to get her back into bed. "Gladiators haven't happened before, but other things have. I've only kissed three, no, now four men. Actually, two were boys—one on my thirteenth birthday and then another, a couple of weeks later." "What happened?" He squelched his instinctive immediate reaction to her words. The realization that he would be the first for her for all things sexual crowding into one notion, mine, all mine. Random tangential images zizagged through his mind. He glanced down at the chair now covered by a couple of inches of dusky pink rose petals, his gaze switching to the cupcakes, flitting to her dry clean body. "We were playing spin the bottle." Her fingers loosened their fierce grip on the chenille material. He caught a glimpse of her peach-pink nipple. None of this made any sense, in particular, the exponential leap of desire flaring in his groin. Two weeks to quench his hunger for this weird woman—he could put up with anything for a fortnight. "We're still not sure what happened exactly." Jake covered her mouth with the tip of his forefinger. He swallowed the gigantic lump in his throat knowing he shouldn't ask the question. "We?" he croaked. Tee met his eyes then. She grimaced and shrugged. 104


"My friend Dee was part of the group. She's a witch too. Anyway, the boy and I ended up in a Cinderella carriage drawn by horses with uniformed footmen. I think that happened because we'd just been to Disneyworld for the first time. Somehow, things became confused in my mind. Dee got me out of there just as the whole thing disappeared. Two weeks later, she decided I should try it again, sort of test it out. I never really liked the other guy, but he was convenient. That time bats appeared, hundreds of bats." Flummoxed, Jake lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, playing for time. It didn't matter. The whole situation seemed like one strange, nightmarish roller coaster ride with no end in sight. "Bats?" The fire roared into a blaze, snapping and crackling. "Yes." "Did Tony know about, that you? Is that why he said you were repulsive?" He trailed off, repressed a shudder of revulsion, and thought maybe it was a good thing and maybe it would appease his lust for her. She pushed away from his chest. "Nothing happened when he kissed me, nothing at all. That's one of the reasons I let the marriage happen. He seemed safe." "How did he find out?" "I was prepared to let him, um, have sex. On our honeymoon night, when he tried, um, penetration, we sort of ended up with the Vikings. I seem to have a knack for the early 1500s." 105


"And?" "I got us back to the right time, and he hit me so hard I went flying across our hotel room." "That bastard hurt you?" Rage coursed through his veins. "I took him back to the Vikings and let them have a go at him. He never touched me again." "Why didn't you divorce him?" "My parents don't acknowledge my witchy powers, and my mother, in particular, refuses to discuss the strange things that happened before I learned a little self-control." She shook her head. "I couldn't discuss it with them and if Dad knew he'd hit me, he would have had him thrown in jail." She shrugged. "Do your parents know? About you?" "We've never actually discussed it. I tried a few times, but my mother refuses to acknowledge that I'm a little peculiar." "Why didn't you leave him?" "Tony had connections, Jake, and a divorce would've meant an ugly public battle." A glacier crept up his spine, chilling his flesh and sending every hair perpendicular. "What happened later on?" "I did everything I could to lead a separate life, spent a lot of time here in Barbados. When I heard he'd died, I felt I'd been given a new lease on life. No one will ever have control over me again." "How does it work, this power of yours?"

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In a crazy, oxymoronic way, things now began to make sense. He suppressed a mournful groan. Tee was a witch, and she had cast a spell over him. "Unreliably. It's always been like that. I've learned over the years how to prevent it from happening, most of the time, anyway. When I'm emotional I can't control it." She slid off his lap and moved to stand between the fireplace and the open window. Dark clouds, laden with moisture, carpeted a sky illuminated by a sickle-shaped sliver of moonlight. A hard rain began falling, and drops sputtered in gusts against the glass pane. Blazing flames morphed into glowing logs licking irregular, tentative flares. "My special ability, that's what Dee calls our talents, is a conjuring one. I think of something and it appears, not that it works all the time. If I'm upset, things go wrong." She turned a deep pink. "I must have equated you or your kiss with gladiators somehow. I know I associate the rose petals with my grandmother. I think I inherited my powers from her. They certainly don't come from Tricia." "Why don't you sit down? I'll get you a glass of wine." All the color had drained out of Tee's complexion, and he grew apprehensive of her fainting. "No, no wine. I haven't even told Dee the whole nightmare. Even if you don't believe me, it feels good to finally say it aloud." For you, Jake thought, not for me. "I need a drink."

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He stalked to the kitchen and opened and slammed several cabinet doors. He was sick and tired of this bucking bronco ride and wanted something tangible to cling to—anything. "The bar's in the wall unit over there." She pointed across the room. "The middle section." By the time he poured a tumbler of Scotch and settled back into a chair opposite her, the weather cleared and the fire died out. He didn't want to consider the implications of either event. "Tony really hated me towards the end. I had to keep up appearances until I figured out what to do, so I attended a dinner function with him. A friend owns the restaurant it was held in, Solimar. I'm severely allergic to a local herb called chadon bene, and my reactions worsen each time I'm exposed to it. The last time, I went into cardiac arrest and was lucky to survive." His stomach somersaulted. He knew what came next. "Joe, my friend who owns the restaurant, knows about my allergy and would never serve me food with chadon bene in it. Tony and I were seated next to each other. Before the second course could arrive, I had difficulty breathing. They rushed me to the hospital and pumped my stomach that night. Everyone put it down to chadon bene, but I know how I react to it. It starts with a tingling, a prickling, itchy sensation all over. Sort of like a swarm of ants stinging every inch of skin." "It was something else?" "Yes, there was no itching or prickling at all. He'd slipped me something, I'm sure of it, but I couldn't prove anything. 108


Two days later, my brakes failed on the way home from Maracas Beach. You know how mountainous the road to that beach is. My car almost went over the cliffs. I managed to wrench the steering wheel and ended up in a ditch. It took a couple more accidents like that before I realized Tony would stop at nothing to have me dead. So, I confronted him." Her complexion, already pale, took on a slate cast. Jesus, Tony, a psychopathic thug, his gut told him her suspicions were justified. "Sure you won't take that wine now?" She shook her head, stared at the fireplace, and a log burst into a lone single flame. The sight made his belly hollow. Was she controlling the fire subconsciously? Tee snagged her lower lip with her eyetooth, and it reddened under the pressure she exerted. "I didn't want anyone else to hear us, so I asked him to go for a walk. I told him I would take him to the Vikings and leave him there permanently if anything further happened." Her mouth twisted into a dry smile. "That afternoon, I drove down to his office and told him I was starting divorce proceedings. He threatened to harm my parents, Dee, anyone I cared about. Do you know what frightened me the most?" She met his gaze, and a sneer tugged at her lips. "He never admitted trying to kill me, not once. He turned me into a blithering coward, afraid of a damned shadow. I was so paranoid, I watched everything my parents ate, supervised all the cooking. Made my mother change cars with me randomly. I knew I could save myself, but what if I wasn't around when he did something to them?" 109


"He had you where he wanted you. You couldn't go to the police, because you had no evidence. There was nothing you could do." Trying to lighten the moment, he picked up a handful of rose petals and threw them in the air. "Is this why you always smell of roses?" Tee shrugged, rose to her feet, and turned around. She glanced over her shoulder at him. The sad little smile and her slumped shoulders tempted him to offer sympathy. He shook his head. He should be the one needing reassurance, not her. "What happens now?" The strained silence lengthened. The only sounds in the cottage were the popping from the fire, which seemed to ebb and rage in tempo with Tee's emotions. Jake grabbed the blue material on his lap, stood up, and tied it around his waist. He moved to stand beside her and tugged on his earlobe, indecision wracking his brain. She wet her lips. His gaze followed her delicious pink tongue flicking at the corner of her mouth, and his prick vaulted to attention. Decision made. However, he could take no more of this today. It was time to take control of the situation. "I have a proposition. We need to spend some normal time together, just a woman and a man talking. No Vikings, no gladiators. How about a simple day at the beach tomorrow?" "I promised Dee I'd do an exhibition ride for a meet tomorrow." Her eyes shifted to the grandfather clock to the left of the bedroom doorway. "It's at nine and will last the 110


whole morning. We could go to the beach afterwards if you like?" He dragged her against him and locked his arms around her waist. "I like. Can I come and watch you ride?" "You want to see me ride?" He melted at the pure joy shining in her honey eyes and fingered the dimple in one cheek. "It turns me on. How about those three weeks in London?" "I've thrown a lot at you tonight, and I need some time to think. If you don't mind, I'd prefer to sleep in separate beds tonight. Why don't we talk about it in the morning?" A logical suggestion, one he should welcome. Instead, Jake tried to talk her out of it, to seduce her into the shower, but she glowered at him and threatened to conjure herself to Dee's home. He surrendered, but pouted and cursed his damned luck. Since they hadn't eaten and the dinner in the oven proved inedible, she conjured a pizza, and they shared it. He bit into the last slice, and something that had been nagging at him suddenly came into focus. "How do you do it?" "What?" "Keep the food at a perfect temperature." "I'm not sure, but I hate cold food, cold baths too." A half shrug lifted one gleaming shoulder. "So, your water temperature's always perfect too?" Uneasiness cricked his neck as the implications of how such a small feat impacted on normality loomed. 111


She nodded, but must have heard the insecurity in his voice. "You can still have an out, Jake. That's the reason I think we need tonight. I won't be upset if you change your mind." Temptation wracked him and kept him awake in the smaller bedroom into the wee hours of the morning. Jake wrestled with the day's events, going over them again and again, analyzing every detail, trying to find a logical explanation, and coming up bankrupt. By eating the chocolate cake, had he accepted the rest? For a couple of seconds, he considered telling Alex, his best friend, about everything, but discarded the notion before the temptation materialized into a late-night telephone call. If their positions were reversed, he knew his instinctive reaction would be to get Alex help, commit him if necessary. He fell asleep wondering if this was how insanity began, with the blurring of the edges of reality. A cupcake at a time, one rose-petal shower, then another, each incident eating away at a predefined, rational world, like flesh-eating bacteria devouring a finger, a limb, until the heart stops beating. Tee knocked on his door the following morning, and after he'd showered and dressed, they munched bran muffins on the way to the meet. When they reached the exclusive country club, he kissed her in the parking lot, and giddy and flushed, she agreed to London. His feelings about Tee slid willy-nilly over the next two hours from absolute admiration to fury to frantic terror as he watched her through a series of acrobatic feats designed to light the fear of God in him. Before the ride started, she 112


explained the different movements, and it all seemed relatively tame. She went through a series of dressage movements in a riding ring: walk, trot, canter, figures of eight, canter pirouettes. Tee moved as one with her mount, an enormous jet-black stallion with a massive, arrogant head. Then came the jumps, and after she cleared the first set, they raised the bar a foot and repeated the procedure with each successive round. At the end, she flew over four-foothigh bars. He gripped the wooden fence encasing the riding circle so hard splinters wove into his palms and fingers. The applause at the end of her performance prompted his relieved sigh. He slumped against the fence and breathed in the rural aromas of manure, sweat, and leather. Gradually, he regained control over his hammering pulse and turned to find his way to the waiting area. A new round of clapping drew his attention back to the ring. He whirled around and spotted Tee riding bareback on the monster horse, feet encased in Indian-style moccasins instead of high black riding boots. She went through the same routine as she'd done before. There was a smattering of applause when Tee finished and signaled the horse to take a bow. Abruptly, she kneed the horse into a canter from a slow walk and promptly stood up on its back. Jake's heart dropped right to China. She went a half round and then somersaulted and landed, seated, as the horse continued its smooth gait around the arena. Someone threw her a rifle, and Tee used it as a cowboy prop, pretending to shoot as she leaned sideways, head parallel to the stallion's. Then she tucked her 113


feet under the horse's forelegs and arched backwards, helmet-clad head pointed to the animal's swishing tail. That was as close to fainting as he'd ever come in his entire life. Time stood completely and unalterably still for the next few minutes. It turtled by with each crazy stunt, and he found himself praying for the first time in years. Long after she left the circle to a thundering ovation, he braced against the fence, willing his pulse to return to a normal cadence. Sweaty, disheveled, and exultant, Tee slid into the rented car and snapped her seat belt closed. That did it for him. "Why in blasted hell do you bother even wearing a seatbelt? You're a million times safer in a car without the blasted thing than you were in that ring minutes ago!" he roared, all his tension and fear converted to rage. "Jesus Murphy, I died a thousand deaths watching you. Christ, how in God's name did your parents let you take up such a dangerous sport? Are you insane?" Hell, if she thought to have their daughter follow in her footsteps ... He stopped, arrested mid-thought, and went numb with the realization that, somewhere along the line, his subconscious had accepted his vision as reality. The image burned into his pupils the first time he met those ambershaded eyes sprang to the forefront. The little girl with the black curls, a baby, theirs. No one knew better than he did about the impossibility of such an event occurring.

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"It's really not that dangerous, and I did wear a helmet." She peered up at him; her forehead furrowed, and touched a fingertip to his bicep. "I trained with Cavalia, a trick-riding school in Canada, for a couple of years. What I did today is nothing compared to what we did then. You didn't like it?" For a few minutes, they drove on in silence. "Jake?" "You scared the daylights out of me, babe," he finally blurted as they arrived at Harbor Lodge. "I expected you to do the stuff I've seen on television, jumps and the figures you explained before the exhibition. Why didn't you warn me about the rest?" "I wanted to surprise you," she muttered. "I guess I wanted to show off a little." He snagged her into his arms and tilted up her chin. "You could have broken your neck." She grinned. "I'm too good for that, and besides, there was no real danger. I trained Brandy before I sold him to the riding school here. He and I were partners for about five years." Jake brushed his lips against hers, and butterfly-kissed her eyes closed, trailing kisses across her forehead. "How about that day at the beach now? I need to relax." "The private beach is about half a mile away." "Why don't we pack a cooler and a few sandwiches and head on down to it?" He studied her expression. She seemed wary, hesitant. The way Tee worried her lower lip with those pearl teeth 115


made him want to drown in her mouth, kiss her for hours until his tongue slurred with exhaustion. Settling for a quick nip, he reached across and pulled the door handle. "I'll change into my bathing suit. If you don't mind, I can conjure drinks and snacks when we get to the beach?" This was a test, Jake realized. "Fine by me. Do you do it often?" In the process of easing out of the passenger seat, she turned to look at him and answered, "All my life I've avoided using my powers because I don't have much control over them. Food is relatively easy, but other things aren't." Hopping out of the vehicle, he shot her another query. "Like the Vikings?" "No, I've done that too often. I usually end up in the same place and time, some castle in northern Scotland around 1501. The thing that's weird is they don't seem fazed when I appear out of nowhere." "You speak to them?" "No, Douglas instructed me not to. And they don't really acknowledge me, but they glance in my direction.'" Jake digested the two tidbits and more puzzle pieces fell into place." "Douglas Graham, the man who answered the door at Dee's house?" At her lifted eyebrows, he added. "I went to the house before coming here. He answered the door and told me where to find you." Halting at the entrance to the cottage, he frowned. "Douglas Graham knows about you?"

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"I'm about to stretch your reality further." She crinkled her nose and gave a little half-a-shoulder apologetic shrug. Her eyebrows lifted in query. "Go for it," he said, taking a deep breath. "Douglas is a warlock and my mentor. I told you about Dee. Her power is healing. There are nine of us altogether, and Douglas is our guide." His brain whirred like a helicopter spiraling into a crash. They strolled through the doorway, and he set his cell on the kitchen counter. The minute his hand lifted off it, the phone buzzed and rang at the same time. He jumped, grabbed it, and flipped open the phone. "I'm waiting for word on a deal," he threw out and then spoke into the receiver. "Mathews." He cupped a hand over the receiver and said, "It's my lawyer." "Alex, how's the situation?" "Worsening, are you alone?" "No, should I be?" "Definitely." "Hang then, I'll be a few seconds." Pressing the mute button, he said, "I need to take this. I saw a study last night. Is it okay if I use it?" "Sure, go ahead. I'll putter around until you're finished." "Thanks for understanding." He gave her a hard smack on the lips, fished his Bluetooth headphone out of his shirt pocket, and strolled to the study. He sat in the plush leather chair, curled the Bluetooth around his ear, and hit the hold button. Snatching a slip of 117


paper from the printer stand, he began making notes as Alex summarized the current state of the IRS investigation. When he ended his unplanned conference call with his friend and a slew of Middle East and London lawyers, Jake immediately pressed Alex's speed-dial button. "What the hell was that about, buddy?" "I suspect it's related to the missing funds. There's more bad news. Someone deposited cash into the suspended Antigua account, over 20K." "Cash, as in dollars? And if it's suspended, how'd that happen?" "US greenbacks. Must have filled a backpack, an amount like that. The bank's tracing the transaction." Jake groaned. "Homeland Security wants to ask you a few questions. They're becoming impatient. I'd head back pronto. You know what tight-assed pricks they are." "I planned to stay on a few days." "I'm receiving hourly calls, Jake. They're making threatening noises about having you taken into custody. Jump on a plane. Hire one if you need to. You don't want to get on an alert list." "Blast." "Word of advice—fly through Puerto Rico, and come into Florida domestically. If they're watching the airports, there's not much I can do to protect you." "Good idea. I'll come straight to your office." "Call me as soon as you know when you'll arrive." "Done. Thanks for watching my back." 118


"A given. See you." Pressing the end button, he muttered an expletive and lurched to his feet. Jake found Tee in the bedroom, clad in a peach swimsuit, which topped all his fantasies. He hardened and battled the impulse to strip the little triangles off her breasts with his teeth. "Jesus, you look delicious." He halted in the doorway and splayed his fingers. "Don't come near me. Tee, I have to leave. Right away. There's more trouble about Tony. Homeland Security's insisting on meeting with me. You have no idea how much I hate to go." "I'm so sorry, Jake. Can I do anything to help? Do you want me to search the Trinidad office?" "I've already done that, but it won't hurt to take another look. Thanks. I want to kiss you goodbye, but if I do, I'll never leave. I'm going to grab my carry-on from the other bedroom. I'll call you from the airport. Plan on London, babe. I'll send the details via e-mail." He raked her figure one last time and spun around, determined to resist temptation. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Bach Bribes Before leaving Barbados, Jake booked a first class electronic ticket to London and e-mailed it to Tee. That afternoon, Interpol and US authorities raised a worldwide terrorist red flag, triggering overflowing airports and domino delays. It proved an exhausting and trying trip back to Florida. While he traveled, Jake swung from one end of the pendulum to the other whenever he thought about Tee. Tired, nerves taut, he'd fallen into a dream-filled, disturbed sleep with convoluted images, which merged and morphed, leaving him with no clear visions, but a deep, seething foreboding. Somewhere between his third plane ride and his fourth, he decided to pamper Tee and shower her with romance while their affair lasted. Arriving at Ft. Lauderdale almost two days later, his irritation mounted as he realized he wouldn't make it to London in time to meet her. The minute he cleared the plane, Jake whipped out his phone and pressed the speed-dial button for Tee's cell. The country operator for Trinidad came on the line with a message stating all lines to the island were busy. He waited until the elevator doors opened onto the parking garage level and hit Tee's button, same message. He reached his black Porsche Carrera GT and tried her number again. As he drove onto the I-95 ramp, he hit the redial key once more. The phone rang, and Jake let out an audible sigh of relief. 120


Once, twice, three times. He hit the steering wheel with his palm when Tee's recorded message kicked in. The beep sounded, and he left a voice mail explaining his delay. By the time he reached Alex's office in Boca Raton, Jake managed to sort through all his office voice mails and return most calls. Flopping into an oversized leather armchair, he loosened his tie and dragged the fingers of one hand through his hair. "What's the situation?" Jake methodically worked the tie loose as he spoke. "Fraud charges are pending." "Hell they are. That's pure crap, and you know it." In silent response, Alexander Mayfield quirked an eyebrow at him and curled his lips at the corners. "Tony?" Jake stared out the glass window, never noticing the magnificent view of the navy Atlantic Ocean and an azure sky streaked with cotton batting wisps. Dislike akin to hatred churned in his gut. Tony Trent had bulldozed into his life, and the results proved catastrophic business-wise. But it'd brought him Tee. And nothing, nothing that happened could make him regret that. Ever. "Unfortunately. The authorities have tracked the missing money to a bank in the Far East, get this, in Afghanistan." "He wired it there?" "I'm not talking about Tony's two mil. Turns out that's the least of our worries. There are a series of money transfers from an Afghan bank to the Antigua account, and the amounts involved are mind-boggling. Over 400 mil went 121


through the account during the three months of your partnership with Trent." "Not possible, buddy, and I have the bank statements to prove it. The only transactions on the account were the monthly interest on the two million." "Did the bank send the statements directly to you?" "Electronic statements e-mailed on the first of the month. In the confusion after Tony's death, I didn't notice I hadn't received one for around three weeks. I e-mailed the bank, the e-mail bounced back, and it was only when I called that I found out it had been cleared a week after he died." "The same week the SEC started their investigation." Alex shook his head. "I should've been suspicious then. At any rate, I pulled some strings while you were in Trinidad and discovered what initiated their interest—an anonymous tip on an Internal Revenue hotline." "Jesus, it was a setup. Someone's targeting either the company or Tony. If he was into both drugs and money laundering, he could've pissed off somebody seriously. Maybe the boating accident wasn't one after all." "One of his colleagues ordered a hit? Maybe. It still doesn't explain the disparity between your bank statements and what Interpol's uncovered." "Interpol? Jesus," Jake said. "You mentioned Homeland Security. Where the hell did Interpol come from?" "The 20K deposit." "Blast." "You can say that again. The more I analyze this situation, the more I'm convinced someone's playing us." Alex 122


grimaced, picked up a fountain pen, and tapped it on the ink blotter. "Any good news from your trip? Uncovered anything helpful?" "Did you know Trinidad is only nine miles off the coast of Venezuela? And I suspect it's impossible to patrol all the ocean mileage between the two coastlines. I learned something new this trip. Tee's family has a vacation home on an island between the two countries, and Tony used it frequently. He kept his boat docked there." "She has to be involved then." His jaw clenched. Even though it'd been his initial reaction, the notion Alex suspected Tee of nefarious intent raised every hackle, and he snapped, "No, she's not. I'm positive." Alex frowned. "I don't buy that, not for a second. Let me have her investigated." His gut clenched. "Don't even think about it. I have proof she's not involved." "Let me be the judge of that. I am your lawyer, after all." "You'll have to take my word for it." No way would he share Tee's secret. Alex would laugh his head off or commit him in a heartbeat. And as his distance from Tee increased, so did his skepticism. Blasted didn't affect his hardening every time he thought of her in that skimpy peach bikini though. "Jake, your situation is precarious. Now is not the time to clam up on me. I only staved off Homeland Security by agreeing to an interview tomorrow morning."

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"I forgot to mention Tony's office was burglarized. They took every piece of equipment and wrecked anything they couldn't carry." "Crap, crap, and more crap." Alex tossed the Montblanc fountain pen he'd been twirling with one hand onto the desk. "This is going to be a bitch to unravel." "I have to be on a plane to London tonight." "Not possible, they'll get you at the airport. That 20K deposit has everyone spooked. And it points to you since Trent is dead. Plus, the majority are marked bills." He picked up the pen again and started a two-fingered swirling. "Marked? Jesus, what else can go wrong?" Jake sighed and slouched lower in the chair. He crossed his feet at the ankles and contemplated his moccasin-style shoes. "I thought they did that only with kidnappings." "They do." "Wonderful. Money from a kidnapping ends up deposited in a suspended account with my company's name on it. Blast it, Alex, I'd have to be an idiot to do something so stupid." "Why are you so wound up? I haven't seen you this tense since high school." Alex swiveled the chair to the right, stretched out his legs, and scrutinized his friend. "Stop studying me like an insect. Give it to me straight." Jake drummed his fingers on the leather armrest. "A prominent family in Colombia paid three million US dollars to their daughter's kidnappers eight months ago. Approximately twenty percent of the bills were marked randomly. Most of that 20K deposit came from the ransom payment." 124


"I've never even been to Colombia. How could anyone suspect I'm involved?" Jake straightened, leaned forward in the chair, rested his elbows on his knees, and steepled his hands together. "You aren't officially a suspect—not at this point anyway. As your attorney and friend, though, I should warn you, the situation's grim. Let me investigate the widow." "No, and don't mention it again." "I'm on your side, Jake. There's no need to snap at me. I'd advise you to speak to the relevant authorities immediately." "Why should I? They have nothing on me. I have an international cell phone and can answer any question within hours. Unless the authorities want to question me between now and three o'clock, they're toast." "It's not like you to ignore my advice." Alex shot him with his lawyer-courtroom-interrogative glance, and his tight features relaxed. "It's the widow, isn't it? How many trips to Trinidad have you made since Tony's death? Don't think I haven't noticed." "Don't speculate. It's not like you to be nosy." "I'm a lawyer." Alex guffawed. "It's my business and my nature to be curious." Jake rose. He'd lose any chance with Tee if he missed his flight. "Sit down. I haven't finished." He scowled at his friend, but obeyed his order. "Well?" "I know you're innocent, and at this point, there's not enough proof for an arrest warrant. Don't cooperate and it's going to stand against you, if we go to trial. Miss the 125


Homeland Security appointment tomorrow morning and I guarantee they'll take you into custody. Homeland Security does not need evidence to detain someone, just suspicion." "You've convinced me. I'll change my flight. What time is the meeting?" "Nine. Steady, there's more. The Interpol division of Scotland Yard also wants to speak with you. I got a call from one Sir Arthur Flood from London. I'll arrange for you to meet him while you're there." "Done. Next?" "A Colombian general called me before Interpol notified me about the marked bills. His granddaughter was the kidnap victim. Made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. While he was polite, he insists on speaking with you. He flew in yesterday and came directly to my office." "Jesus," Jake said, and the hollowness in his belly ballooned. "You can say that again. I'm not easily intimidated, but that was a tense interview. I arranged for you to see him tomorrow at 7:00 a.m." "What the hell did Tony get me into? What are the dots connecting all of this?" "I know what you mean. Too many coincidences. I started another investigation into Tony's background, using an offshore security company this time. They're not bound by US laws, and I'm hoping they'll uncover something useful." Exasperation and frustration threatened to morph into rage, and Jake gripped the soft leather arms of the chair to regain some semblance of control. "I've worked hundred-hour 126


weeks for years to build the company, but I became too impatient. Instead of taking Tony's capital, I should've slowed the acquisition rate." "Hindsight," Alex said and inclined his head. "There's some good news. With the new attention from Interpol and Homeland Security, the IRS folded their investigation. The US books are perfect, and they've no authority in Antigua, or Trinidad for that matter." "I'll take any good news at this point." "You look beat. Go home and nurse a few Scotches." "Best advice so far." Jake stood. "Thanks, Alex, I appreciate the cover." "What are friends for?" He took two long strides before Alex's voice halted him. "Be careful. Watch your temper with these men." He glanced over his shoulder. "One misstep and you could be slapped into prison. The new terrorist laws give absolute power to arrest and lock away anyone, even a US citizen. Call me at the slightest sign of trouble. Let's use our old code words." Jake smiled. Memories of the old days at the orphanage warmed his insides. "Maggie May. Don't worry, I realize the seriousness of all of this. I wouldn't have agreed to change my flight otherwise." Checking in at his office, he held a quick meeting with his finance team and ordered a security clampdown internally— no interviews, no press releases, no journalist interaction. Satisfied with his preparations and with current cash flow projections, Jake didn't arrive at his condo until after six that 127


evening. After a quick shower, he tumbled onto the bed, turned on the news, and fell asleep in short order. Jerking awake hours later with the image of Tee in her peach bikini searing his mind, he scowled at his raging erection and rumbling stomach. As per normal, a scavenging of the kitchen produced a box of crumbling crackers and one of stale cereal. Better than nothing. He called Claridge's Hotel in London at 4:00 a.m. Florida time "I want the concierge." When a clipped English male voice asked how he could be of service, Jake replied, "Who am I speaking to?" He waited for the man's response. "Mr. Brown, I'm Jake Mathews. I have the Davies suite booked for this evening under the name Mathews and Trent Corporation. A guest will be staying with me, a Mrs. Tallulah Trent. She's due to arrive at Heathrow at 9:00 a.m. Can you arrange to have a limo meet her?" The telephone system played Bach when Brown put him on hold. Jake picked up the remote and muted the sound on the TV. "I'm aware the traffic situation is erratic. I'm watching the news here in Florida." He listened to the man's warning. "Fine, the limo may not make it to the airport on time. I don't care. I'll pay for it anyway, whether you locate Mrs. Trent or not. Let me give you her mobile number, 868-6249550." Mr. Brown went into a long explanation of the fees. "I don't care about the price. Bill the amount to the suite." 128


The man wished him a good day. "Hang on, Mr. Brown, I'm not done." Bach again; the man had put him on hold. Jake flipped channels while waiting. "Brown, you're back. Take this down. Deliver two dozen pink roses to one of the bedrooms in the suite, and make sure the bellman takes Mrs. Trent to the bedroom with the roses." On hold again. If he had to listen to classical music, he preferred Beethoven any day. Jake drummed his fingers on the desk. More Bach, and then Brown came on the line and asked him if he needed anything else. "Yes, I have two more requests. Ten minutes before Mrs. Trent arrives, have the driver alert the hotel. I want someone to draw a bath for her. Make sure it smells of roses." Waiting for the concierge to get back to him, Jake wondered how many piano concertos Bach composed during his lifetime. They were so dreary. He stood, walked to the window, and tugged the cord for the blinds. They flew up. The horizon showed a faint hint of gold. "Last request, deliver a bottle of a good red wine to the room and decant it before Mrs. Trent arrives. If you can get an Edmeades Zinfandel, that would be perfect. That's it. I'll make sure you know how appreciative I am when I arrive later today. You'll be well compensated, I assure you." Jake chuckled when Mr. Brown asked, "And should I arrange your transportation as well, Mr. Mathews?" "My flight arrives at four. I'll be on the lookout for your limo driver. Bye." 129


Jake dropped the landline into its charger and headed to the bathroom, halting in the doorway. A cascade of panic had his teeth grinding, his lungs stuttering, and he bumped his forehead against the doorframe and groaned. Why the hell had he done something so impulsive and foolish? Ordering flowers, wine, and a bath? Blast, had he actually asked the man to make it smell of roses? Muttering a few choice expletives, he re-focused on the events of the coming day, and continued into the bathroom. He could well be in jail by the end of the day. Adjusting the jets to a pounding pulse, he lingered in the shower in the hopes the remorseless water battering would ease the stiffness in his neck and shoulders; all to no avail. Dreading the interviews with Homeland Security and the Colombian general, his gaze happened upon the digital clock on the marble counter; Tee's plane should be landing in London soon. Dawn broke in a glorious ball of burnt amber rising above a horizon delineated by the deep blue of the Atlantic Ocean. Boca daybreaks always proved spectacular, even when the tropical humidity peaked above a hundred percent. Jake checked his watch, seven on the dot. He had made it to the appointment with the Colombian General on time. To his surprise, the general proved an efficient, decisive man, and the interview went well. Within less than thirty minutes, the man acknowledged Jake had nothing to do with the kidnapping.

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Alex arrived in time to catch the army commander ending their meeting. They rushed to his office for the Homeland Security interview. Two hours of aggressive, hostile questioning frayed Jake's temper. At noon, Alex finally demanded the agents leave or produce a warrant for Jake's arrest. They reluctantly left, promising to do just that. "What the hell is wrong with those guys?" Jake slammed his hand against the wall. "You'd think they had me pegged for a serial killer." "That was rough." Alex agreed. "I'm glad I was present. Sit, Jake, calm down. Have a drink before you hit the road. Scotch?" "Sure." He slumped into the chair, rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger, and accepted the tumbler Alex proffered. Ice cubes clinked against the glass. "Can I delay giving them my passport?" He took a sip of the liquor. Alex sat in the adjacent armchair. He put his glass on the round mahogany table and tore a lined yellow sheet from the pad laying there. "I wouldn't advise it, and they don't need it to prevent you leaving the country. My guess is they'll red-tag you as soon as they get to their office and that effectively cuts you loose. Even if you managed to get on a plane and land in another country, the minute immigration processed you, you'd be in custody." He wadded up the paper, threw it across the room at a burgundy leather wastebasket, and nodded in satisfaction as it hit the target. 131


"Want to lay odds against me being in London before midnight?" Jake downed the contents of the tumbler. "Don't even contemplate it. I vouched for you. You leave the country and my ass is on the line. Friendship is one thing—" Jake's fist connected with Alex's jaw before he could finish the word, and he followed up the blow with a right jab. Alex slumped against the desk, and his eyes rolled up in his head. "Sorry, buddy." Jake dragged Alex over to the couch and lifted him onto it. He disconnected the landline, searched Alex's jacket, found his mobile, and pocketed it. He didn't want the authorities to have any reason to blame Alex for his disappearance, and he intended to be on a plane bound for London within the hour. A wad of greenbacks paved his way. Figuring Homeland Security's focus would be Heathrow, Jake hired a jet to take him to Gatwick, London's other major airline destination. He'd figure out how to deal with British immigration when he got there. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Bullies & Blow Jobs The steward's voice over the intercom announced the arrival of the plane in London. Since Jake booked a first class seat for her, Tee was the first one off the 747. Heathrow airport had to rank as one of the most inefficiently designed airports in the world, Tee thought, as she trudged the endless, crowded hallway to the immigration area. To her surprise, only a few dozen people stood in the EU line. It moved quickly. She took out her passport. The female officer seated behind a tall counter called out, "Next." Tee smiled, gave the woman her passport, and rested her purse on a narrow counter. Her thoughts centered on Jake and the coming time with him. "Mrs. Trent, would you mind stepping this way, please?" Startled, Tee stared at the immigration representative in front of her. "Pardon me?" Two uniformed men materialized on either side of her. Tee glanced from one to the other. "Is something wrong?" She directed the question to the female official holding her passport. The woman averted her eyes. Hands cupped her elbows. The men stepped forward with Tee in between them. She planted her feet and tried to shake them off. "Wait a minute. She has my passport." Cold air hissed from the vent above. She shivered. 133


"It will be returned to you. Madam, you must follow us." "Why, who are you?" A cold sweat broke over her flesh. "We work with Scotland Yard, madam." "I want to see your ID first." She appealed to the younger man, who appeared more sympathetic. He sighed, whipped out a leather billfold, flipped a laminated ID at her, and tucked it back inside his jacket. "I'll come with you, but I'd prefer if you didn't touch me." "I'm afraid that is not possible. We follow a strict protocol." Tee gritted her teeth and adjusted her stride to match their pace. They led her to a tiny, windowless office, which smelled moldy and musty. It contained a scuffed metal desk and two chairs. The younger man waved at a rusty foldout chair. "St, Mrs. Trent." "I've been sitting for eight hours on a plane. I'd prefer to stand." "It wasn't a suggestion," the older man barked. Tee flinched, swallowed, and sat. As subtly as possible, she rubbed her damp palms on her skirt. The men flanked her. Tee dared a quick peek. They stared straight ahead, not at her. The chill air in the narrow, claustrophobic room raised goose bumps on her bare arms. She looked for her brown Coach handbag. In all her confusion, she hadn't missed it until now. "Where's my purse?" Tee cleared her throat. "It will be returned to you later, madam." "You took my purse?" No one answered her question. "I'm cold. My sweater's tied around the handle of my purse." 134


Silence. Tee squinted at them. Witchy temptation inched its way into her thoughts. "I said I'm cold. Will one of you please obtain my sweater for me?" No reaction, not even a blink of an eye, nasty, rude males, Tee stifled a snort. Of the firm opinion English civil servants confused civility with servility, she stood up, determined to take charge. Shuffling his feet, the junior inspector turned, pressed a hand on her shoulder, and pushed. "You will not manhandle me." Tee edged out from under his hold. "I demand to see your supervisor. Now." She stamped her foot. Whipping out metal handcuffs from a pocket, the senior official, in a swift move, surprising because of his bulk, clamped a meaty, damp palm over her hand. Soured sweat slapped her nostrils, making her head snap back. Escalating rage and apprehension triggered her instinctive flight reaction. Tee closed her eyes and visualized Heathrow's baggage claim area and the restroom located at its entrance. Peeking out from under one eyelid, she let out an audible sigh of relief. For once, her witchy powers had functioned as she wanted. The women's toilet and sink section of the lavatory teemed with bustling travelers. No one noticed her sudden appearance. Tension seeped out of her neck muscles, and a giddy triumph had her almost skipping through the entrance. Cheeks warm, she checked the lone screen outside for the location of her baggage claim area. She found her flight 135


number and read Carousel Eight. Singing the words, "I am woman, hear me roar," under her breath, warrior-confident and elated, Tee grinned like a banshee and weaved her way through the throngs of passengers, arms swinging. The airport's perpetual expansion made for long walkways. Tee noticed two uniformed airport security personnel at the far end of the noisy corridor. The female officer made eye contact with her and stared at her empty hands. Alarmed, she ducked around a corner and stepped up her pace. Two hallways converged, elbows jostled, shoulders bumped, feet shuffled. One tweed-clad traveler stumbled, a couple stopped to assist her, and a domino effect occurred. Irritation mounted in the crowd, someone swore, and in the middle of the melee, Tee pictured her purse. Thirty paces farther the crowd thinned, and victory loomed like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. A light tap on Tee's shoulder made sweat break out on her brow. Clenching her clammy palms, Tee did a slow pivot. "Did you lose your handbag, madam?" asked the female guard who'd been staring at her. She held up her brown Coach bag. The woman frowned, scrutinized Tee, and exchanged a glance with her male counterpart. "Apologies." The middle-aged man smelled funky. He shrugged. Tee smiled. In her best American accent, she murmured, "No problem." She sashayed away from them, dangling the purse in her hand. An announcer on a television screen mounted by Baggage Area Three blasted the news. Tee stopped when she 136


heard the words, "Tight security clampdown at Heathrow airport." So, that's what all the fuss was about, a terrorist roundup worldwide. They probably pulled her out of immigration as a spot check. Tee worried about her actions for long moments and decided no one would believe those two men anyway. She had her bag back. No one could prove she'd even been in that horrible little room. A group of men in dark suits with identical black devices tucked into their ears pushed past. Tee waited until they gained a ten-foot head start and followed the path they forged through the multitudes. The men broke into a jog and raced to Carousel Eight. One of the men heaved a brown suitcase banded with a distinctive red and white strip off the revolving U-shaped conveyor belt. Hers. Nauseated, limbs shaky, Tee leaned against a square column. A drop of perspiration tricked down her temple. She swiped at it and, pulse skittering, dug her fingernails into her palms. An airbag seemed to explode against her chest when the man gave her luggage to a uniformed police officer. As she watched, the milling throng surrounding the belt parted and reformed, absorbing him. The other men dissipated, winding through the thick mass of passengers crowding the spinning carousel. One approached a woman who resembled her, same hair color, a little shorter. During a brief interaction, the female scowled, pulled a passport out of her oversized purse, and slapped it into the man's outstretched hand. Damn, damn, damn. 137


Her knees buckled. She gulped and did a ninety-degree turn around the column holding on to the rough concrete. For the briefest moment, she considered using her powers, but chucked the idea as too risky given the pounding in her eardrums. One deep inhale, another, and both legs obeyed her commands. Tee concentrated on maintaining an even, unhurried pace as she headed in the opposite direction. Deciding to linger around Baggage Claim Two, she slouched against the shadowed far wall. Why had they taken away her suitcase? Her breath came faster. This had to be some sort of mistake. She had to acknowledge the fact they were looking for her, but couldn't reason why. Authority figures always made her nervous, afraid somehow she'd let out her secret, wished for something without realizing it, and it had appeared. Tee suppressed her rising panic and concentrated on making it out of the airport, to the secure harbor of Claridge's. Ahead of her, a group of noisy, large male teenagers dressed in black sweaters with the slogan Woolton Warriors written in neon green across their chests chatted boisterously. They moved to the exit doors. She pushed in between them, ducked her head, and let them jostle her out to safety. Although a hot cup of tea held the appeal of nectar to a hummingbird, she strode past the Starbucks outlet on her right, kept her head down, and walked towards her normal exit area.

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Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and though tempted to snarl, "Don't touch me—anyone," she managed a modicum of restraint. Another tap. "Excuse me, Mrs. Trent?" She curled her clammy hands into tight fists, and a flare of terror paralyzed every limb, sliding an iceberg down her spine. "Mrs. Trent?" Tee gritted her teeth and answered without turning around, "I beg your pardon?" "Mr. Jake Mathews sent me to pick you up." She swiveled. "How do you know who I am?" "Mr. Mathews e-mailed a photograph of you to our concierge. He arranged everything this morning and gave us your mobile number." The good-looking young man flashed a grin. "When I tried your cell phone, it went straight to voice mail. I spotted you on my way to ask the authorities to page you." A wave of dizziness hit her at the near escape. "May I see some ID?" "Certainly, Mrs. Trent, a wise precaution in these troubled times." The man reached into the front pocket of his uniform, pulled out a laminated square, and held it out. Tee checked the picture against his features. "Thank you." "Most welcome, Mrs. Trent." He waved a hand forward, frowned, and stopped. "No luggage, madam?" A band of fright constricted her chest. "It's on a later flight." She managed, smiled, and rolled her head to one side. Her neck cricked. "Lead the way." 139


Ten minutes later, they wove in and out of the traffic on London's back roads. Tee tapped the glass separating the driver and passenger area. "Yes, Mrs. Trent, do you need something? All the beverages are in the bar area to your right." "Thank you, I'm fine. Is Mr. Mathews at the hotel?" "No, Mrs. Trent, I'm to pick him up early tomorrow morning." "Thank you." "I believe the concierge has more information for you, Mrs. Trent." "Thanks." The glass slid back into place. Tee dug around in her purse. She found her passport and flipped through it, checking the stamped entries. Since she found nothing dated for today, she studied one from her last arrival in London and visualized it in a blank area with today's date. Surveying the results, and wondering if she'd just committed a crime, she deliberated texting Dee and then burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all. Fifty-three minutes later, the concierge himself took Tee to the hotel room. She didn't even have to register. "Mr. Mathews gave us very specific instructions this morning, Mrs. Trent." "This morning?" The concierge opened the door to her room and motioned Tee inside.

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"This is the Davies Penthouse. Welcome." He smiled. "A very thoughtful man, your Mr. Mathews, Mrs. Trent. He called from America early this morning with a few requests." "Was he in Florida, do you know?" Tee asked. "Yes, madam, he mentioned the state. Per Mr. Mathews's request, we turned on the fire. I'm afraid it's gas. London regulations prohibit wood. Your room is to the left, through that door." The hotel spokesman pointed a finger. "Mr. Mathews indicated you should contact me for anything you may need." Tee read the name on the man's badge. "Thank you, Mr. Brown. I appreciate everything you've done." She only relaxed when the door closed behind the concierge. Her sudden burst of energy and good humor vanished like a deflating balloon whirling a crazy expiring splutter. Fatigued unease claimed Tee's mind when she remembered her luggage. She headed for the room designated as hers, and at the door, concentrated on the brown suitcase with its bright red and white strip. Third time in a row, her haphazard conjuring worked. Relieved and not a little proud, her mood shifted, and she grinned at the object and resolved to buy a lottery ticket. A burnished mahogany dresser faced her as she wheeled the suitcase into the room. It held an enormous vase of dusky pink roses. Tee's breath caught. She dropped the luggage and hurried over to the flowers. Touching a finger to the soft downy petals, she inhaled. A heavenly scent, soothing rose with a hint of spicy apricot, her taut shoulder muscles relaxed. She noticed an envelope with 141


her name written on it at the base of the crystal container. Picking it up, she kicked off her stiletto sandals, collapsed onto a chair facing a wall of windows, and read the printed email. Tee, I'm sorry I'm not there to meet you. I had planned to be, believe me. My flight arrives at 4 am tomorrow morning London time. I'll see you for breakfast. Jake P.S. I bribed Brown not to read this email, but couldn't take a chance, that's why it's PG rated. I hope you like the roses. They go by the name, Adam, and are the first tea rose ever discovered, in 1838. The petals reminded me of Harbor Lodge, and you, my sexy witchy woman. Jake Tee traced the last three words with her fingertip. Did they mean he accepted her for what she was, and what did my mean? Theirs was a two-week arrangement. She spotted the PPS and read it. PPS. Go have your bath. You may have to warm the water. I had them draw it ten minutes before you arrived, some of my magic for you. She shook her head, unable to believe Jake arranged all of this, the gestures so romantic and unlike his normal pragmatic style. Tee discarded her top and skirt on the way to the bathroom. A nice, long, relaxing soak and then she'd worry about those men at the airport. 142


Dozens of candles surrounded the huge marble tub suspended three steps above the tiled floor. Her toe test revealed a perfect water temperature. Tee propped the note against the carpeted ledge by the window, took off her underwear, and slid into the water. Lavender needles and pink petals caressed her shoulders. "My sexy, witchy woman." The words waxed poetic against the impersonal "babe". Her eyes drifting again to the note, she re-read it, resting against the foam bath pillow. Not wanting to admit the thrill his actions incited, she mulled over her cotton nightgown, the sexiest lingerie she owned. She'd thrown out everything bought for her honeymoon with Tony. Maybe sexy lingerie was in order. Her gaze wandered, and she noticed a half-filled wine glass and a bottle. The label read Edmeades. She succumbed to sheer pleasure—he'd remembered her favorite wine—and knew in a magic moment, she could love this man. His harsh tone and the words he'd said, "I won't marry you," stiffened her spine and chased the thought into a void. Muttering a rebuke about Cinderella fantasies, she gulped down the wine, determined to remain cool, unemotional. So what if he was the first mortal who accepted her powers? Sex, these coming two weeks revolved around sex. Physical ecstasy, nothing more. A couple glasses of wine later, clean and clad in pink sweatpants and a matching short T-shirt, she jumped when the doorbell to the suite buzzed. When Tee answered it, George Brown, the young concierge, stood there with a FedEx package in his hands. 143


"This just arrived for you." She frowned, but took the package. "Thank you." Only four people knew her location, and that only if her mother told her father of her planned trip. Tee ripped open the package and a red hard-covered book fell onto the plush dove-gray carpet. A single legal-sized yellow sheet followed a dancy path in its wake. She picked up both, glanced at the book's title, and froze, The Perfect Blow Job. Tee gulped and read the note. I called to see if Jake sent the plane ticket, and Tricia told me you had already left for London. The snake's secretary resigned and sent me a box of Tony's papers and this book was in the parcel. I'm not sure if it was a mistake or not, but I thought it'd come in handy (pun intended). Jake's choice of hotel impressed me. Since he already knows you're a witch, you don't have to worry about getting excited and losing control. Go for it cupcake! Love, DeeDee. P.S. Hopefully, I'll need it one day—so keep it sprucy. Tee grinned, a tad light-hearted and giddy. Jake's romantic surprises and Dee's suggestion started her heart a-pounding and sent her hopes eagle-high. She clutched the book to her chest and did a little two-step of joy. Longing to touch Jake's hard, muscled body, but afraid of making mistakes or conjuring strange gladiator-like scenarios, Tee had not let herself dream of exploring this avenue. If she could make Jake feel the way she had on the raft... 144


Skipping to the bedroom, Tee collected the bottle of wine, the goblet, and a blanket and returned to the luxurious living area. Curled up on the overstuffed chair, she took a sip of wine and opened the book to chapter one, titled "Taste, the Long and Hard of It." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Lingerie Lust When the private jet landed at Gatwick, Jake allowed himself to relax. Current London temperatures, according to the pilot's landing announcement, ran cool. He pulled a black sweater over his head, pressed the power button on his cell phone, and checked the service bars. Five, full service. A few stabs and a now-familiar number appeared. He hit the send button. "Mr. Mathews for Mr. Brown, the concierge." The hold music chimed in, and Beethoven's fifth symphony played. Smiling, he leaned back against the headrest and pushed the recline button on the luxurious leather seat. "Mr. Mathews, what can I do for you today?" "Brown, how is Mrs. Trent?" Jake massaged the muscles at the back of his neck. He jerked upright at Brown's answer to his question, shocked to discover the authorities had issued the British equivalent of an APB for Tee. "Does she know about this?" "No, sir. I saw the bulletin before she arrived. Mrs. Trent didn't go through registration. I took her up to the suite myself." A stroke of luck, this man Brown. "Has she left the suite? We landed at Gatwick minutes ago. I'll be there in ... "—Jake checked his watch—"ninety minutes. Don't let anyone know she's in the hotel. I'll handle any repercussions when I arrive. And Brown, you'll be amply compensated." 146


Jake dropped the phone into his pocket, wondering about the reason behind the APB. His actions? Tony's? The fact it even happened signaled danger. Henry obviously didn't know. He considered alerting her father, but abandoned the notion, leery of Tee's reaction. Gatwick immigration authorities let him in the country with no questions, not a hiccup in the boring process. He could only assume it due to an aberration in international communications. The young limo driver maintained a steady, numbing dialogue on the journey to Claridge's. He caught Jake's interest when he described Tee's request for lingerie. "What did she want?" "The proprietor of Agent Provocateur in London made a personal visit to the Davies suite." For the first time in hours, Jake's mind stopped fastforwarding. His shaft throbbed, stiffening into a painful erection. Images of Tee on the raft muddled any logical thought. "How long before we arrive?" "Mere minutes, sir." Jake checked his diver's wristwatch, 2:30 a.m., a full hour and a half earlier than the commercial flight he'd originally booked. Tee would be asleep. "Does Mrs. Trent know I'm coming in earlier than expected?" "Not that I know of, sir." Jake gave George Brown every cash bill in his wallet, resolving to hit the bank later. He waved the concierge off at the entrance to the Davies Suite. "Until I ask, make this suite off-limits to everyone." 147


He peeked into Tee's room. Lingerie of every color, description, and fabric lay strewn across the chair, table, and floor. His witch slept on the bed, a pale blue sheet covering one shoulder, one single perfect breast bared. Excitement and desire thrummed every pore. Depositing his carry-on baggage in the other room, he noticed the lit bar in the living area and meandered back to it. The ice bucket was full. Pouring a stiff Scotch, Jake took a sip and relished the burn of the fiery liquid as it slid down his throat. Even if both Tee and he proved certifiable, he knew no woman had ever affected him like this, couldn't remember the last time he sent flowers to a female, had actively pursued someone. His impulsive phone call to George Brown, the overwhelming desire to protect and cherish Tee, left him adrift, and although he hated to admit it, apprehensive. Needing someone was not part of his life plan. Being successful, independent, even isolated suited Jake. He savored the control he had over his emotions. Tee shattered it. For a second the image of Tee and the child, a little girl with dark curls, teased a circle around his brain. He slumped onto a couch and gulped down the Scotch. Propping his head on his hands, he stared at the carpet unseeing, sifting options. A thud sounded, and a red book bounced off his shoe. Reaching down, he picked up the book and noted a folded yellow sheet of paper sticking out of it. The title forced a 148


muffled laugh from deep in his belly, and lurid scenarios chased away the somber thoughts occupying his brain. Reading through the scribbled handwriting, Jake made a mental note to send Dee a large bouquet of flowers. He flipped to the contents page, and his cock drummed against his belly at the chapter titles, particularly the first one, "Taste, the Long and Hard of It." The vision the words conjured snapped the fierce leash he'd kept on his desire. Jake tiptoed to his bedroom. He showered hastily, dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and walked towards Tee's room and her bed, one thought in mind, sheathing his rampant prick in her silky juices, feeling those muscles milking him. At the foot of the bed, Jake clenched his fists into tight balls and battled the marauding instincts raging inside. He threw off the towel, slid under the sheets, and wrapped his arms around her body. Tee's eyes flew open. "Jake?" When she tried to turn, he tightened his hold on her, savoring her hot, velvety flesh, inhaling her rose-lavender scent, thanking fate for this small glimpse of heaven. "I love your neck," he whispered against her skin. Tee murmured something indecipherable and shivered. "What?" Jake nuzzled her nape and slid his hand up to cup her breast. His cock leaked moisture upon discovering the rosy point stiff, ready. He flicked his thumb across her nipple, and she burrowed her naked bottom against him, her cheeks cradling his throbbing organ. "Kiss me." 149


This time he allowed her to turn around. Their lips met in an explosive yet lazy exchange. "You're naked." He sighed against her mouth. "I couldn't decide what to wear," she confessed. "I wanted to put on something you'd like, but they all felt too trampy." "Naked is perfect. You can model all the stuff for me later, and we'll decide which ones to keep." Jake slipped his tongue into her mouth and cupped her rump. "Wrap your arms around me, Tee. Let me know you want this as much as I do." Her fingers fluttered at the base of his neck. She tangled the other hand in his hair. "I do." Tee nibbled along the line of his jaw. "Hmmm? You smell so good, my wonderful witch." She stiffened in his arms. "What?" Jake drew back and met her eyes. He waited. Tee traced the outline of his lips with a finger. "What does that mean?" "It means you've bewitched me." His voice cracked on the truth inherent in the words. She tugged his head down. Jake let her lead for a few minutes. He remained passive, relishing her tentative explorations. Tee's fingers flickered down his chest, stroking light butterfly touches, as if uncertain of his reaction. Her lips followed in their path, dry kisses turning into hot, wet licks of his flesh. Before her mouth firmed around his turgid nipple, she glanced up at him, pupils so wide her eyes appeared black. 150


"In Barbados, you wanted me to bite." Tee's voice wavered on the last word. "Do it." Jake barely got out the last word, staring at her red, swollen, mouth. Uncertainty dogged Tee's slow-motion descent to his burning skin. The slight grazing of her teeth sawing his nipple gently while her tongue laved it razed what little was left of Jake's control. He teetered, on the brink of ravishment. When her fingers curled around the head of his penis, volatile desire sparked and ignited. "Witchy woman," he croaked. Jake flipped her onto her stomach. He kissed his way down her spine, his hands kneading every inch of exposed, naked, heated Tee skin. He blew a breath over her bottom and licked his way down the center of her cheeks. Her muscles contracted. Jake moved lower and inhaled, the spicy aroma of her excitement unmistakable. His balls tightened. The faint light in the room showed the film of pearly moistness beading her pink lips. He laid his tongue flat against the rim of her folds and sucked. Tee arched up. "Jake." She tried to turn around. He laid his hand on the small of her back and pressed her down. Jake flicked back and forth between her cheeks, all the way up to his hand, and the return journey took a southern diversion as her hips lifted and wriggled following his tongue. "I thought of this all the way here, of imprinting your taste on my tongue, your smell on my nose." He slid a finger in, 151


and she ground against his palm, slick, fiery folds burning. He found the nubbin, that precious spot, and laved it with his thumb and tongue and earned a long moaned, "Oh my." "More, a few more oh mys," he coaxed, transported by her passionate response, approaching heady delirium. "Babe, more, just for me." All the while, he stroked and nibbled, his fingers glossy with her desire, his mouth coated with honey. He toothed her lustrous button, gnawing lightly, and she mewled, "Oh my, oh my." His hold slipped, and her bottom rose higher, saucy rump suspended above the sheets, her glory displayed in the soft lighting, glistening swollen folds, polished dewy pink with desire. "Come inside of me," she pleaded and whimpered when his fingers discovered a new pressure point, which drove her into a taut bow. "Up." Jake's growled command came out harsher than he intended. Her head whipped up, and she stared at him over her shoulder, bafflement clouding her golden eyes. "Pardon me?" "On your knees, babe." Jake's hoarse voice echoed around the room. Tee stiffened as he lifted her into position. "Hold onto the rails of the headboard." She obeyed, her fingers curling around the round bars. He positioned her, his hands shaking with the effort of maintaining a gentle hold on her sweat-slickened flesh. Jake circled the base of her thighs, his thumbs sliding up into hot 152


folds, and he widened her stance and pressed forward. Tee's grip slipped, and she grabbed the cotton sheets in her hands. "I need to be inside you." He rubbed the crown of his cock up and down the center of her folds. "I can't wait, babe. I'm not going to last long. I'll make it up the second time. Promise." A guttural snarl broke from his lips, and he went up in rocket ship flames, reached for her hips, and pulled her back against him. He bucked into Tee's moist tightness, thrusting deep. His finger rubbed against her folds, found the tiny hood, and pinched it lightly. She convulsed against him. "Oh Jesus," Jake groaned. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead onto her back, and he froze, battling the orgasmic race, desperate to prolong the poignant agony. "Again." Tee's soft command shattered all pretense of civilization. He drove long, hard thrusts into her heat. His thumb grazed against her nubbin with each pulsating, hammering penetration, stroking back on his withdrawal and forward on reentry, biting his lip to keep the rhythm slow, even. "Jake, please." She buried her face in the sheets and his angle of penetration deepened. Her legs slipped further apart, he looked down at the juncture of their bodies, the blood rushed to his engorged cock, his balls tightening as his control fried and vanished. He slammed into her, and she met him thrust for thrust, her sexy, throaty cries muffled by the sheets. 153


His world narrowed, his eyes shackled to cock and swollen folds, the delicious friction surged higher with each plunge and retreat until Tee spasmed, milking him. He exploded into paradise. When his brain returned from its journey to his cock and his breathing slowed to labored pants, Jake noticed her allover flush, her skin a rosy, bewitching hue. He ordered his hands to loosen their hold on her hips, but they only tightened, fingers caressing her delectable belly. Their reflection in the dresser's mirror made him want to roar with savage pride. He'd put that glazed look in her eyes. On her elbows, face turned to the dresser, different shades of pink danced across Tee's features. Their eyes met in the mirror, and she groaned before breaking their gaze and shading her face with one hand. "What's wrong?" He stroked the length of her spine, knuckling each vertebra. "You're blushing all over, Tee. Your white lines are a deep pink." Jake outlined the pale triangle on her firm bottom. "Tell me, witchy woman, why are you blushing?" She buried her face into the sheets, and her skin tone turned a shade darker as she mumbled into the cotton. He pulled her up against him, caressed the soft swelling of her breasts, and tongued the side of her neck. "Tell me." Her eyelids drooped closed, and Jake stared at her reflection and willed an answer. "No woman wants a man staring at her rear." "I've never seen anything more erotic in my life." Jake feathered a hand down her back. 154


"Oh." Jake fastened his gaze on her doubtful, surprised eyes. "What's the Trinidadian word for bum again?" "You mean bumsey?" "You have the sweetest, most delectable bumsey I've ever seen. Come here, babe, I need to kiss you." Jake cupped Tee's chin and turned her face to his. He tugged her lower lip down and sucked it in between his. Nibbling along the strong line of Tee's jaw, sprinkling open, wet kisses at the crook of her neck, a sharp aftershock shook her slender frame, and Jake's breath caught in his throat as her muscles clenched around his shaft. Impossibly, he stiffened to half-mast. "My little witch." Jake guided her hand to position it at the base of his cock. "I'm ready again. Are you sore?" A draft from the ceiling fan swept over his flesh. Tee shivered, bit her lip, and ducked her head. He covered her bare shoulders with his palms. Using every ounce of willpower he possessed, Jake eased himself out of her still-spasming heat. He sat back on his heels and slid his arm under Tee's thighs, curling her naked body against his chest. "Speak to me. Tell me what you're thinking." "I know it's ridiculous after what we just did," she muttered. "I'm, um, feeling a little shy." A delightful cherry hue stained her tanned cheeks. Jake flicked his tongue around the whorls of Tee's earlobe, savoring the breathy whimpers he earned by tasting her honeyed skin, the soft velvet texture. He rose, walked over to 155


an enormous armchair, sat, and shifted her into a comfortable position in his lap. Tee covered her shoulders with her hands. "Cold?" Jake searched the immediate area for a blanket or cover. "No, not really." "Then what's wrong?" "I feel naked." He laughed and chucked her chin. "Babe, you are naked." "I've never done this before," Tee whispered. "I'm not sure what to do." "Whatever you want to. These two weeks are for both of us. If you're not sure about something, talk to me. There is no right and wrong in bed. It comes down to what you're comfortable with, what makes you feel good." "You've done this a lot." She stared at a spot on the far wall. "Not as often as you think," he said, sliding his hand over the curve of her cheek so she had to meet his gaze. The shocked expression on her face prompted his grimace. "I've been too busy working to put time into relationships. I don't like my space invaded, so I rarely take anyone home with me. Hell, when you make a million in your mid-twenties, you don't have to work at sex. It comes to you, and you can dictate your terms." Jake stifled a groan, what a stupid, crappy thing to say. Tee's legs shifted with his movements. Her thighs cocooned his erection. "You had terms?" 156


"My way or the highway," he muttered. "Either I put my energy into a relationship or focus it into the business." "I've seen the shots of you with actresses." "Goes with the territory. I made the mistake of pissing off the National Enquirer in my early career. Ever since then, they hound me, and people love to watch someone taken down. I attend the social events essential to the business. It's easier to have a date, allows me to target the individuals I need to contact. If you're by yourself at one of those events, women swarm." "I can imagine." "I'm thirty-four, Tee. I have a past." Her mouth curved into a rueful purse. "And I'm twentyseven, and I have none, sexually, that is. But, this is a start, right?" The thought of anyone else being inside her proved so abhorrent, he ditched it in seconds. It started and ended here, with him. She yawned and cupped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry." "Let's get you back to bed." He shot a sympathetic dart at his erection, and she noticed. "Can you sleep like that?" "I've been doing it for the last four months." She ducked her chin and peeped at him. "Because of me?" "Dead right because of you." He stood, cradling her in his arms, and kissed her while walking to the bed. Settling her in the center, Jake retrieved the pillows from where they'd ended up on the floor. 157


Tee plumped the downy white bolsters in the middle against the burnished headboard and patted the spot next to her. "Want anything? Glass of wine?" "No, thank you." Jake chuckled, remembering her 'pardon me', when he'd ordered her on her knees. He lowered her onto the mattress. "You are so polite, even at the strangest times." "Try living with Tricia and being rude. It doesn't pay," she retorted, her color high, her chin angled. "Believe me, I understand. Let's make a pact—no discussing your mother in bed." "A good idea." Snagging his arm around a warm shoulder and fitting her against his chest, he flipped the covers up and tucked the ends of the material over her curved form. Tee tangled her fingers in his curls. "Are you okay?" She tugged on his hair. "Jake." He looked into her sparkling eyes. "I've never felt better in my life." She brushed her lips against his. He turned the slight caress into a long, tender moment. "Good." "Comfy?" Jake trailed a finger over the underside of her breast. "Do you realize no gladiators or Vikings appeared the last few times we kissed?"

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"Or cupcakes. I hadn't thought about it." She glanced away. "Do you think this means we're safe? Maybe I'm getting used to it." "I can't decide whether to be reassured or affronted by that remark. On the one hand, I'd prefer not to see any more warriors, but on the other, I like the idea I send you out of control." Trying to distract her, Jake ran a finger over her nipple. His brown hand, her pale skin, he swallowed. "I'll give you this—some very strange things have happened to us." "Like Vikings, gladiators, and rose petals?" His biceps tightened under her stroking fingers. "Like hard clumps of cold ice." Jake tugged on a tawny curl. "You could have damaged my vital parts." "Your vital parts seem to be working perfectly." Tee smiled at him. "I have something for you." "A present? I know the kind I want." His suggestive leer tickled her funny bone. She grinned and poked him in the chest. "Douglas Graham sent you something. It's the cutest little pirate's chest. I'm dying to open it. It's very heavy." After-sex languor and cozy camaraderie vanished the minute she mentioned the man's name. He worked his jaw. "Why would your warlock mentor send me something?" "Oh please. He's not trying to put you under a spell or something. You don't have to stiffen up and get angry. Damn, you don't even have to accept it, even though it's your great uncle's." He blinked. "Your Douglas Graham knew my uncle?" 159


"Yes, they're both Scottish, and they both came from the same area. Douglas said the Grahams and the Fergusons have been allies for centuries. Before your uncle died, he gave Douglas a trinket that had been in your family for generations. That's what Douglas sent." Instinctive apprehension gripped him, waging war with a curiosity about his roots so insatiable, he knew in an instant the temptation to examine this trinket would prove irresistible. However, the remarkable coincidences didn't sit well in his stomach. What were the odds of all this happening? A sudden inheritance, his relationship with Tee, her mentor knowing his great uncle? A flash of irritation rocked him, and he ground his teeth. Since meeting her, his world had turned upside down, and he abhorred the uncertainty of it all. Her stomach rumbled, a loud growling noise in the silence, and the sound invaded his thoughts. He hadn't eaten dinner on the plane ride, just munched a few of those tiny sandwiches, which served only to increase the appetite. Food appealed, a big bacon-and-eggs breakfast. "We need to feed you first. Do you want to go downstairs or order room service?" "Downstairs, please. What time does the hotel restaurant open? It's probably too early." "It's seven already." He smirked. "It is true—time flies when you're having fun." The muted sounds of police alarms caught their attention. "Wow, something is happening outside. Do you hear all those sirens? They sound like they're right below us." Tee 160


rolled off the bed, stood up, and shivered. "I'm going to have a quick shower." The doorbell to the suite sounded. Jake's cell phone rang. "You go ahead. I'll take care of the door and the phone." "Mr. Mathews, Mr. Mathews." The voice rattled in time to rapid, hard knocks. Someone sat on the doorbell, and the sudden noise echoed in the dawn's quiet. "Brown, is it you? Hang on a minute." Jake searched the floor and remembered he'd unpacked in the other room. He heard the water running in the shower, slipped out of the bedroom, found his jeans, and dragged them on. He pulled a sweater over his head and opened the door. "Mr. Mathews, I think you need to turn on the television." George Brown's features appeared somber. "Bad news, Brown?" he asked, hiding a smile at his alliteration. "The authorities are on their way up, two men from Scotland Yard. Mrs. Trent's face is all over the news." "They've stepped up the APB?" "Apparently, two men tried to detain her at Heathrow. The BBC is running a video of Mrs. Trent disappearing from a holding cell. Quite remarkable, really. One minute she's there, the next gone." "Thanks for the warning, Brown." "Can I be of further assistance, Mr. Mathews?" Jake's gut clenched. He heard Tee's footsteps behind and rotated. The blasted witch thing popped up every time he relaxed his control. It reminded him of the reasons behind his 161


preferred isolated status, no woman worth the associated emotional dilemma. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Roadrunner Antics The grim expression on Jake's face sent creepy-crawlies snaking up Tee's spine. "What's wrong?" "A couple of Scotland Yard inspectors want to talk to you." Jake turned back to Brown. "Can you escort them to the living room? Mrs. Trent and I will be there in a minute." She tugged at his sleeve. "There's something you need to know." "From the expression on your face, I'm not going to like it, am I?" "Probably not," she answered, her newfound feminine selfconfidence skidding off the map. Anticipating rejection, she gritted out, "When I reached immigration this morning, two men from Scotland Yard took my passport and put me into a tiny room. They were very rude, nasty men. When they weren't watching, I sort of, um, disappeared." She heard his exasperated sigh. "Brown told me. Your face is all over the news. Don't say a word. Let me do all the talking." Clenching her jaw at the tight, angry set of his mouth and the downward slash of those charcoal brows, she followed him into the living area. Her stomach twisted, and horseflies seemed to populate it, gnashing and buzzing at her insides when she saw the same two men from the other morning standing in front of the windows. 163


The older man flashed his ID at them and barked out their ranks and names. He appeared in charge, one Inspector Flood. "We need to see your passport immediately." His tone proved terse to the point of rudeness. "Just a minute, it's in my purse." Shoulders drooping, Tee sighed, walked back to the bedroom, and picked up her handbag. Procrastinating she rocked on her heels, noticed the miniature pirate's chest on the dresser, touched it, and snapped her finger back at once. The damned thing shocked her. She sucked on her fingertip and scowled at the offending object, suddenly uneasy about giving it to Jake. This had to be a misunderstanding, had to. For brief seconds she contemplated her mother's reaction to Scotland Yard interrogating her and shuddered in revulsion. Maybe the time had come to confront Tricia, force her to acknowledge her daughter's peculiarities. Sooner chance of Satan reforming, Tee decided, and returned to the men. "Here you go." She dug in the soft leather bag, found her passport, and held out the burgundy book to the older man. "It's stamped. Everything's correct." Flood shook his head. "The immigration officer swears she never processed your documents. You do remember us from this morning, Mrs. Trent?" "I've never met you before in my life." She lied with a straight face, but a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Jake nudged her with his elbow. She raised her eyebrows. He shook his head, an imperceptible movement. 164


"We detained you at Heathrow this morning." Flood's cheeks flushed a ruddy color, and his thick fingers tightened around the document, knuckles whitening. "We also retained your passport, handbag, and suitcase. Care to explain how they returned into your possession?" "I don't know what you're talking about." A bead of perspiration trickled a slow path between her breasts. "How did you get here?" "A limousine from Claridge's picked me up at the airport. You can check with the hotel if you like." She flicked a piece of imaginary lint off her sage sweater, avoiding their direct gaze. "Switch on the television," Flood ordered his younger counterpart. "There's an interesting piece on the BBC. We have proof of where you were this morning. Unassailable evidence you were in our custody earlier today." He checked his watch. The younger man hunted for the remote, found it on the coffee table, and pressed the power button. For a moment, his glance landed on the red book lying next to it, and he shot Tee an amused glance. Her whole body flamed. She grabbed the book, intending to bury it in her purse, but Jake reached over, tugged it out of her hands, and set it on the bar behind him. A slow, sensual smile swallowed his previously grim expression, and he quirked one eyebrow. His heated gaze warmed her clammy skin, and her rigid stance relaxed. Jake's charcoal eyes glinted reassuring approval and he dipped his chin a notch. 165


The television's volume startled Tee, and the flat panel screen on the wall drew her attention. A voice droned. "Authorities are asking anyone who knows of this woman's whereabouts to contact them immediately." The film clip showed her standing near a metal chair, flanked by the two men who stood before her now. Flood's bulk hid most of her from view, but the camera caught her face flushing with color for brief moments, the anger lighting her features unmistakable. For mere seconds the camera lens caught her features at an awkward angle, then nothing, only the two detectives. Tee stifled a chortle as the video continued, and the men stared at each other with cartoon-like, outraged, and bewildered grimaces. Each man wore Wile E. Coyote's dumbfounded expression from the old Road Runner Looney Tunes series. "Explain." Inspector Flood's ruddy cheeks and jowls grew fire-engine red. "Maybe your equipment's faulty?" She chewed her lower lip and racked her brain for a plausible explanation. "That sort of thing only happens in the movies, not in real life." "Gentlemen, are you here to arrest Mrs. Trent?" Jake interrupted. Tee's eyebrows flew up to her hairline at his pugnacious tone and astounding question. "Why would anyone want to arrest me?" "We're investigating your husband's criminal activities, Mrs. Trent, and we're here to determine the level of your involvement." 166


"What? Tony? Jake, what's going on?" She swallowed several times as her stomach rebelled, sending bile up her throat, and she managed to subdue the urge to snatch a tissues and mop the damp spot between her breasts. "This has gone far enough." Jake cupped a hand under Flood's elbow and shoved him in the direction of the door. The inspector smacked his arm away. "Repeat that action, and you'll be a guest of the British government indefinitely." "I believe we're entitled to have our attorney present during an interrogation. Unless you're planning to arrest Mrs. Trent, I'll have to ask you to leave." Jake waved his hand in the direction of the door. "The only reason this woman isn't under arrest right now is because of a request from the prime minister of Trinidad and Tobago. My superiors expected full co-operation from her. I can assure you they won't be pleased with my report." With each sentence he barked, Flood's complexion grew more apoplectic. "We're finished." Jake folded his arms across his chest. "Either produce a warrant for Mrs. Trent's arrest or leave. Now." "We will be back with the required paperwork. You can count on it," Flood warned. As soon as the door clicked shut, Tee deflated on a long audile sigh, one knee wobbling. "I don't understand." She collapsed onto the sofa hugging her arms. "They suspect me of being involved with Tony stealing your money?" 167


She raised her face to his and saw the answer written in those dark pools and the sympathetic curve of his mouth. "My mother is going to explode. And what will this do to Dad? Can't you simply tell them it's not true?" Indeed, why hadn't he? Annoyance had her fingertips tingling, and she drummed them on the side table, her lips flattening. "If I thought that would work, I would. Hell, several things happened when I returned to Florida. That's the reason for my delay. I didn't want to get you involved, but it appears the fact you were Tony's wife means the authorities have assumed some sort of de facto collusion. It's standard procedure, Tee." He slumped down and captured her hands, squeezing lightly. "For the record, I don't for a second think you're involved. I know you're completely innocent. My lawyer and I are beginning to believe Tony may have been murdered." Her mouth twisted. "I can certainly believe that one. If he could consider killing me, then it only follows the reverse is true. What did he do? What happened in Florida?" "Hell, it's complicated. You're hungry and so am I. Why don't we order room service, and I'll tell you everything?" All of a sudden, a bleak expression claimed his features, the one that rubber-banded her chest. She leaned forward, tunneled her hand into his sable curls, and planted a soft kiss on his mouth, tasting in tender flicks, letting him know he could depend upon her. Tugging his lower lip between hers, Tee broke the caress, gazed into those Amazon dark waters, and whispered, "You're 168


in danger of losing your company, and I'm concerned about what my mother will think about a stupid news flash. I'm sorry I was so selfish. Don't worry about me, Jake. Focus on your business. I know how much it means to you, how much a part of you it is." He opened his mouth, and the doorbell buzzed in short, stabbing bursts. They both glanced in the direction of the irritating noise, which continued unabated. Jake lurched to his feet with a barked expletive. "It's Grand Central Station here today," he growled as his long strides consumed the distance to the suite's entrance. "If that's Flood, I'm calling the American ambassador and your father pronto." He opened the door and ducked to avoid the fist slamming towards his chin. Tee shot to her feet at the sight of an enraged, scowling man crowding the doorway. She reached for the phone realizing at that instant she didn't know the British equivalent of 911, never having needed it during her boarding school days. Flicking her eyes between the information to the side of each phone button and the two men, she caught the word concierge, grabbed the receiver, jabbed the knob, and spun around to see if the situation had worsened. "Calm down, Alex. Check your fists at the door, blast it. Hell, buddy, I had to knock you out to protect you." Jake rubbed his jaw. "Mrs. Trent, did you require something?" She recognized the clipped English accent. "Hang on a moment, Mr. Brown." Tee clamped the receiver to her sweater. "Jake, should I have security sent up?" 169


"No," he replied, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to the stranger. "It was for the better." After a quick murmured apology to the concierge, she replaced the phone, her gaze locked onto the two men. "That's a pile of horse manure, and you know it. Don't think you've gotten away with it. When you least expect it, retribution will be mine." The man pushed his way into the suite. He caught sight of Tee, and his expression brightened. He winked at her and stalked forward, his blue eyes blazing fire. "What are you doing here?" Jake asked as the two men shoulder-battled for first position. "The Colombian general was shot and killed yesterday." The man threw the words over his shoulder, and he edged in front of Jake. His intense stare never left her. "Jake?" She eyed the hunk approaching her and took a couple of steps backwards. "Alex, meet Tee. Tee, this is Alex, my attorney and a friend." Jake and his friend stopped in front of her. Tee held out her hand. She took stock of the stunning, baby-faced male in front of her. His good looks were a combination of Brad Pitt and George Clooney, but better in a corporate executive way. Alex's warm brown hair streaked with premature gray strands contrasted with the ice in his startling cobalt eyes. He stood two inches above Jake's six feet and had a leaner, tauter frame. Alex brought her palm to his mouth and kissed it. When he smiled at her, the frost in his eyes dissolved into a warm, devilish twinkle. 170


"Back off, she's off-limits." Jake seized her had and held it firmly. "Tee and I are dating exclusively, isn't that so, babe?" 'Back to the impersonal babe. Tee nodded, but wondered about the way he'd phrased the statement. Alex snorted. "I don't see a ring on her finger. She's fair game." He waved his hand in front of Jake's face. "My cell phone, please." "It's on the dresser in the bedroom," he said and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. Alex sauntered out of the room whistling the first stanza of the William Tell Overture. "Those men didn't give me back my passport," she blurted, and the impact of the detectives' action compressed her rib cage, squeezing the air out of her lungs. "That's not good, is it? Can they do that legally?" "I don't know. Alex may be able to answer that. Let me bring him up to date." He put an arm around her waist, drew her close, and dropped a kiss on her temple. A tuneful whistled rendition of the Star Wars' theme preceded Alex's return to the living area. Blue eyes swept from Jake to Tee, one rust-tinged eyebrow rose, and he quipped, "What's up?" Jake summarized the situation for his friend. "Can we do anything? Make them return her passport?" "Afraid not. The long years of IRA terrorism expanded the power of Scotland Yard. Currently, the authorities can do almost anything if they have a reasonable suspicion. We can petition the return of the document, but that might stir up a 171


hornet's nest. I'd advise lying low for the time being. Sorry." He flashed a bone-melting, crooked smile at her. "Oh my," she said, a little bemused by the man's charisma. Easy to decipher this man loved women, no adored them, he radiated sexual awareness. "That's mine," Jake mumbled. "Pardon me?" He had a nice ass too, but his thighs couldn't compete with Jake's. "Do you mind?" Jake pressed a thumb on her chin, swung her face back to his, and kissed her, hard. A dry, amused cough broke them apart. "Excuse me, children, but I didn't fly over ten thousand miles to watch you two play house." "Shut up, Alex. We'll finish our conversation later, Tee." He twirled around. Since when had a kiss become conversation? She stared at his back and the rigid line of his spine. "It's my turn to bring you up to date." Alex slumped onto an overstuffed armchair and clipped the cell phone to his belt. "Tee doesn't know any of what happened when I returned to Florida." Jake's fists unclenched, and he faced them. "Let's get her up to scratch first. You begin. I need a cup of coffee." "Bring one for me. Tee, would you like one too?" "Yes, please. Thank you for asking, Alex." She smiled at him. Jake glared at his friend. He left the room and returned a few minutes later carrying a tray bearing a carafe of coffee and three china cups in their saucers. Two teacups tilted, and 172


the glass coffee jug listed when he dropped the tray an inch from the table. "Temper, temper. Tee, sweetheart, why is he pouting?" Alex's ocean blue orbs twinkled and his full lips twitched. He clearly enjoyed baiting his friend. He dropped three cubes of sugar into the cup, the spoon tinkled against the china as he stirred, and, his lawyer's training evident, he gave them a concise summary of events. "Thank you," Tee murmured, accepting the teacup Jake proffered. She frowned and cocked her head to one side. "Marked bills? And why now? Months after his death? A while back, you said that the money in Antigua was Tony's, why, if it was a business account?" "Tony invested over four million in cash to the business. We divided the money between Florida and Trinidad. Technically, the entire four mil belonged to him, but two mil was the price of the partnership. We structured our agreement so future revenue belonged to the operation that generated it." "You mean you kept all the money from Florida and vice versa?" she asked. "Precisely." "Not to interrupt, but I uncovered the source of the discrepancy in bank accounts. There were two with the same account number." "Hell and damnation. How is that possible?" "This offshore bank had an interesting premise. Each bank account could be broken into two, one for interest bearing only, and one for transactional processing. Theory behind this 173


is to maintain maximum revenue generation. Receive a large deposit, throw it into the interest bearing for as long as you can hold onto it, and then switch the cash to the transaction only when you need it." Alex quirked an eyebrow. "Perfect setup if you want to hide things from a partner, wouldn't you say?" "That can't be legal." "According to the fine print of the agreement the bank sent to me, it is, if all signers on the account are informed of that fact. The agreement I okayed, the one you e-mailed to me, didn't have that clause in it. On the one you signed, the clause is there, and your initials are right next to it." "Blast," Jake said and thumped the teacup in his hand onto the coffee table so hard liquid splashed all over. "Tony planned this carefully." Numbness set in, and she swept her eyes between the two men. "From the beginning. When did you two go into partnership?" "Officially, a little over six weeks before you two married." "I'm not business oriented, but it seems to me, and I'm probably off base here, but Tony became your partner for the sole purpose of hiding his money-laundering activities, and maybe he was trafficking drugs on the side, and that got him killed by one of the colleagues he probably cheated." Both men stared at her as if she were a pink-striped rhinoceros. "What? It seems like common sense." "You catch on quickly. Sure you're attached to this ugly mutt?" Alex inclined his head in Jake's direction. "Beauty, brains, and Vegas showgirl legs, you have all the luck." 174


He addressed Jake, but his sparkling eyes strolled up Tee's bare legs revealed by the flounced gypsy skirt she'd hastily pulled on. Heat crawled along the skin his eyes traversed, and she cut Jake a sideways glance. His glowering features sent pygmy darts flying Alex's way. Her lips twitched. "Blow it out your ear, and get back to the point," he growled. "Is Tee in trouble? Immigration detained her at Heathrow this morning. Any idea why?" "One of my sources said that Tony's file is still open, which means they have loose ends to tie up, maybe related to other investigations." "But, Tony's dead, why would they bother with him?" "Maybe they don't believe he's dead, or it could be—" Alex broke off and raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jake. "Graziella?" At his friend's surreptitious nod, he continued, "Go ahead, she knows some of it." "I know what?" The room seemed to have its own barometric pressure, and it constricted her breathing. "I received new information on Tony and Graziella before I left. Tony and Graziella have known each other from childhood, and they may have been married." "I don't understand." Her head buzzed and the beginnings of a headache throbbed behind her left pupil. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Jake draped an arm over her slouching shoulders and dragged her close. His lips brushed her temple, and he whispered, "Easy, easy. Breathe." She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until then. 175


"Want a minute?" Worry bedeviled his onyx eyes, and he held her gaze searchingly. She shook her head. "Alex," she said and turned to face him. "Tell me everything. I need to know." "We can't find any record of Tony's parentage. Let me first say, all of this is speculation based upon a birth certificate, a driver's license he obtained at sixteen, and a marriage register in a village church, which shows them tying the knot around that time. The photo ID is positive, though, unless Tony had a twin." Jake twined his fingers with hers and gave a quick, reassuring squeeze. "How? Where?" "They both grew up in the same rural village in Uruguay. The priest in charge of the parish back then is dead, so technically no one can authenticate the marriage." Her forehead throbbed, and she knuckled the skin there. "You knew about this?" "Not until I checked my e-mail last night when I arrived in London." A corner of Jake's mouth lifted, and he shrugged. "I didn't think it was the right time to tell you." "I see," she said and tried to hide her irritation. "When would have been the right time?" "Daylight, much like now." "Does this mean he and I were never married?" "Right now, there isn't enough evidence to support that. Sorry." Alex stood, dug balled fists into the small of his back, ambled over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and tugged the 176


blinds covering them open. "What a quagmire. The only positive I get out of this is, legally, no one has anything on either of you." She stared at the windowpane. A gray rainy day, it matched her mood. "What do I do now? They said they were coming back with a warrant for my arrest." Tee stared at Jake. "Isn't it strange? Homeland Security wants your passport, Interpol wants to talk to you, but the only one they want to arrest is me? It makes no sense." "Jesus, she's right, Alex. It doesn't add up. We're missing something in all this, some fact that fits all these pieces together." "Like why did he marry Tee in the first place?" "I can't help you there, I'm afraid. I have no clue, and I was the one who said, 'I do.'" Raindrops struck the glass, setting up a low, steady drumroll. The teacup rattled in its saucer as Jake placed it on the table; his face wore a grim, foreboding expression. "Tee, consider your father may know about the news flash. Remember what the inspector said. A diplomatic request came to them from Trinidad. Maybe we should give Henry a call?" "No," she said. "I am handling this on my own. Alex, can you represent me if they do take me into custody?" "Unfortunately, no. But I do have a couple of good friends here who can, and they're top men. I'll leave voice mails for them now." "Thank you." 177


Alex flipped open his phone and presented his profile to them. Jake brushed her lips with his, once, twice, his sable eyes boring a promise into hers. Alex coughed, and she jumped, color flooding her face. Her stomach rumbled loudly. The sound resonated in the room. "Let's get you fed, little lady." Alex grinned at her. "Stop flirting with her," Jake admonished. "Room service?" Alex suggested, his crooked smile making her sigh and roll her shoulders. "We can brainstorm and eat at the same time. We need a plan of action. I suspect the Scotland Yard officers were bluffing, so I see no reason they'll return, but there are simply too many coincidences for my liking." Alex fingered the collar of his shirt, undid the top button, and tugged his tie loose. "Tony's the catalyst in all of this. Why did he marry you? Why was Graziella in Trinidad? How are they connected to all these events?" "Food first, then we can speculate." Jake pressed the send button on his cellular. "Mr. Brown, can you provide us with a hot breakfast? Bacon, eggs, and some toast. There are three of us." He paused when Tee held up her hand. "Hang on." Jake covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "What?" "Could you order a full English breakfast with kippers? They're my—" "Favorite." He cut her off with a smirk and relayed her wishes to the concierge, and then dropped the phone onto the table. Scraping a thumb over the stubble on his chin, he mused. "Now that I think about everything, Tony's convenient death seems suspicious." 178


"He was on the way to Venezuela with another friend. Tony liked gambling on cockfights." She shuddered. The doorbell sounded. Alex shrugged off his blue Ralph Lauren blazer. When Tee got up to open the door, she heard his whispered words. "No wonder you visited Trinidad once a week. She's lovely, Jake. Elegant, poised, almost regal. Not a hair out of place. I approve—she could hold her own in Palm Beach society." "I'm thrilled." Jake's tone dripped sarcasm. "She does trick riding, buddy. Let me tell you, she may look like the perfect simpering princess, but she's fearless. She turned a somersault off a moving horse and landed as if it were the easiest feat in the world." Out of the corner of one eye, Tee caught Alex's complexion blanching, and he murmured, "A moving horse. They're nasty animals. I rode one once, a cruise day thing. The damned creature bit my ass. Why on earth would she want to get near such an animal?" "I'll tell you about it later. Shush." Jake's voice held a hint of pride. Her entire body lit up. If she could've done a two-step without drawing their attention, she would have. Tee surrendered to the broad grin chasing her lips. Two waiters wheeled in the room service cart. While they fussed about it, she went to wash her hands in the bathroom. Passing through the bedroom, she caught sight of the miniature pirate chest and grabbed it from the dresser. Her hands prickled, and a pins and needles sensation ran from her 179


fingertips to her elbows. Balancing the chest on her palm, she returned to the living area, uneasy, but determined to follow Douglas's instructions, and placed the heirloom on the breakfast table next to Jake's plate. "Here, this is what Douglas Graham sent for you. Careful, it's quite heavy." Jake picked up the small trunk and turned it in his hands. "You're right, it's heavy." "I never knew your great-uncle, but Tricia did. Maybe she's seen it before. I'll ask her about it when I see her again." She hesitated and then asked, "Does it make your hands tingle?" He frowned and shook his head. "Not at all." "Let me see it." Alex held out his hand. Jake dropped the chest into his open palm. Her stomach rumbled as she lifted the silver dome off a covered plate, and the smell of bacon and eggs filled the room. Tee opened another covered dish. "Mmmm, kippers." Jake groaned. "Fish first thing in the morning—you're one crazy woman." Hunger drove them all into a comfortable silence. For the first ten minutes, the conversation centered upon the food and the condiments. The tinkling of cutlery on china, and the murmur of contended munching mingled with the patter of rain against the picture window. "That hit the nail on the head. I feel a helluva lot better." Jake patted his stomach. "More coffee?" "Actually, I prefer tea. Would you pass the teapot please?"

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Alex took three croissants out of the breadbasket, frowned at a cinnamon raisin bagel, and said, "What the heck, I'm still hungry." Tee's cell phone rang just as Alex finished the last of his bagel. She glanced at the LCD display. "It's Dad, damn, damn, damn. I wanted to handle this before he heard about it." She edged forward on the seat. "Stay here." Jake kept her hand in his and refused to let her move away. "Hi, Dad." She squeezed her eyes shut. Tricia. "Oh, it's you, Mother. Why are you using Henry's phone?" A haloed chill encased her, descending inch by inch with each syllable her mother elucidated. She'd always known it would come to this. "I see." Every ounce of blood drained to her toes, and Tee's knuckles whitened as her grip tightened on the metallic silver telephone, listening to her mother's icy, contemptuous words. When she physically cringed, Jake tried to grab the phone from her. Tee swiveled away from him, jumped to her feet, and walked to the window, her spine finishing-school straight, every vertebra in perfect alignment. "Of course, Mother, I understand." Her voice wavered. "I know it's always been Henry's dream. I promise you, I won't get in the way of his appointment." Alex mouthed, "What's happening?" 181


Jake shook his head and put a finger to his lips. In the silence that followed, she swiped at the moisture on her cheek. "I know you're taking an enormous risk for me. Thank you for the warning, Mother. I'm happy to hear the press will be silent about my arrest." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Doubtful Magic Tee stared out the window, her shoulders rounded, her head hanging. The phone fell onto the sofa. Jake crossed his hands over her flat stomach and kissed the tail end of her eyebrow. "Alex, give us a moment, will you?" He waited until the bedroom door closed and then turned Tee around to face him. Her cheeks were wet. He resisted the urge to call her mother an ice-veined bitch, swept her into his arms instead, walked to the sofa, and settled her across his thighs. She reached over to the tissue dispenser on the table, grabbed a couple, and dried her cheeks. Jake stroked up and down her spine and pulled her head onto his chest. "Want to talk about it?" "Scotland Yard is on their way to arrest me." She hiccupped. "The prime minister withdrew his support and ordered my dad to do the same. I forgot—you don't know. Before I left Trinidad, Tricia told me the prime minister will appoint Henry the next president of Trinidad and Tobago. He'll be invested in a few weeks." Jake whistled. "An impressive way to end a career. Although the rumors were rampant, and Henry is so perfect for the job, I'm not surprised. Everyone expected the announcement."

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"It's been my dad's dream." She crushed the tissue in her hands. "The Trinidad government is no longer preventing my arrest. Mother warned me they'll waste no time." The decision made without a nanosecond's hesitation, Jake hugged her, and knew he'd do anything to protect this woman. When she'd told him to put the business ahead of her, clarity dawned; he could always build another business, another fortune, but would he ever find another Tee? Did he even want to? "Then we have to move quickly. You have my support, babe. Between Alex and me, we'll keep you safe until we can prove you're not involved in Tony's schemes." He brushed his mouth across her lips. "We'll talk more about this later. Right now we have to get moving." Jake stood up and let Tee slide down his body to the floor. He kissed the tip of her nose. "Come on back, buddy." He raised his voice so Alex could hear him in the other room. "What's up?" Jake's summarized the situation. "Count me in. Heck, an adventure." He rubbed his palms together. "We're on the lam, Mathews, the wrong side of the law. My partners are going to fall over their asses when this breaks. Now, what's our plan of attack?" "Lay low until we can prove Tee innocent. I can get Brown to keep mum about us leaving the hotel, I think, but we can't involve him in anything else." Jake paused. "I gave him all my cash yesterday. How much do you have?" "You know me, exactly under the limit to have to declare anything, just under 10K, mostly big bills, but we can change 184


them cautiously. Obviously, from now on we can't use any credit cards." Alex frowned. "Though I should mention, the firm owns a two-bedroom condo near Knightsbridge. I did the purchase contract, though, so my name is all over it." "Then we can't use it." Jake kissed Tee and smacked her bottom. "Go pack, witchy woman, for me too. Where's your luggage?" "Um, I have money too. Almost as much as Alex," Tee said as she headed in the direction of the bedroom. "Brown has my carry-on in the lobby. We need to leave the city quietly." "I know, but where should we go?" He rubbed his chin with his thumb. "I had planned to go to the property in Scotland, but we can't rent a car." "No, and I think the cab ride would prompt notice. Wonder how much it costs to take a taxi to Scotland?" "I'm not sure you could even get one to do that," Tee said as she propped the two carry-ons against the side of the sofa. "And you're right, someone would notice. I know where we can go. My nanna left me a cottage up north in a small town. You can reach it by train." They spun around to face her. "It wasn't mentioned specifically in the will. Douglas told me about it three weeks ago." "Douglas again," Jake said, reacting with raised hairs to another blasted coincidence. "Tee, at some time we have to discuss him."

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"Who is this man?" Alex demanded. He shot a glance at the table. "The one who gave you the miniature chest. Exactly how did that come about?" "Later." Jake waved a hand. "Where is this cottage?" "Near Almwch, in northern Wales. The cottage is on a farm." "Perfect." Alex smacked his hands together and grinned. "We'll need to take the Tube. I've never been on it before. Why on earth do they call the subway the Tube?" "Picture it underground. It looks like a cylinder, or tube. That's how it earned the nickname." Tee smiled. "Officially, it's the London Underground." The sound of sirens grew louder. "We have to leave now." Jake grabbed his cell phone off the table. "Let's take the stairs." On the way down, he phoned Brown and asked him to meet them at the ground floor staircase with Alex's suitcase. George escorted them to the staff exit. "The Yard arrived five minutes ago, sir. They're on their way up to your suite. I had a fellow employee tinker with the lifts—both are stuck on the third floor. By the time they figure it out, you should be at the train station." "You're a good man, Brown." Jake clapped him on the shoulders. "I'm afraid I'm flat out of cash, but as soon as things settle down, I'll make sure you're well compensated." "Actually, Mr. Mathews, my mum's a Graham. My Uncle Douglas asked me to take good care of you. No compensation is necessary, although it certainly won't be refused. Good luck." 186


Dazed, Jake shook Brown's hand. "Thank you, George Brown." It took them the rest of the day and well into the night, but they finally reached the cottage deeded to Tee by her nanna. They took a taxi from the station to the farm, and when they paid the cab, Jake relaxed on a long exhale. After the vehicle departed, the three of them stood in silence, surveying a red-bricked two-story building lit almost orange by a waning sun. Set amidst rolling emerald hills, the farmhouse dominated a long, graveled driveway. "I don't call this a cottage." Alex scratched his cheek. "It's not what I expected." "It's a helluva lot better than I thought. Tee, you do have keys to the house?" She tiptoed and whispered in his ear, "I don't need any." Jake groaned He bussed her lips and patted her rear end. "Go on, you explore the house. Alex, let's get the lay of the land." The sun hovered above the horizon; a faint red ball misted by white clouds smudged a rusty brown here and there. The crisp country air held a hint of manure and freshly cut grass. "I hate to say it, but this is lovely. And this from a confirmed city boy. The air smells so clean. From this hill, the view is all meadows and trees, not another building in sight. A perfect hideout, but how the hell are we to prove Tee's innocence in the middle of nowhere?" He threw his hands up in the air. 187


At this point, keeping Tee's powers secret worried Jake more than the authorities. A lawyer like his best friend wouldn't accept conjuring as readily as he had. Had he? "Let's go see what she found." The front door stood open. Inside they found a cozy living room with a few chairs, a sofa, and an oversized armchair. To the right of a stone fireplace, a wire basket held a stack of logs. Alex's eyes gleamed. He rubbed his hands together. "I'd forgotten what a pyromaniac you are. Actually, it's not a bad idea to start a fire—the sun's setting." Jake grinned at his friend. "Go ahead, buddy, I can see you're dying to burn the house down." "Aye, aye, sir." Alex saluted him. He surveyed the room again, and a slow, spine-tingling recognition and realization set in. The pieces matched the furniture at Greenbriar to a T. All the muscles in his back clenched, setting off an ache across his shoulder blade. Jake rolled his arms backwards, and he jumped when Tee spoke. "Dinner should be ready soon," she said, wiping her hands on an apron while standing in an open doorway. In the process of turning to face her, Jake tripped over his own two feet. "You cooked?" He choked on the last word. "Sort of." Tee lowered her voice and glanced at Alex, who whistled Beethoven's Fifth as he built a pyramid of logs for the fire. "I figure it's best if we don't go into town, so I sort of wished everything." "Sort of?" Jake glared at her. 188


"I don't know why you're angry. This helps us." She bit her lower lip, but stuck out her chin. "I'm right, and you know it." He hugged her and whispered in her ear, "I'm not angry, simply worried about Alex finding out. We'll pretend you asked for the house to be prepared for your arrival. Can you really cook?" He chucked her chin up and met her eyes. She shook her head. "I thought so. Alex doesn't know that, so he'll believe you can." "Break it up, you two." Alex waved his hand between them. "I'm hungry, and I could use a shower. I've been in these clothes for too long." He sniffed the vicinity of his armpit. "I'm sure I smell." Tee's lips curved. "There are three bedrooms upstairs, one with a bath and a shower attachment, another with a mini North American shower, the other bedroom has neither," she volunteered. "There's soap and shampoo and all the necessities. Douglas had the house prepared for me." She glanced at Jake and cocked her head to one side, the question, Did I do right, inherent in the motion. And it charmed him almost as much as when she crinkled her nose. "I can hardly wait. I hope the hot water works." Alex's eyes narrowed at Jake's barked laugh. He arched a brown eyebrow. "How long before we eat?" "Half an hour," she replied. "Jake, why don't you have a shower as well? I'll have mine when you two are finished." "Sounds like a plan to me. Come on," Alex urged. "The sooner we're clean, the sooner we eat." 189


The men took the stairs two at a time. Jake found the shower first, stripped, and stepped into the coffin-like stall. It was so narrow his elbows hit the clear plastic when he lathered his hair. Two fluffy towels lay on the washstand. He dried his skin and stalked to the bedroom. "I hate it when you do that." Alex lounged on the bed, feet and chest bared, hands clasped under his head. "Ever since I can remember, you always found everything first. I'm not complaining, mind you. That uncanny instinct of yours always hones in on the most liable outcome." "It got me into trouble with the SEC when I first started out," he drawled. "But, they couldn't prove insider trading. You knew no one at either company." "Thank God." He whipped the towel off his hips and pulled a fresh pair of black jeans out of his carry-on. "By the way, clear out of this room after you're done. Tee and I are staying in here." "I saw that crap bathtub in the other room with that little hose attachment. Women love to take baths, and I couldn't fit into that thing if I tried." "Cut it. This is ours." "I hope you left some hot water," Alex grumbled as he marched to the bathroom. Surprised by his good spirits and optimism, Jake slipped silently down the stairs. With all that had happened, he should be miserable and irritated, but Tee awaited, and nothing else mattered. 190


At the bottom of the staircase, he halted, and stood, arms akimbo, surveying the cozy dining area. An open a bottle of Edmeades Zinfandel sat to one side of a square table. Onyxcolored bowls filled with creamy pink soup rested on bluegreen plates. A wicker-weaved basket holding slices of French bread filled the center of the table. Humming a little off-key, Tee closed her eyes and stuck her hands out about chest high, holding them as if there was something between them. As he watched, a tulip-shaped vase filled with cheerful white daisies with large yellow centers materialized in her grip. She inspected the floral arrangement for a second, cocked her head to the side, and wispy fern fronds sputtered up between the flowers. For a second, it seemed like they were filming an episode of Charmed or Bewitched. Arms dropping, hands balling, Jake gulped, and took a deep inhale. Squeezing his eyes shut didn't make any difference. When he opened them again, Tee'd finished the table, adding parsley curls to the soup bowls, wine glasses in front of each place setting. Un-curling his clenched fists, Jake tamped down the waterfall of uncertainty threatening the dam he'd built so carefully, by reminding himself, he only intended a brief affair with the woman, nothing permanent. For the first time, he let the thought form. Did like attract like? Alex thought he had a knack for finding things. He wondered what his buddy would think if he told him the truth. When he started up the stairs earlier, the whole layout of the second floor flashed through his mind. He knew the location 191


of every room, every object. It had always been like that. When Jake realized the phenomenon didn't happen for everyone else, he immediately secreted it. Being an orphan was difference enough to deal with; he didn't need to advertise his weirdness to anyone, even Alex. Tee turned around and squealed when she saw him standing at the foot of the stairs. A delectable blush stained the ridges of her high cheekbones, and he had a desperate need to taste her, hold her. "Are you annoyed with me? It's just a few flowers to cheer up the place." She set the vase in the middle of the table and wiped her hands on the gypsy skirt. Jake shook his head and ate up the distance between them. He pulled her into his arms, and she quickly relaxed against his chest. "No, witchy woman, I'm not angry. But, don't conjure up anything too terrific, or Alex will become suspicious." He slanted his lips over hers. Tee rose on tiptoes to return his kiss, and she wound her hands around his neck. His tongue swirled in her mouth, savoring the velvet of their caressing tongues, her panted response. "You and I are sleeping in the same bed tonight, babe. Don't think otherwise." Her pupils dilated, shadowing the amber of her eyes. "On the way here, I decided if I'm going to be arrested, I may as well take advantage of every freedom while I have the chance. You tasted me two nights ago. Tonight, I want to taste you." 192


Savage barbarity had him lifting her thighs, cupping her delicious ass, and grinding his raging erection against her mound. He breathed into her mouth. "Damn, Tee, I don't know if I can make it to the bedroom." "Ahem, children, Uncle Alex is back in the room. I'd give you a few minutes, but I'm starving, and that food on the table will be cold by the time you're finished." Stifling a vulgar expletive of where Alex should stick his head and his presence, Jake slid Tee down the length of his body. She clung to him, hands killer-tight on his biceps, and raised passion-glazed, unfocused eyes to meet his. "Is that chocolate I smell?" He groaned aloud, and she stiffened in his arms, pushing against his chest. "Isn't Tee great? She whipped up a batch of little cakes for dessert." A stretch, but plausible, Jake took a swift survey of the room and almost collapsed with relief. Regular room, no rose petals, and one better, no little chocolate cupcakes, he cricked his neck right and left. "Where on earth did you find fresh flowers, sweetheart?" Alex walked around the two of them and pulled out a chair from the dining table. "You made everything," Jake whispered in her ear. "Got that?" She nodded against his chest and shrugged out of his arms. Striding to the stairs, she answered, "I found them in a little garden in the back." "Where'd you put the roses?" 193


Jake spun around. Sure enough, a carpet of dusky pink rose petals circled the spot where they'd stood. Coloring to match the hue of the petals, she muttered, "In my bedroom." "Hah, her room's the last one," Alex said, quick on the uptake. "Then I claim the room with the shower. "I wish you joy of it," Jake snapped. "I won't be too long. There are plate warmers, and the food's covered, so it should be okay." She jogged up the steps, fists pumping. "Do you think she'd mind if we had the soup? It's bound to be cold by the time she comes back." "Yes, and trust me, it won't. It'll be the perfect temperature." "Well, she won't miss any of these cupcakes. There's dozens of them." "And more coming," Jake grumped. Alex popped one of the round two-inch morsels into his mouth, blue eyes widening as he chewed, and he snagged another. His tongue, darkened by the chocolate, licked a flick of icing off his top lip. His hands circled around enough of the cakes to sum to a thick cake slice. "Christ, a chocoholic's heaven. How does she make 'em firm on the outside and liquid in the middle? We could make a fortune from these." Contemplating the results of anyone unearthing the secret manufacturing process, cynicism curved Jake's mouth. "Believe me, you don't want to go there." 194


"What's eating you? The woman's a gem. Crap, if you don't want her, set her free. I'll be there in a second. It's not as if we haven't traded before." Jealous fury flattened his mouth and had black spots dancing before his eyes. Hands clamped over hips, he squinted at his best friend. "Read my lips, Alex Mayfield. You touch her, you're dead." The barked threat halted Alex's actions and his brown eyebrows flew to the ceiling. "You have it bad, don't you?" A broad smile broke out. "I've never seen you jealous before, and I'm going to wring every ounce of pleasure out of it. Maybe I'll turn on the charm. It'd be worth it if that caveman reaction is the result." "If you value our friendship, don't test it with Tee." "Christ, you're in love with her." His lungs began functioning again, and the oxygen rush to his brain sent a lance of pain across his forehead. Jake shut out Alex's words, and the effort to do so caused a thundering at his temples. He pinched the bridge of his nose and studied the frothy peach liquid in the soup bowl, fighting to regain control of simple body functions, like blood warming extremities. "See, I told you I wouldn't be long," Tee announced as she hopped down the last step and approached the table. "I see someone made a dent in the dessert." The woman's mere presence jumbled his senses, his vision only able to focus on the long slim line of her body, the way the flouncy skirt she wore flirted with her calves. Somewhere 195


in the back of his mind, an alarm flashed warning, danger, danger. "I confess to the crime." Alex's cobalt eyes twinkled, and he seemed unable to focus on anything but Tee as she glided across the room, her movements lithe, supple. "Sweetheart, these are incredible chocoholic morsels. Promise you'll make more." "I can guarantee she will," Jake muttered, scowling when Tee colored at the compliment. He cut Alex a heated glare. If he tried, even once, to flirt with her, a knockout punch would be the least of the consequences. "I think I can speak for myself." Jake had experienced her temper enough to recognize that tone, and when their gazes collided, mutiny ruled Tee's eyes. "Of course you can, babe. Buddy, don't be surprised when cakes pop up in unexpected places. Tee loves to bake, and she can whip these up in seconds." Blast, his reconciliatory words somehow aggravated the woman. Didn't she realize he was protecting her? "Are you two having a spat?" "No." "Maybe." Alex glanced from one to the other. "Should we begin? Soup's losing heat." "Hah. Lay you a million to one, it's a perfect temperature." Jaw working, Jake allowed Alex to seat Tee, and slammed into the chair next to hers. Snatching the white linen napkin from the plate, he opened it, and threw it across his thighs. A 196


muttered aside made his head whip up and his gaze locked with hers. "Stop it, Jake," Tee snapped, she shook her head and asked, "Who'll say grace?" "I will. Thank you Lord for the food before us. Amen." She blinked, lashes fluttering in Alex's direction. "Wow, that must be the shortest grace on record." "Orphanage training, sweetheart. The grace-sayer has to stay seated until it's finished. Everyone else starts leaving the table midway through. If you don't make it to the serving area, all that's left of the food are a few spoonfuls." Those luscious lips curled, and in the soft lamp lighting, her cat eyes twinkled. Head tilted to one side, she chuckled and said, "Sounds very much like boarding school." Alex tasted the creamy orange-pink liquid, and hmmned in enjoyment. "Lobster bisque. Amazing, and it is the perfect temperature. It tastes like it's made with fresh lobsters. I suppose you doctored up a can." A cackle, an actual cackle escaped Jake. "I guess you could say that," she murmured and shot him a flaming-arrow glower. "I think this whole situation has gotten to Jake." Alex frowned and slapped him on the back. "What's for dinner?" Hysterical humor surfaced, and Jake continued to laugh so hard he had to wipe his eyes with his napkin. "Behave," Tee ordered. "I thought a typical English meal. Roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, new finger potatoes, and green beans. I even found a trifle in the fridge for dessert." 197


Managing to stifle his chortles, he ate, contributing little to the conversation, but delighting in the spirited bantering between the other two, the way Tee charmed Alex into revealing what lay behind his playboy armor. By dessert, an odd languor claimed his limbs, a combination of spreading contentment and happiness. Never had he enjoyed an evening more, his woman, his best friend, and a house that felt lived in, as if goodwill sealed its walls. Alex ate three helpings of the trifle his witch had conjured. "This is so good. I'm tempted to have more." "How on earth do you stay so lean?" she asked. "You eat like a starving man." Alex's countenance sobered and a sad expression crossed his face. He and Jake exchanged glances. "Did I say something wrong?" "No, babe." He patted her hand. "Although there was food at the orphanage, it was designed to fill the stomachs of adolescent boys, not to taste wonderful, and the concept of seconds didn't exist. As teenagers, we often left the table hungry." "Then have more trifle." Tee pushed her chair back, got up, and walked over. She bent, kissed Alex on his cheek, and continued on her way to the kitchen. Alex rubbed his hand against his face, and he shot a look that could only be labeled envious at Jake. "You're a lucky man, Jake Mathews. I envy you right now." He threw his napkin on the table. "I need some fresh air." "Where are you going?" Tee called out. "Come back. Guess what I found in the kitchen, gentlemen?" 198


The pirate chest they'd left at Claridge's rested in the palm of her hands. An unassailable sense of doom filled every crevice of Jake's soul. For the second time that evening, normal body functions ceased, and he couldn't inhale enough oxygen to stop the light headiness, which made furniture and people dance a tad out of focus. "How odd. How did that get here?" "I thought maybe you might have picked it up, Alex." For a second, Jake felt like a director on a movie set, present, but un-acknowledged, watching Tee and Alex interact. "Uh-uh. It was on the table when I left. I clearly remember seeing it when I did a last-minute check of the living room." Fear dilated Tee's pupils, she wriggled her shoulders, and her feet shuffled in his direction. "You didn't bring it, did you?" A faint hope lit her breathy, murmured question as she faced him. The fire snapped and crackled, flames roaring, wood hissing. The noises rented the silence, reforming it into a breath-holding tension. Unable to speak, lest he voiced the dread seeping into his veins, Jake shook his head. Tee placed the small trunk on the table in between Jake and Alex. She sat down. "What's happening here? You two are looking at that thing as if it held the answers to some magical quest." His neck cricked, sending a dagger of pain across both shoulder blades, and he crashed into Alex's blue eyes, 199


suspicion rearing. "What do you know about the blasted chest?" "Less than you by that look." "I think you should open it," she said and pushed it his way. "I agree." "I don't think so." Jake stared at the wooden trunk. "It can't be a bomb. It couldn't fit a penny, far less enough of any substance to harm us. For Christ's sake, it's a miniature trunk, an antique, not a weapon. Open the damned thing." Swallowing, Jake approached it with caution, flicking a finger across one of the metal bands on the chest. He checked the room, running a circular gaze around the periphery, eyeing the floor. Nothing. Filling his lungs, he flipped the brass lock and pushed the lid up. Acrid, dense, black smoke filled the air, blinding his vision. The stifling, dark fumes made his eyes sting. "What the hell? Tee, give me your hand!" Jake barked out. "I can't see a blasted thing." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Grahamed Out "Walk to my voice, Tee!" Jake's shout added to her confusion. "Come to me." A cacophony of noise broke out. Hooves thundering, metal clanking, and bellowed voices fractured the stillness. She swiped at the tears streaming from her eyes, coughed, and stumbled over a jutting boulder. The stench of hair burning hit her nostrils, making her gag, a chaotic assault to every sense save touch. Arms outstretched, she corkscrewed sideways, searching, gulping down the traitorous apprehension clogging her throat. The wind picked up, whipping the impenetrable smoke into a swirling black mass. In slow motion a patched visibility returned. Another gust and the thick fog rose above their heads. Blinking furiously, panic-stricken and hunting her mind for any wayward wish, any subconscious yearning, she came up with naught, not a single suppressed craving. As the air cleared, she realized they stood in an overgrown field under clear blue skies and mild sunshine. Ice-tinged waves bathed her cheeks, and long-stalked verdant grass tickled her bare calves. A quick glance to the side revealed Alex knuckling closed lids, and to his right, balled fists resting on his lean hips, a narrow-eyed Jake glaring accusation. Recoiling from his fury-tautened features, she staggered backwards. "Not more blasted Vikings. Where in the hell are we, Tee?" 201


"I don't know, honest. I've never been here before, and I didn't do it. You can't blame this one on me. It was the chest." "Douglas Graham's blasted trunk. I knew it was trouble, knew I shouldn't have opened it. I should've listened to my gut. This is your fault, both of you." Glowering at Alex and her, he stabbed a finger at them. Resentment surged, and she stalked forward and dug a nail into his saffron shirt, hitting skin where the laces bared his bronzed flesh. "I'm sick and tired of being ashamed of who I am. And don't you dare, even for a minute, try to stick the blame for this on me. It's your damned trunk, your damned Ferguson inheritance." Alex's hands encircled her waist, and he dragged her against his chest and snapped, "Shut the crap up, both of you. What in damnation is going on? We didn't even finish a bottle of wine. How did we get outside? And what happened to the night? Why in hell are you dressed like that, Jake?" A sudden shove sent her flying into Jake's arms. She stared at the color of his shirt, at the unfamiliar laces, and pushed away, raking him head to toe. "Oh my," she said and cupped a hand over her mouth. Brows quirked, Jake ducked his head, and his black eyes widened as horrified dismay captured his features. He shot the two of them a quick assessment and groaned, "Blast, blast, blast. It's only me. The two of you are wearing the same clothes from last night. It is the blasted trunk." 202


"Crap. Are we in some sort of Computer-Generated reality?" Alex pivoted, surveying the area, and he blew out a long breath. "That's it. This whole thing has been some sort of technological innovation. If you're diversifying into a new industry, this is a heck of a way to prove a point. You can stop the demonstration. As the major shareholder in your investment company, I approve. Turn it off." She grimaced, wondering how to convince him that reality and veracity were now watchwords, which no longer held any worth. "I was out of line again, babe." Jake dropped a kiss on her forehead and shifted to the right. One long stride and the two men faced each other. Seizing Alex by the shoulders, he shook him and said, "Listen to me, buddy. We may not have a lot of time, and whatever happens, you need to go along with what I say. This is not CG. I don't know where we are and what's going to happen next. But, whatever does, let me or Tee do the talking. Got that?" "You've been under tremendous stress, and I know you. You won't reach out for help, but let me get you some, Jake. I swear I won't let anyone commit you." "Ahem, gentlemen, it appears we have company." Both of them swung in her direction. "Crap, it's a CG Braveheart." Alex pointed in the opposite direction to a band of five men trudging down a dirt road, wearing kilts, and carrying swords. Each man led a horse. Tall green trees lined the rough, cratered road, and the watery afternoon sun gave a surreal painter's light to the setting. 203


"Tee? Any guesses as to the century?" "Century?" Deep worry lines grooved Alex's brow, and his sensuous mouth thinned. "I don't like what I'm hearing." "Listen up. I can only say this once. Tee is a witch with conjuring powers. I've traveled with her to gladiator and Viking centuries. From the looks of my dress and the men opposite, we're in Scotland, in the past." "We could be in England," Tee said as she crinkled her nose, "as in Scotsmen invading." "Blast, blast, blast. I hadn't thought of that. History isn't my strong point." "Those men will walk right by us, Jake. They seem dangerous, and those swords appear very real. Do you have any suggestions?" Her clipped voice rang with urgency. "Babe," he said, cradling her face in his hands. "Think us back." "I've been trying." She shook her head. "It's not working. I'm sorry." "Okay, let's deal with this rationally. If the chest brought us here, it can take us back. Search for it." Jakes' charcoal eyes swept the meadowed glen; he dropped to the tall grass and hands disappearing into thick green stalks. "Crap, crap, and more crap." Alex rubbed his temple. "I need a painkiller, or a stiff Scotch." "Tee's a witch." Jake glared at his friend from his kneeling position on the damp grass. "Her warlock mentor gave me the chest, and it brought us here. That's the last time I'm telling you. I can't find the damned thing." Jake stood and dusted the mud off his hands. "How many men in the year 2007 run 204


around dressed in kilts and bearing swords, Alex?" He pointed in the direction of the Scottish warriors. The band of men approached, and deep baritones, coated with thick brogues, reached her ears. "Laird Ferguson." The shout came from the tallest man in the group, an enormous, six-foot-six soldier defined by the chiseled muscularity of a RAW wrestler. He moved with the lazy grace of a predatory tiger stalking prey. Tee gulped, a sense of disbelief curtained the whole scene, and she began to understand Jake's predicament when he first learned of her powers. The men picked up their pace and headed straight to them. "Tee, any suggestions?" "They think you're Lord Ferguson. Say as little as possible." "Will someone explain this situation to me?" Alex barked. He punched Jake in the shoulder. "Don't get physical, buddy." "You two have five giants to worry about. Don't fight each other," she warned and concentrated on conjuring Alex in garments similar to the ones the other men wore and herself in attire more appropriate than a knee-length skirt and a sage sweater. A quick dart to the left and Jake's broad back blocked her from the warriors' vision. Alex stopped sputtering expletives as the group of kilted men neared. The large man who'd shouted seconds earlier clamped thick, calloused fingers around Jake's bicep. 205


"Laird, 'tis some years since our last meeting, and talk of your skills reach the farthest village on our fair isle. 'Tis rumored your liege laird spared no expense with your training. And your performance in the Aquitaine tourney? As predicted?" "As expected." Tee marveled at the confident delivery of Jake's ambiguous reply delivered without a moment's hesitation. "Are you heading to Brodick?" Alex's brown eyebrow lifted at the mention of Brodick, and he shot a swift glance at Jake. Tee caught the surreptitious exchange, and their obvious recognition of the location caused a throbbing at her temples; she pressed a thumb on the spot. "Who's the pretty boy?" The giant's strong jaw chucked in Alex's direction. The large warrior snorted and made an unfamiliar gesture, its meaning, however, unmistakable and an obscene insult to masculinity. "Excuse me?" Alex straightened and mimicked the speaker's wide-legged stance. "And he has the pretty manners of a courtier." The man nudged Alex with his shoulder, a hard right jab. "Keep your hands to yourself." Alex poked his finger at the man's face. "Watch your temper," Jake warned. "Yes, we're on our way to Brodick." "Where are your mounts then?" one of the other men asked. Testosterone belligerence bordered on explosion. 206


Action time. Mounts she could do without risking error. A nimble jog past the glen's perimeter into the shadowed forest, a few seconds of intense concentration, and moments later, Tee emerged into the clearing, dressed in a long blue gown she remembered from the cover of an historical romance novel, leading three prime specimens of equine perfection. Alex's cobalt eyes crossed. Stoic expression never wavering, save for the slight twitch under his left eye when he caught sight of her animal companions, a curve softened the tight line of Jake's mouth as their gazes bumped. His sable eyes smoldered approval, and as soon as she reached his side, he quipped, "I guess this is a clear case of never look a gift horse in the mouth." Tee puddled into Jell-O. His warm pinky hooked hers, and her composure returned. Finishing school training kicked in. She smiled at everyone and dipped a curtsey. Masculine approval glistened from five leering faces, and she decided against offering any explanations about her identity. Jake glowered at the line of soldiers, his dark eyebrows slashing together, and a firm hand circled her waist, long brown fingers splayed, stamping possession. Accepting his claim, she leaned into the embrace, and those black pools went from tinder to flame. Gazes locked, and everything faded into the background, warriors, Alex, the passage of time. "Crap, you two. Snap out of it." 207


Putting action to words, he snapped his fingers right by Tee's ear and caught the edge of her lobe. "Ow," she yelped and shot him a glare. The interruption brought awareness of the men's puzzled scrutiny and a mounting rigidness in their stance. All glanced to the giant for guidance, and his features, backlit by the sunlight penetrating smoky cumulus, remained unreadable. Wheat-tipped verdant grass swayed under a long sigh from the gods, and a wave of sparkle-dust ripped through the glen. A harsh cough trashed her cloud-nine trance, and Tee edged out of the harbor of Jake's arms, one reluctant inch at a time. She angled her chin and transferred the reins of one horse to him. He raised an eyebrow, but accepted the leather reins anyway. All the while, the kilted men stared at her movements, arms folded across their chests, unsmiling. The giant's gaze seemed to be shackled to Jake, so Tee sidled to Alex her one intention to get the three of them mounted in case they needed to escape. Alex's panicked blue eyes glued to the gentle mare she'd chosen for him, he stumbled backwards as Tee advanced. Turning the animal to conceal the two of them from the others, she whispered, "Take the reins, Alex. I promise this beauty has a wonderful disposition. We'll let Jake handle the others, and you and I will figure out this part. All right?" "I'm in a nightmare," he groaned, retaining enough equanimity to utter the words sotto voce. "But, a pretty damned realistic one." 208


"We can't afford any mistakes. Those men have swords." His jaw clenched, and storms ripped from those sapphire eyes. Keeping half an ear on the murmured conversation between Jake and the warriors, she gave Alex no quarter, but launched into a hasty explanation of the rudiments of the equipment and precise instructions on mounting. To complete the condensed lesson, she jumped on her horse and kneed the stallion into position, flanking him. Pallor claimed his suntanned complexion, and he gripped the mare's reins as if Nostradamus's doomed predictions pertained only to him. His knuckles whitened, and apprehension drew his vertebrae into a steel rod. Brandy, Tee's favorite stallion, protested the prolonged inaction and sidestepped in flawless dressage alignment, his method of persuading her into gallop. The motion arrested the Scotsmen's attention. The bearded, scruffiest member of the troop whistled in admiration. "Arabic horseflesh," another exclaimed. "A lass from a sultan's harem, I'll warrant." "The lady rides astride?" This from the giant who appeared to have authority over the rest. "A new leman, Laird? A fetching thing, and she has the color of the East, of golden sunset." Tee swallowed. She knew what the term leman meant. Whomsoever they thought Jake was, he had mistresses, and the mention of the word harem set her nerves a-tingling. It boded no good, not for any female in this century. "Where are you coming from?" 209


"Laird, we've done your bidding." The giant's lean fingers cupped his chiseled jaw, and a massive thumb grazed a steady rhythm over stubble-darkened skin. "As ordered in your last missive, a raid on the border." "I ordered no such thing." She heard Jake's low wince and knew he regretted his reflexive answer. "Now why would a Graham lie to his laird?" "You're a Graham?" Jake hid his surprise, but the tic under his eye came into play, and Tee wished she'd made Douglas tell her about the trunk instead of blithely accepting the warlock's explanation. "Fostering seems to dull a lad's memory over time. 'Tis unseemly to forget boyhood friends, Laird." The giant man wiped his brow with a dusty hand and shook his head, a frown deepening the wrinkles between dirt-streaked wheat eyebrows. "'Tis Tiny Graham, and these are the lads." He rattled off a series of unusual Scottish names. Jake muffled a groan, but his fists unclenched, and he swung the reins over his stallion's head and grasped a handful of chestnut mane. "Of course, I remember. I'm simply surprised to meet you here." Careful to keep her eyes hooded, Tee studied the interaction between Jake and the giant, Tiny. She could only marvel at Jake's equanimity. "Aye, 'tis a shock for us as well. We expected your return these two weeks hence." "Foul weather," Jake said, flicking Tee a side cut, he added, "We'll accompany you to Brodick." 210


To the left of her stallion, Alex managed to climb onto his mare and fit his feet into the stirrups. He gripped the reins so hard, the veins in his hands bulged. The kilted men chortled. Alex glowered. Mounting his steed with a surprising confidence, Jake led the men ahead of the two of them at a languid walking pace. They halted thirty feet away, waiting for Tee and Alex to catch up. "Have you ever been on a horse before?" "Once. Damned animal bit me. Smelly, nasty things." Alex grimaced. "Pretty boy's being helped by the laird's woman." Tiny Graham guffawed and called out an obscenity. "I'm going to kill him." "He's a lot bigger than you. Hold your reins like this." Tee fixed his hands around the leather strips. "Be gentle with your mare's mouth. You'll hurt her if you yank back like that. Give her some rein. Good, a little more. That's it. Now, when you want to go left, nudge your left leg into her flanks and narrow the reins in the same hand. The reverse for right. Got it?" She gave a quick demonstration, doing a figure eight around him. "I see Jake's made himself comfortable," Alex muttered. "Where'd these things come from? I'm not even going to ask how we changed clothing. Just tell me you admired my naked body while you did it, and I'll be somewhat appeased." "You're surprisingly calm."

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"Think so?" He arched a brow. "I figure I'm in the middle of one of those nightmares that won't let you wake up. I decided to enjoy the show." "Jake told you the truth, I'm a conjuring witch, and I wished for the clothes and the horses, but not for us being here." Tee surveyed their immediate surroundings. "To get your horse going, give her a slight pressure with your heels. Sort of a dig, not a kick. A kick is not good." "I don't like this one bit," he said, but complied with her instructions until the mare plodded forward at a sedate tempo. "Actually, this isn't so bad." A wide grin brought a sparkle to his navy eyes. "Heck, I may even take this up sometime." "You're doing great, Alex." The Scottish warriors trotted ahead of them, thinning into a single line as the path narrowed, a dense thicket of gargantuan pines lining either side. Shadows dappled the needle-coated earth, and a refreshing pine aroma hit her nostrils as the green spikes snapped and swirled in a tunnelbreeze groaning a low howl. "If you can wish for horses, why can't you wish us back to Claridge's?" Alex cursed when his horse halted. "I don't know. It's worked in the past, sort of. I may not get where I want to on the first try, but, eventually, I end up at the destination I wish for if I don't allow my mind to wander. Nothing's working now. I think it's because the chest brought us here." Alex scowled and flicked his horse with the reins. "The blasted animal won't budge." 212


"Give her a good dig with both heels," she suggested. He did. No response. Another one. The mare tossed her head, almost whipping the leather strips from his grip. A lash of frustrated fury licked Alex's mouth into a sultry snarl, but his reflexive drawing on the reins sawed the bit, and the horse protested with a lash of her back legs. The action threw him off balance, and he drew on the reins further and clamped his legs into her flanks. She reared and then kicked her forelegs high off the ground. He slid backwards to the edge of the saddle, released his grip on the reins, and grabbed leather, his nose butting the mare's neck as she straightened into a flying leap forward and settled into a fast canter, hooves pounding pine needles as they flew past Tee, Jake, the warriors. Breathing stammering to a halt, Tee spurred Brandy into a gallop and followed in Alex's wake, noting that the terrain widened into rocky shrubs at the end of the evergreen channel. Concussion, images of broken limbs, bloodied skin, drove her actions, and Tee edged her stallion faster, knowing he'd outpace the little mare, it just a question of how much harm could happen before that. A few more seconds and she paralleled Alex, readying to jump the space between the racing horses. "Pull back on the reins," Tee shouted. "Sit back in the saddle." The mare veered right into the path of a wall of shrubs. Tee urged Brandy on and angled him in an attempt to head Alex's horse away from the obstacle, a steeplechase four-foot hurdle. Horror drew his features into a scary-movie bare213


lipped grimace, and he braced for the jump, arms wrapping around the animal's neck, fingers interlaced. The mare swung left mere feet from the hedge, her canter dropped to a two-second trot, and then she stopped dead, dropping her head. Sheer momentum loosened his hold, and Alex somersaulted over the horse's front, landing with a soft thud on a mossy patch of earth, temples perilously close to somber gray boulders. Tee slid off her mount and rushed over to him. Cataclysmic chortles broke out behind her. "The big guy's killing himself with laughter at my expense, isn't he?" Alex's green-streaked face glowed with anger. "I may not know how to ride a horse"—he dusted his hands off and levered to his feet—"but I can handle myself in a street fight." She hadn't realized her lungs had stopped functioning until the breath whooshed out in a visible puff. A swift hand-pinch test revealed a spongy lichen carpet, which had saved him from serious injury. A spew of vulgar comments about Alex's equine skills erupted behind her, the majority issued in Tiny's melodious brogue. "That's it," Alex barked. "Let's settle this now." Tiny Graham, still sniggering insults, which resulted in further whooping and hooting from his men, jumped off his horse, shed a snowy shirt, and dropped a gleaming silver sword on the ground. He braced his fists in a fighter's stance. "Aye, pretty boy, 'tis time to do just that." Alex mimicked his actions. "Go for it, jackass." 214


"Do something. That man will kill him." She searched and met Jake's gaze, but he ignored her frantic call and winked, arms folded, his lips twitching. He found this amusing? Tee scowled at him, temper simmering, but a shout from one of the Scottish men caught her attention, and she swiveled left. The unfolding scene sent a jolt to every nerve ending. The two men circled around the rocky terrain, growling at each other, balled hands at ready stance. Tiny lunged. Alex ducked and jabbed the bigger man in the stomach. Tiny's strong arms snagged Alex's head and crushed it against his broad chest. Freeing his left hand, Tiny cuffed Alex in the jaw. Fury and frustration combined in Tee's mind. In the middle of this dire situation, these two idiots chose to fight? "Damn you two, if you want to behave like dogs fighting, then I'll treat you like that." She closed her eyes and tried to conjure up a fierce, pelting rainstorm. A flurried tickling sensation hit her chilled cheeks, and her lids flew up. "Oh no," she moaned. "Couldn't it for once work the way it should?" Giant-sized, fluffy dandelion powder puffs floated from a powder blue sky. Thousands of them. The poufs rained so thick they coated everything in their path—the men, the horses, the dense emerald shrubbery— 215


creating an ashen hue and blanketing the mossy ground like a soot-tinged snowfall. A barrage of sneezing broke out in an uneven rhythm. The men weren't looking at the pending opponents anymore. Now, they all stared at a watery azure sky dotted with cotton batting clouds, which showered dandelion clocks. Noses reddened as sneezes erupted at a staccato pace. Two frantic men ran tight circles attempting to dodge the flimsy volley as if death-threatening injury proved imminent. "I think you've got a problem on your hands, Jake." Alex blew a pouf of frothy circles away. "Tiny, in particular, seems to be allergic to these." He caught one in his hands, brought it to his nostrils, and sniffed in an exaggerated gesture. "Doesn't do anything to me." A broad macho grin curved his full lips as he mocked the giant's weakness. "Did she do that?" Tiny Graham edged backwards, long legs retreating. He held up his fingers in the shape of a cross. "Witch, she's a witch." And promptly ruined the dramatic declaration by doubling over as a fit of explosive sneezing wracked through him. "She's not a witch. She's my wife," Jake growled. Wife? Tee blinked. Wife? And legs she had previous control over led her to his side. Tiptoeing, she tugged Jake's shirtsleeve, and whispered, "Wife?" "They hang witches in the past. Play along," he replied, his breath warming her ear, and then he shifted, blocking out visibility. "Oh," she muttered, half annoyed with him, half annoyed with herself. 216


Tony soured her on marriage. Being anyone's wife meant ceding control to a man. She had no intentions of getting married again. Then, why did the notion please so? Tee crinkled her nose. "Tell that to the one you have waiting for you at Brodick Castle." "Pardon me," she said, crooking her head around Jake's arm. "What? Who's waiting?" "Your betrothed arrived with her seven very large brothers, her mother, and her father two days ago, Laird." "This can't be happening," he groaned. A fiancée? Douglas had sent him to his fiancée? Her eyes narrowed, and she couldn't decide whom to murder, her mentor, Jake, or the damned woman. Peeved jealousy strung a rising irritation, and on impulse, she pinched his ass. Hard. "Ow," he yelped, clapped two palms over his bottom cheeks, and shot her a furious cut over one shoulder. "What the hell was that for?" "Your fiancée," she hissed. "Damn it, Tee. Get a grip." "She's too bonny to be a witch," one of the men said. "I'll take her, Laird. You'll not be allowed her, not with your betrothed's brothers around. Come, sweet. I'll treat you right. You'll be well satisfied." He cupped his groin and leered at Tee. She jabbed her hands onto her hips in response to the vulgar suggestion, tapped a booted foot in the dirt, and 217


opened her mouth to give the man a scalding setdown. Maybe living with Tricia had some advantages after all. "If anyone gets her, it's me. Tee, come here." Alex materialized at her side, and he shoved her behind him. "Get your hands off her, buddy. Tee, come to me." Jake spun about, and he stretched out his hand, features contorted into a snarl. She rolled her eyes, lingering irritation crossing into livid anger at their caveman, chest-pounding behavior. With an impetuous vault onto her stallion, she signaled, and Brandy, the darling, took off at a trot. Another signal and he flew into a canter. Shouts caught her attention, and she veered about to swing past them when she heard, "You're going the wrong way, lass!" The shout came from the smallest, stockiest member of the bunch. He winked at her and pointed to the right. She stood in the saddle, did a little bow of thanks, retook her seat at the top of Brandy's lead, and took off in the correct direction. Out of sight and finding a clear run, Tee urged the horse to a gallop. The freeing speed, the wind whipping past, the adrenalin surge, her favorite mount, all helped to soothe her ruffled, chaotic thoughts. Had the trunk's magic corrupted her mediocre skills? Douglas never lied. He avoided the truth on many an occasion, but never had he mislead any of the nine. She tried to recall his exact words, an heirloom passed from one generation to another, and with Callum Ferguson's death, Jake inherited the trunk. So be it. But, would he believe her? 218


Every time he referred to Douglas, sheer revulsion coated Jake's tone. With a long sigh, she eased the stallion to a walk and patted his sweaty midnight skin. "I hope they don't miss you, boy. I wonder if it's the same time in the present as it is in the past. I mean the same day. Oh, who cares? Why did he say wife, Brandy, and even worse, why did I kind of like the idea?" In the past she used many a stallion as a sounding board. Somehow, voicing her worry proved cathartic and most times resulted in a solution. "I suppose we'd better head back. If they thought I was a witch before, who knows what they'll think now?" She covered her face with her hands when she remembered the stupid dandelion clocks and then dropped them and squared her shoulders. "I will learn how to control my powers, and I will make my own decisions. No one's going to control me ever again." A breeze circled the woman and the horse as they did an about turn and trotted in the direction of the macho men. Hearing Jake calling her name in a shout with a coarse edge to it, she followed the sound, rounded a corner and a horse collision loomed imminent until, in a deft maneuver, she sidestepped Brandy, and they faced each other. He dropped his reins, gripped her shoulders, and shook. "Don't ever do that to me again. Hell, we don't know where we are, what century we're in. Women are fair game in these times. Blast it, woman, you could've been killed or raped, or I could've lost you forever." 219


Before she could retort, he clamped his mouth over hers and plundered, taking control, stabbing his displeasure, which softened into greed in an instant, into mutual, desperate gluttony. Tee caught the back of his head with one hand and tunneled her fingers into sable curls so soft, so silky, she melted, like sugar turning into caramel, all pliable and runny going wherever his tongue led, tangling, teasing, tickling. He broke away from her, panting soft, warm breaths over her lips and leaning a damp forehead against hers. "I can hear Alex shouting. He sounds almost hysterical." "I'm sorry for taking off like that. I know you must think this is all normal for me, but it isn't." "Shush, witchy woman. I'm sure it scared you when you couldn't conjure us back to our time. I agree with you. The trunk did this." "I shouldn't have shown off at the end there. Are they planning to burn me at the stake?" "Jesus, don't put thoughts into my head." His complexion regained its natural hue and his taut features relaxed as his lips curled. "It's strange, but they discussed it, and, believe it or not, Tiny thinks you're a gypsy witch. Apparently, they have control over animals, particularly horses. Alex and I went along with his deductions. Offer no explanations about your stunts. That's how we'll play it. Done?" "Done." "They're coming. I can hear the blasted horses. One more thing," he said, cradling her face with warm palms. "Don't leave me again. Ever. Deal?" 220


With all sorts of hopes and odd yearnings pulsing and throbbing in organs and arteries and veins hitherto unknown, she nodded, thinking, Stay with me. "I don't want a family," he'd said. The statement reared, the words menacing and dooming. Remembrance of his strident tone spurred a mental wince, and a sudden clarity sent one truth to the forefront: she did. The thought of a little girl, loved and encouraged by her parents, became a focus in that moment, a proverbial light at the end of a lifelong tunnel of loneliness and emotional abandonment. Even if she couldn't have Jake, if she had a daughter, her mind stuttered into a faltering halt and she glanced at her middle, and wondered if she could be pregnant. His hands dropped away as noise heralded the approach of the others, and he assumed that stoic expression she knew so well. A long snake of Scottish warriors rode into sight, men who eyed her with admiration-tinged wariness, and they halted as one a good twenty feet away. Alex trailed around them, maneuvering the mare with tentative rein-tugging and mumbled entreaties, stopping the animal with a jerk when he paralleled them. "What was that about?" "What on earth prompted you to pick a fight with a man a head taller than you? One who knows how to use a sword? Are you insane?" She rolled her eyes. "And why in damnation didn't you stop him? You're supposed to be his friend." 221


Alex and Jake exchanged a glance, and their amused smirks tempted her to take off again. "I suggest we continue our journey. Tee, no more galloping away. Alex, stay away from Tiny." And who made him king of the hill? Resentment surged and dissipated as the need to stay focused became paramount. She stuck her chin out, but inclined her head in agreement. The warriors led the way, leaving them to follow in their wake As soon as they cleared the line of trees on their right; the other men broke into a fast trot. "Crap, crap," Alex said, his voice rising. "Tee, help! The damned animal's going too fast." Tee fell back to his side. "She's trotting. There's a natural rhythm to it." "Only if you're a damned horse," he snapped, tottering from one side of the saddle to the other. The mare tossed her head, neighing in protest as the reins sawed with his movements. "Grip the center of the saddle with one hand. Good, now watch how I rise and fall. Try to copy my movements." He practiced for a few minutes, grimacing when he hit hard leather at a painful angle. "If this goes on any longer, children will not be an option. Christ. That bump's exactly in the wrong place." Biting her lip and stifling the urge to crack up with laughter, Tee doled out a litany of instructions and compliments. At the end of thirty minutes or so, Alex managed a decent trot, and he flashed a brief grin at her, 222


although his woeful expression belied the forced aura of confidence. "My ass is killing me. I can't wait to get off this piece-ofcrap animal." "Be careful when you dismount. Your legs are liable to be wobbly." He snorted. "Don't let that idiot, Graham, overhear you. He thinks I'm a sissy." "Do you know if Jake even knows where Brodick Castle is?" "We both researched it on the 'net. Brodick Castle is part of the property this Callum Ferguson left him." "No," she groaned. "This isn't good. I'm beginning to understand why Jake scowls every time I mention Douglas. Stick a pin. That explains why you both looked like that when they mentioned it." "Stick a pin?" He shook his head and then rolled his shoulders forward. "The English equivalent of hold that thought," she translated, morose at the implications behind his explanation. Ahead, the warriors slowed their pace to a fast walk. The scenery changed as they narrowed the distance between the two sets of riders, rounding up and down into twisty, craggy mounds devoid of any greenery. Moisture-laden, icy wind blew and ebbed with irritating discordance. "Damn, damn, damn. What does this mean?" She rubbed one temple with a knuckled forefinger. "I was hoping against hope Douglas had nothing to do with this, but it all points to the damned trunk. I don't know how we're going to get out of here, Alex. I'm so sorry you got caught up in all this." 223


"Ah, sweetheart, don't cry. A woman's tears do me in." He reached across the gap and patted her thigh. "It'll work out. It always does. Let me tell you what I know about Brodick Castle. It's on an island called Arran off the coast of Scotland. The climate is mild because the Gulf Stream current runs between the island and the mainland, and palm trees grow along the coastline." "Thanks for distracting me. Hopefully, we won't be here long enough to discover the palm trees." Tee opened her fisted hand, and cold, fat raindrops dampened her flesh. "Great, it's raining." "Did you really wish those dandelion clocks?" The breeze blew Tee's curls into a wild tangle around her face, and she dropped her reins. Using her legs to guide Brandy, she absently conjured a scrunchie and shoved her swirling hair into a low ponytail. "Actually, I wanted torrential rain. I figured you'd separate two men fighting the same way you do dogs, water. I don't know if it didn't work because of the trunk's magic or because I'm upset. In the present, I never could control the conjuring if I'm emotional, but then again, I never tried. I wanted to be normal, so I avoided my powers. Recently, I decided to embrace them, and now I'm working on the control issue." "Fascinating. What were you feeling when you tried for the storm?" "Annoyed with petty macho men," she bit out. "Honestly, picking a fight with a giant like Tiny? What got into you?" "What happens when you think of Claridge's? Maybe we can trick this power of yours into working," Alex added, a 224


sudden lift to his posture, an anticipatory gleam in his cobalt irises. "Nothing at all. We're still here, aren't we? Things really can't get much worse. I'm sure Douglas had a reason for sending us to this time, whatever century we're in." Tee closed her eyes, and an aquamarine jacket filled her hands. "See, that worked. Perhaps it's not the trunk after all, just me. But, I'm getting better at this witch stuff. It's even the color I pictured." She shrugged the garment on, tucked the fleece-lined hood over her hair, and pulled the drawstring tight. "Christ! That was nothing short of amazing. Wait a minute, at your grandmother's house," he paused, his eyebrows flew heavenwards, and his blue eyes blazed her way. "Those little cakes, Jake said I shouldn't be surprised if they popped up everywhere. You did it." Heat scaled her cheeks. "It's a childhood thing. I loved cupcakes, and they sort of became my comfort food. Whenever I was upset, they appeared. To this day, my mother refuses to serve cake of any sort." "She doesn't approve?" My, the man's good looks grew more astonishing, especially when he tilted his head to one side and sympathy ruled that crooked, boyish smile. He listened to her words as if treasuring each syllable, as if she'd become the single most important person in the universe. No one had ever viewed her with such rapt attention. Flattered and flustered, she blurted the truth. 225


"She's never acknowledged my powers. Neither of my parents ever has." "Jeez, sweetheart, how awful. You had to live with an enormous secret. It must've been harder than a priest hearing a murderer's confession and having to keep quiet about it. You had no one at all to talk to?" "It wasn't as bad as all that," she said, comforted by his instant acceptance of her peculiarities. "There are nine of us witches, and Douglas, the one who insisted Jake have the chest, he guided us. Now I think about it, I'm convinced he'd never let any harm come to me. Don't worry. He must have planned a way out." Like quicksilver mercury in an old-fashioned thermometer, his mood morphed to a fever point in the flick of an eyelid. "Don't worry, you say? I'm somewhere in Scotland, in an unidentified century with a witch and an idiot friend." Alex slid to the ground, his knees buckled, and he grabbed the saddle for support. "I warned you." "Crap, my ass has muscles I've never felt before." His forehead creased. "We're journeying to a castle Jake inherited in the year 2007 with a pack of Braveheart barbarians. Back in 2007, Scotland Yard wants to arrest you, Interpol's hunting Jake, and I'm not to worry? Forgive me if I beg to differ." His horse neighed in agreement with his heated remarks, head bobbing up and down. Hands fisted around hard leather, he took a deep inhale and blew the breath out in a long, frustrated sigh. "Hell and damnation, I might as well go with 226


the flow. While you're wishing, Tee, do you think you can conjure up a waterproof jacket for me, preferably lined?" "You're remarkably practical and amazingly accepting of all of this," she said, fitting her elbows at her waist and opening her hands. "I'm a lawyer." His mouth curved into that uneven grin, a rueful combination of flirtatious cynicism and boyish appeal. "That jacket?" "So sorry, I'll get to work on it. Do you know, for the first time ever, my powers are proving useful?" She remembered a waterproof coat from a Land's End catalog and visualized it. "I am getting better at this," she said and halted when the jacket materialized in her hands. She straightened a crease in the fabric and offered it to him. "I think navy blue is a nice color on you. I tried to match your eyes, and it's even monogrammed." The little mare ceded to Brandy's dominance and stopped at his side. After Alex shrugged on the coat, thanking her profusely, they resumed the path, rounded a hideaway bend, and realized they'd reached a destination of some sort, a wide, rocky beach. Waves pounded speckled sand bordering granite rocks throwing ocean spray into the air. A harsh wind intensified, mixing salty splatter with the gentle rainfall, creating circular splotches on the rough beach. The weathered coastline extended as far as she could see. A line of warriors stood beside their horses approximately ten yards ahead of them. Tee spotted a large ship with three tall masts, billowing white sails rocking under foam-crested, slapping ocean. With 227


mounting reluctance, she nudged Brandy forwards, and the mare followed alongside. "I guess that's our transport. At least sailing is the one sport I excel at." "Alex, please don't start with that tone. If you provoke a fight with Tiny, I'll conjure stampeding horses at you." "He started it." "He has a sword, and he knows how to use it." She said, narrowing her eyes. "I can take him with one arm tied." "Heaven forbid I ever meet a logical man. Great. He has that look on his face, too." "Pretty boy and the laird's woman." "Please, Alex. For me," she pleaded when the giant turned to listen to a question from one of his men. "Nay, load the horses first." Tiny Graham's bellow made Tee's heart stammer. His powerful thighs bunched as his long stride devoured the short distance between them. "Unless you'd care to load them magically, lass." His sculpted features matched her vision of the perfect medieval warrior: high, curved cheekbones and aqua eyes shadowed by thick lashes shades darker than his shoulderlength, wheat-streaked lion's mane. Hands stamped on lean hipbones, he spoke with easy nonchalance and complete confidence, charm masking an inherent arrogance. "You don't seem afraid of me now." "'Tis clear as a heavenly vision, lass. You've no evil in your soul. A gypsy witch who can whisper with such a mighty 228


stallion." He stroked Brandy's flank, and the steed shuddered, leaning into the caress. "Your innocence shines like Apollo's sun, but your temper reigns too often, the mark of Ares, perhaps. Besides the heavens and stallions, what else do you command?" "Pardon me?" Bewildered by this turnabout, the poetic flattery, a sudden charismatic tug as if he radiated a magnetic field, she ducked her chin to break their gaze, the discipline required to do so jumping electricity to every synapse. Tingling from hair roots to curled toes, she fought the reaction and studied the coarse sand puffing around Brandy's black hoof. "I've a sudden urge to have a witch, a gypsy with wild hair and cat eyes, one who wears strange clothing and can stand like a fairy goddess on a steed's back." "Which direction?" The shout came from one of the other men. Tiny licked his finger and held it up. "A warrior gifted by the gods who owned a lass like you could defeat any enemy, conquer any land." He cupped his hand around his mouth and hollered into the wind. "Trim the sails for north winds." "You can't own a person," she snapped, even as his magnetism and blatant sexual aura did fluttery things to her stomach. "You're wrong, lass. You can own a wife. I figure to court you. And the lads are right—you're too bonny to live under the same roof as the laird's betrothed, and that one has a vicious streak. She'll force him to send you away. 'Tis my 229


protection and my hand I offer, not a leman's cottage, but the promise of your own castle, your own domain." Tiny blew her a kiss, a grin playing with the corners of lush lips that promised ecstasy. Large hands spanned her waistline, thumbs crossing at her navel, and he lifted her off her horse, his touch gentle and reverent. She stumbled when those strong fingers fluttered across pelvic bones so sensitized, so scalded by their path, that her boots scuffed pebbles and sand into flight. Surprised into momentary paralysis, she titled her head up and met his turquoise gaze, somber and intent in contrast to his flirtations words and actions. Somewhere deep in her belly, a spark ignited. "Oh my," Tee mumbled as a confused guilt forced heat across her cheeks. Jake snagged her from behind, dislodging the giant's hand and locking his fingers at her stomach. "Blast it, that's mine," he growled into her ear and nipped the lobe with sharp teeth. A strange erotic thrill had her growing damp and sticky, and she squeezed her trembling thighs together, thrown into utter chaos. "Don't touch my wife again." The howling sea wind died, dropping away in an instant, and Jake's snarl rang like a warrior's horn warning of impending battle. Raking him, Tiny's harsh features settled into placidity. "We set sail within minutes. Lead your horses to my men. Lass, will your stallion let others handle him?" 230


"Yes, but tell them not to approach him without warning, and have gentle hands. He has a sensitive mouth." She sighed. "On second thoughts, I'll come along." "She'll be there soon," Jake said and firmed his hold as if he suspected she'd attempt escape. As soon as the giant was out of earshot, he said, his voice a low rumble riding a fierce edge, "Why in blasted hell are you flirting with him? And I saw the way you grinned and blushed with Alex like some silly teenager." "Let go of me." She tugged at his fingers. "You're the one with a damned fiancée waiting for you. I wonder how soon she expects to be married, don't you?" [Back to Table of Contents]

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BMWs & Big Macs "Tee, you can't expect me to get this beast on that ship." Alex's grumbled comment fractured Jake and Tee's edgy face-off. She shifted her gaze from Jake to Alex. He towered in front of them, rocking back and forth on his heels. A north wind whipped hair and clothing against them, its chill an icy burn. Alex reminded Tee of a Ralph Lauren beach ad for Polo aftershave. "The damned animal doesn't like me. Look," he said, holding out one arm. "See that bruise? It's already purple. The blasted nag bit me." And indeed, a semicircle of tooth prints shone through the blue-tinged skin between his wrist and elbow. "Ouch," she said, crinkling her nose. "That must've hurt." "Wonderful disposition my ass. Thank the lord above you didn't conjure a foul-tempered creature. I'd be dead by now." She shifted in Jake's arms, testing his hold. He had a castiron grip around her waist, unbreakable without a confrontation, and they'd enough to tackle as it stood. She sighed and relaxed against his warm body. The testiness slipped away in the face of the comfort he represented. "I'll load the horses." "You're a gem, sweetheart." Tee shrugged out of Jake's embrace. He allowed the action, letting her go in small increments and scowling with each release. 232


"You're reacting to all this with remarkable calm." "Tee said pretty much the same thing earlier. Am I ever hysterical?" "No, you're a blasted lawyer. And stop calling her sweetheart." "Who crapped on your parade?" Jake and Alex didn't even notice her departure once their bickering developed into a macho arrogance contest. She took charge of all the horses and led them to the short pier jutting out of a slate-bouldered promontory. Busied and bothered after coaxing the horses onto the ship, Tee avoided Jake for most of the short nautical journey. The rain held off, and a strong, brine-filled wind spit ocean spray across the boat's bow. Dark clouds dotted the blue sky, and the sun, a watery ball, meandered between them. Tiny spent most of the trip on the ship's wooden deck following her around. "So what kind of witch are you, lass?" He offered her a toasted crescent-shaped pastry. "How many kinds do you know?" She nibbled the crust and bit into a cube of beef covered in thick brown gravy, the taste spicy and creamy. The meaty aroma teased her nostrils and stimulated her appetite. "There's old Gwyneth who lives in a cave on Goatfell. She's a healer, and there's young Megan, she sees the future." He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and ran a calloused thumb under the lobe. Sparks ebbed and flowed under the slight caress, and for a second, she wondered what he'd feel like. Inside. And 233


stamped away the thought, horrified at betraying Jake, even though it was a momentary mental lapse and nothing but. "Don't touch my wife, Tiny." Guilt swamped every pore, and she welcomed his arms around her waist and leaned into the secure haven his touch evoked. When he locked his hands and rested large palms on her belly, she interlinked their fingers, fitting hers inside his. "You have a betrothed waiting at Brodick Castle, Laird. While a leman and a wife can live peaceably, 'tis not so with your betrothed. Not unless you're willing to start wars. I've a mind to have a witch for a wife, a bonny golden girl with big brown eyes." Hands clamped on his pelvic bones, he challenged Jake to deny the truth. "You can't have Tee. She's mine, and I'm your laird. Don't you have duties to take care of?" Jake jerked his head at the masts. "Man the sails and all that." Tiny shrugged. "Aye." He stalked off. Jake sniffed Tee's neck and nuzzled her skin, his tongue licking away any memory of Tiny. "Let's not quarrel, babe. It's been three long days since I've been inside you, and it's driving me insane. And don't listen to that blasted man. He's trying to separate us." His gruff words, uttered as if he'd like to rescind them, appeased the hurtful jealousy provoked by the mention of his betrothed. "You're right. We should be working together. But, Jake"— she spun around and met his dark gaze—"you might not be able to stop the whole thing from happening." 234


"What whole thing?" Three tiny lines formed above his nose, and she gave into the urge and smoothed them, avoiding eye contact. "Marrying this fiancée." "Are you jealous?" He tipped her chin up, and she studied the soft satin of his lips, remembering their feel. "You are." Triumph laced the remark. Heat singed her flesh. "Of course not. Don't be silly. You've never even met the woman. The notion is completely illogical." He kissed her, a hard possessive capture of her lips, no tongue involved, and their foreheads met when he broke the contact. "I've recently discovered jealousy is not a rational emotion. For the record, I don't like you flirting with other men. Tiny's off-limits. So is Alex." "I wasn't flirting," she said, and a scalding flash hit her cheeks as she remembered Tiny's caress. "Tiny wants to marry me so he can solidify his powers." "He asked you to marry him?" The shout proved more of an accusation than a question. He shook her shoulders. "And what was your reply?" A snarl this time, and if he intended to intimidate, it worked. "It wasn't like that, I mean, um, oh, for heaven's sake. We're not even from the same time. This is so damned confusing, and I think I'm going to cry, and I never cry. You 235


make me crazy." She rested her forehead on his chest and let the waterworks spill. "Don't cry, witchy woman, don't." Jake's thumbs brushed away the tears, and his palms cupped her chin. "Christ, am I always going to be the one to break you two up?" "Go away, Alex," Jake said, hugging her to his chest. Wooden planks creaked, and she guessed Alex rocked on his heels, a particular habit of his. "We have problems, I'm afraid." Jake's long sigh fluttered her hair, and somehow, she relaxed, even though the comment should've spurred anxiety. "What now?" "Apparently, feuding clans are awaiting us at Brodick Castle along with your fiancée and her family. And I'm referring to real feuds, not some Beverly Hills sideshow. As in armies." "Wonderful. And what am I supposed to do about this?" "You're the laird. You're supposed to settle their dispute." "Which is?" "No one seems to know. It started about three centuries ago." "Why are you telling me this, Alex?" "Because someone else needs to worry. I refuse to be the only one." "Go away." He did. "Better now?" 236


Jake tipped her jaw with one finger, and the tenderness in those Amazonian pools made her eyes mist even more. She nodded. "Okay. Time to set a few things straight. First, it's the three of us against the rest. We stand together. Deal?" A silly smile curled her lips. When he wore that set, determined expression, she'd agree to anything. She nodded and snagged her lower lip to curtail its impudent behavior. "Second, we will find a way out of this. Agreed?" Another nod and the silliness shocked a giggle out of her. She cupped a hand to still the hysterical humor bubbling upwards. "Damn, I love it when you look like that." Forever seemed to happen during their entranced gaze. "Put me down!" Reality surfaced, and they both swung in the direction of Alex's frantic shout. "Oh my," she said and fisted a hand over her mouth. "Blast, blast, blast." One minute, Alex hung over the ship's rail, suspended by Tiny's brawny arms. Seconds later, he vanished, dropping like a downed cumulus-riding duck. She ran to the spot from which Alex had disappeared, gripped the wooden slat, and peered at storm-promised waves smacking foam against the ship's hull. "How could you do that?" She ground out, raking Tiny from head to toe. "For crying out loud, we're not even close to the shore." 237


Tee hoped the water felt warmer than it looked. Alex's head broke through a white-capped swell. The expression on his face promised retribution, and his mouth curved when he spotted Tiny. "Oh my." "We've no love for the English, lass." "Alex's not English." Jake grunted as he draped a hand on her shoulder blade. "Don't worry about him. He's a strong swimmer." "I can't leave him in that cold water." "Careful, babe. Better he swim to shore than risk using, you know." "None of them seem to be bothered by what happened." Tee protested, un-willing to risk Alex's life. "I can't leave his life to chance, Jake." "Okay, let's get away from this lot first." He inclined his head to the group clustered at the bow of the ship. Once they reached the safety of the ship's stern, Tee concentrated on rescuing Alex, and rather than risk any magic travel, she strengthened the ocean current pulling him towards shore. Jake's body cradled hers, and one hand stroked her back in a soothing rhythm. "I'm done." "What did you do?" She told him. "Are you sure it worked?" "Yes. Sometimes, I know. Other times..." He smelled so good. She rested the tip of her nose near the pulse beating at his throat and inhaled, drowning in the 238


spicy patchouli aroma. All at once, she pictured tasting him, practicing that first chapter in the Perfect Blow Job book. "When I went back to Florida, I almost convinced myself it wasn't real, that gladiators and Viking and rose petals'd never happened." He stared over her head at the horizon and shifted, his charcoal pools meeting hers in a direct, engaged way, as if he wanted to emphasize a point. "Now, I'm in another century heading towards the property I inherited in 2007. All of a sudden, reality seems grounded in magic. Maybe in you." "I, um, Jake?" Confused and scared and hopeful and horrified all at once, she didn't know what to say. Her lungs expanded to bursting point making her chest ache. "I want in, Tee." "In?" What? Where? Oxygen had left the planet. "Into your life. I don't want a two-week affair." Her fingertips tingled. "You don't?" Idiot, idiot. Think. Brain, work. "Move in with me." She stifled a sigh and stared at the laces of his shirt. "Pardon?" "Let's live together. I want to wake up next to you in the morning, hold you in my arms last thing at night." "Oh my." Rose petals tickled her cheeks. 239


"Is that a yes?" The comforting smell of chocolate baking cocooned the ship. "I thought you didn't want a family." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. "Laird!" Tiny's shout punctuated a tension so palpable it fissured her every sense. Jake's head jerked up, breaking their gaze. She reeled, gripping the rails so hard a splinter punctured one fingertip. "Think about it, Tee." He stalked to the front of the boat, arms swinging, features tightening with every step. She followed his movements while sucking on her pinky and tried to tamp down the disappointment flooding her soul, wearing a hole in her chest. What had he said? Good enough to sleep with, but not good enough to marry? She'd more of Tricia in her than she realized, and, with a mournful groan, she buried her face in her hands. People lived together these days. It was a perfectly acceptable thing. A logical way to see if marriage could work between two people. It made sense. Especially after Tony. She couldn't do it. Couldn't face her parents, couldn't tell her dad. Had Jake lived with someone before? 240


Loud whistling penetrated her mind, and she spun in the sound's direction and moaned. Chocolate cupcakes decorated with Christmas-colored sprinkles twinkled across the raised platform housing the ship's steering wheel. Snatching hands grabbed the morsels, stuffing them into mouths. Red, white, and green stains covered almost every man's cheeks. "More lass." The entreaty came from the stocky fellow who'd pointed her in the right direction earlier. Jake and Tiny appeared engrossed in a discussion and unaffected by either the rose petals whipping in the wind or the men gobbling down cakes. Land sprouted as sails billowed and the boat rode wave crests. The sun grazed the horizon, highlighting a red-bricked castle on the top of the hill with an eerie, magical radiance. The lush jade landscape surrounding the building served as a sharp contrast to white, misty cloud cover straying from the top of the mountain to the tip of the castle rooftop. Within minutes, the men tacked the sails in preparation for dropping anchor. The ship raced towards the rocky beach and a short pier jutting into the sea. Men threw ropes to others waiting on the jetty. With practiced efficiency, they used a rope pulley system to dock the ship and secure a wooden gangplank in place. Jake led the men ashore. "Tiny," he yelled, "get my lady to land safely and wait with her." 241


Deep in thought, Tee followed one of the men onto the gangplank. A sopping wet Alex materialized in front of her. Tiny guarded her back. "Riding a horse is not evidence of masculinity, you idiot." Alex's heated breath matched the rigid line of his jaw, the belligerent, wide-legged stance. A fight loomed. Inevitable. "The laird's witch had to help you mount your horse? Does she help you mount a woman too?" Tiny chortled. "Can you even wield a sword, pretty boy? Or does it not rise to the occasion? Mayhap you prefer the company of other pretty boys?" "That's it." Tee hopped to the left as Alex's fists flew. He delivered a left hook to Tiny's jaw and followed it with an uppercut to his middle. The breath whooshed out of the giant's mouth. Nodding in satisfaction, Alex shoved the still-reeling Tiny off the gangplank, dusted his hands off, and swiveled to face her wearing a smug grin. The giant disappeared below the surface and came up, arms flailing. He bellowed, "I can't swim, you bloody jackass." A white-capped wave rolled over him, and he vanished again. Although the dock stood close to the shore, no sand proved visible beneath the choppy surface. Tee sighed. 242


So did Alex, a long, exasperated sigh. "Crap." She nodded in sympathy. "I'm going to have go in and get him, aren't I?" Another small nod. "Crap." Alex raised his arms above his head and dived off the planked wood. For long unforgiveable seconds, neither man broke the storm surge riding the island. Tee searched the navy breakers for the two men, her knuckles whitening on the wooden railing. "I see them. They're over there. Alex has Tiny in a lifeguard's grip." She spoke to herself; no one else lingered on the connecting platform. The evening sun played hide-and-seek with the stormy gray-black patches of clouds gathering in the skies. Cold drops of rain hit freckled beach, splattering exquisite circles in the sand. Alex appeared on the shore dragging Tiny to the surf's edge. He helped the large man to his feet. They conversed, and Tiny lifted Alex off his feet in a bear hug. The men separated, heading in opposite directions. "We have to get you out of these wet clothes," Tee scolded when Alex's sodden form stopped in front of her. "You'll catch a cold, and we can't afford that right now. Go below deck. You'll find dry clothes in the captain's cabin." Alex dropped a kiss on her nose, and cold ocean dripped onto her cheek. "Thanks, sweetheart, you're a diamond." 243


"What the hell are you doing?" Jake's sudden appearance startled her; Tee jumped. "Nothing." She turned away. "Why did Alex touch you?" "To say thank you. I conjured dry clothes for him and told him where to find them below deck." She tapped a booted foot on the wooden flooring and folded her arms across her chest. "Well?" "Well, what?" "Are you going to move in with me?" Tee caught her long skirts in her hands and hopped onto the jetty. Jake stopped her movements, his hands on her shoulders. They faced the pounding waves. "Are you?" He gave her a little shake. "No." "Why not?" She studied the knots in the jetty's gnarled plank. "Blasted hell. Look at me, Tee. At least have the decency to look me in the eye and refuse me." Alex materialized, shrugging on the jacket she'd conjured for him earlier. "Is that rain?" he grumbled. "How far away is this castle? Can I walk?" No one answered, and his lawyer's scrutiny swept their faces. "Crap. Are you two bickering again? Christ, what in damnation is it with you guys? Take my advice. Find a 244


secluded spot and go at it like rabbits. You'll both feel better, and I'll have a few moments of peace before Tiny starts at me again." "Where's Tiny?" Tee asked. "Neither of you is going to take my advice. Fine, I'm done. Isn't it time we focus on the real issues? Like we're in the past, in an unidentified century, and according to Tiny, two armies are waiting for us at Brodick Castle? Not to mention Jake's damned fiancée and her seven large brothers. But, who gives a crap, right?" His strong, nylon-coated arms drew a dramatic V. "Oh no, instead it's more productive to focus on this thing between you two. Like we don't have to face the threat of living in this crappy century, with men who think a sword equals a brain. Christ, I could strangle the both of you." "Our mounts are ready." Tee pointed to the shore. "Hell and damnation." "Crap." "As you're so fond of saying, Jake, for the record, I agree with Alex. We should focus on getting out of here." "I want my BMW," Alex complained, as they trudged onto the sandy beach. "I never want to get on a horse again." "What's a BMW?" one of Tiny's troop asked. "It's pure heaven, better than a woman, especially right now." Alex's swift answer and mournful expression made Tee laugh, even though her stomach protested the action, and 245


she wanted to burrow to China and hide and not have to explain her refusal to Jake. "Tiny told me to teach you how to ride," the soldier said. "I don't mind walking." Alex eyed the dappled mare the man led as if she was his worst enemy. "Where is Tiny anyway?" "The village pub. Ready?" Alex groaned. "Never." Tee mounted her black stallion and nudged Brandy into a slow walk. The three of them started up the muddy, steep incline, riding well behind the other men. "Jake," Tee lowered her voice. "I don't think you should ask Tiny or anyone else any more questions. They think you're the laird. You're supposed to know everything." "I agree with her. Tiny told me you fostered with this other clan for five years." "I haven't been to Brodick Castle during that time?" Tee wondered if nothing ever fazed Jake, his expression seemed so neutral and composed. "No, but your parents visited you frequently over the years." Jake's normal stoic mask vanished as his black eyebrows shot to his hairline, and his jaw dropped. Clamping his lips together, he stared at the hillside. Tee watched the muscles in his cheek working. "I have parents who are alive?" She recognized the repressed hope in Jake's tone. "We don't know if they're your real parents." 246


"Of course they're not." Jake snorted. "If my parents are, in fact, alive, I'm sure they're in the twenty-first century, not this one." The small glimmer of hope she'd identified in his dark eyes moments ago morphed into shadows and his mouth curled down into a bleak sneer. She searched for a change of subject. "The castle seems to be lit up." Tee pointed to the steady glow in the middle of the hill. "Are the lights moving?" Jake peered ahead. "From that blaze, we may have more company than I expected." Half an hour later, they arrived at Brodick Castle. Tents of all colors littered the grounds before the red-bricked fourstoried building. Tee figured there were at least two hundred incensed, scowling men milling around the castle. Most were barebacked, and their naked chests glistened with sweat. Flaming torches stuck into the grass illuminated the area, and the smell of burning oil filled the air. "We're in it deep, Alex," Jake muttered. A knot wrapped around her heart at the desolation in his voice. Small voices in her brain urged retraction, and she opened her mouth to refute her refusal, tell him she'd move in tomorrow. But within mere seconds, dozens of men surrounded Jake, greeting him exuberantly, creating a yawning chasm between her and the two men. One heartbeat, then another, and Tee lost sight of him and Alex. Warriors swarmed a small oval around the woman and the stallion, shouting coarse expletives, spilling horns filled with 247


liquid. Stale beer, pungent whiskey, the sweat of unwashed bodies cluttered her nostrils. The bile rose in her throat, and she pinched her nose, hoping to ward off the threatening nausea. Frantic, panic rising, she swept her eyes over the pulsing crowd searching for Tiny and, after long moments, located him about ten feet behind her. Her balled fists relaxed when he pointed to a trail to the left of their current direction. She nodded her understanding and nudged Brandy into a quick turn onto a gloomy trail lined by the castle on one side and a clay-bricked smaller building on the other. Tiny joined her. His bay stallion neighed a greeting to her mount, and they walked the horses up the dark path. "Lass, the tricky part will be avoiding the Ramsays." Tiny shuddered. "I can handle the brothers, but Laird Ramsay commands with a look. I fear him even more than I do our King Jamie." The night air grew cooler; Tee shivered, guessing the Ramsays were the fiancée and her family. All at once, it became imperative she fix the time and place. "James is King of Scotland," she mused, frowned, and remembered a whole stream of King James's. "Who rules England, then?" "Lass, were you educated at all?" "Of course, Tiny, don't be silly." She tapped his forearm. "Just tell me who rules England." "Henry VII." He knuckled his left temple. "What year is it?" 248


Arrested, Tiny halted, reached across the foot separating them, cupped her chin, and his aqua eyes studied her features in a slow raking. "'Tis of some import to you, time. We are in the year of our Lord, one thousand five hundred and one." 1501. Why 1501? "Ah, lass, you are a puzzle. And mayhap, one not meant for me. You're a witch. Cannot you conjure away the Ramsays?" The hopeful note in his voice worried Tee. His large thumb grazed her chin in a soft, soothing rhythm. "Uh-uh. Sorry, but I'm not a very reliable witch." "Eh?" Consternation rued his Greek-god features. "Back then, I'd tried to conjure a storm, but it didn't work." "Ah, you're an apprentice witch," he said, and his eyebrows settled into perfect alignment. "But sure enough, this is easier than a gale. Conjure the attic. Will it help if I describe a room?" "Tiny, you don't want to risk this. I can't always make the conjuring part work," she admitted. "It's not dependable, especially when I, um, kiss, um, the laird." His turquoise eyes lit up like a neon Las Vegas sign. "I'm all for kissing, lass." He scooped Tee off her stallion and settled her on his lap, her legs dangling across the horse's flanks. Brandy trotted 249


alongside, lowering his head every other stride to snag tufts of grass. "No way. If you touch me, I'll concentrate on putting you back in the sea." She glared at him. Tiny's complexion turned ashen, and his thigh muscles tensed under hers. "We'll hobble the horses here." He jumped off his mount in an elegant, fluid motion, surprising for such a large man, and set Tee on the ground. "The youngest Ramsay's hot-headed and very protective of his sister. If he sees you, there'll be trouble." A band of perspiration broke out on Tiny's forehead. Tee's apprehension escalated, and her stomach clenched in a wavelike motion. "Come with me." He searched her countenance. "Can you make yourself less fetching, lass?" Before Tee could utter a protest, Tiny bent down, picked up a handful of dirt and grass, and rubbed it over her cheeks and across her forehead. "You're still too bonny, lass." They reached a high wooden door partially hidden by shrubs; he put a finger to his lips, opened the door, and waved her inside. Tee grabbed on to his shirt. "I can't see a thing." "Hold on, lass, I'll light a torch." The scratch of metal against stone seemed like thunder in the absolute silence. A haloed glow made visible a sootcrusted stone wall and a wide spiral staircase, which Tiny mounted while motioning for her to follow. 250


Not having another option, Tee trudged up the steep stairs, counting the steps. "Where are we going?" she managed to squeak out in between gasps. They halted on step one hundred and twentyfive. "To the attic, no one goes there. You'll be safe." The stairs ended, and a wide wooden door confronted them. Octagonal cobwebs, thick and complex, coated brass hinges blotched with aged rust. The massive oak structure creaked in protest when Tiny dragged it open and pulled Tee into a dim, narrow corridor. The torch flickered, sending dancing shadows down the hallway. She followed him, and with each step, the corridor brightened as if fluorescent wands switched on. "You'll be safe here, lass." He pushed Tee into a large rectangular room dominated by an arched, shuttered window. Moonlight streamed in, its silvery splash bathing rose-hued walls like spangles waving Christmas cheer. "How long do you think the laird will be?" "Lass, with all the clans, I fear he'll be a while. I suggest you make yourself comfortable. I'll find food." "Don't bother. I can manage the food. How would you like a Big Mac, fries, and a milkshake?" Tiny scratched his ear and eyed her, thick fingers wrapping around his strong jaw. "I'll not be eating anything from the MacDonalds." "Want to bet?" 251


She conjured up a dozen hamburgers, accompanying fries and milkshakes, showed Tiny how to unwrap the food, and left him seated on the floor outside her door, ooohing and aaahing over bacon cheeseburgers and the magic of ketchup. Surveying the empty room, Tee wondered how Jake fared, and, even more importantly, why his fate seemed twined with hers. [Back to Table of Contents]

252


Caretaker Visions The grounds in front of Brodick Castle went on forever. Mist surged around lit torches stabbed into rough grass creating a supernatural, eclectic atmosphere. Almost a vilification of everything deemed normal in the twenty-first century. The pull of the trunk, the strange pulsing when he'd opened it, grew stronger as the castle drew nearer. A déjà vu tremor shuddered through him, as if he'd done this with regularity, sitting on a mount staring at his home. Home. A disquieting notion. Tee and home, coming home to her, waking up with her. Startled, he shook his head, glanced over his shoulder, and stood on the stirrups as the crowd cleaved their group into two, shoving her one way and the two of them the other. Jake lost sight of Tee within seconds. Men pulled him off his horse, and he craned his neck trying to signal Tiny to go to her aid. Taut knots formed across the length of his trapezius when he spied Tee and the giant edging onto an evergreen-lined trail at the side of the castle. They hung witches in the past, burned them at the stake, and the vision that thought engendered made his gut do a freefall. Jake dug his right foot into his mount's flanks, but his attempt to follow Tee proved fruitless. Oversized warriors bristling and shouting and laughing overwhelmed Alex and Jake, and dragged them off their 253


horses. Every two steps someone slapped them on their shoulders or lifted them off their feet. Never in his life had so many macho males slobbered kisses and so many bodies slick with sweat and ale embraced him. By the time they made it to the castle doors, he'd drunk an uncertain number of mugs of wine, carried a large poultry leg in one hand, and smelled like smoke and spilled ale. Alex suffered a similar fate, and when they caught up, a glaze shadowed his blue eyes. He'd lost his shirt in the melee, and a slash of red cloth crisscrossed his bare chest. "Christ, we're in trouble," he muttered. "These men are bored, Jake, and they're itching for a brawl." "Did you see where Tee and Tiny went?" "No. He's got her? That's good." Alex dragged a hand through his wind-mussed hair. "We need a safe spot, a place where we can strategize. Someplace far away from this lot." "There's always the castle." Both men stared at the wide arched entrance to the building. Massive oak double doors guarded six terraced stone steps. They ran the length of the structure and curved into a semicircle reflecting flickering shadows. "And the fiancée. Crap, you realize we're riding a fine line here." "Blasted hell, I'd give my left nut to get Tee back to safety." "You may have to." "May as well get this over and done with." He grimaced. "With me?" "Always." 254


They trudged up the stairs. Grabbing the enormous iron handle in the middle of the door, Jake hesitated, squared his shoulders, and shoved it open. He took one step into a cavernous room with a domed ceiling lit by evening dimness, the kind of shadowy half-light, which made distance perception hazy. As if it mattered. One impenetrable line of eight colossal males armed with massive glinting silver swords and wearing identical acrimonious expressions barred further movement. "This is the famous Ferguson heir? Weaponless?" The statement came from an older man with white hair. He stabbed an enormous jewel-handled sword into a wooden table, folded his arms over his chest, and narrowed his icedrenched brown eyes. "Never wanted a weapon more in my life," Alex muttered. "Preferably a stack of Uzis." Jake studied the quivering sapphire- and ruby-encrusted weapon and clasped his arms behind his back, letting the turkey leg fall onto the stone floor. "Impertinent puppy," the man roared, his face contorted into a ferocious scowl, thin lips curling in derision. "Who is this?" The seven men at his side took a step forward. In unison, each man wrapped large hands over their swords. "Introductions in order," Alex quipped. Right. "Laird Alex Mayfield, a colleague." "Heir to my illustrious father, the duke." 255


Duke? Blast it, Alex's warped sense of humor couldn't pick a worse time to surface. All eight males studied Alex, grudging respect crossing their features. "The Undefeated Knight," muttered one. "Pickle him," the older man growled. A long stride brought him eye to eye with Jake. "My daughter, your betrothed, awaits your presence. 'Tis long past Beltane. Either handfast or marry. Choose." "The laird can do neither," Tiny's low rumble came from behind. Jake willed himself not to jump or turn around at the surprise interruption. Out of the corner of one eye, he shot Alex a quick look, and read the silent message in Alex's narrowed squint, wait. "Graham," the man said, inclining his head. "You speak for your laird?" "Nay, for his da, who ceded Brodick to my control before starting his journey." It took considerable effort not react to that statement. Jake cut to Tiny, wondering why the giant had come to his aid. A barrage of critical questions peppered his brain. Who was his father? And where had he gone? "His son and my daughter have been promised since birth. 'Tis time to seal the union. She is of age." "Not until his da's return." His jaw clenched as he identified a nebulous undertone to the conversation between Tiny and the man Jake presumed to be Laird Ramsay. In an almost imperceptible motion, the line 256


of warriors shifted a couple of inches closer. Who had the final authority at Brodick Castle? Tiny? Ramsay? His absent father? Tiny clamped a large hand on Jake's shoulder blade. "For marriage, aye, but handfasting does not need formality. Prepare yourself. Tonight, before the meal, you and Kathleen will handfast." "And consummate," one of the brothers said. "With witnesses." "Aye, we will hang the sheets for all to see." "Tomorrow." Tiny stated, his rumble, low, even, spoken as a command. "This evening we celebrate the laird's return." A silent eye-battle ensued, and Tiny stared the man down until he dipped his chin and grouched, "Done." The staccato dialogue had Jake's head spinning, the deal cut in less than thirty seconds. Tiny's bargain bought him one day. One lousy day. "May as well get the lay of the land," Alex muttered, not bothering to lower his voice. "Are we stuck with them for the whole evening?" "Your mouth relishes trouble, pretty boy," Tiny uttered the warning without taking his eyes off the Ramsay front. "That does it. Let's step outside and settle this once and for all." Arms akimbo, Alex's challenge wrung an affirmative growl out of Tiny. Jake shoved between the two bristling men. Their audience sniggered, barking encouraging comments. "Keep your cool, Alex. Tee, remember her?" "Crap. Sorry." 257


"Take us to her, Tiny." "Aye. Follow me." Eight pairs of eyes daggered Jake's spine as they followed the giant though another set of doors. A fireplace the size of giant TV screens popular at live football games dominated the room. A huge cast-iron cauldron hung from sooty metal chains over a blazing fire, and the smell of cinnamon and apples swirled to his nose. Women, men, and children bustled about. Knives met stone surfaces over to the right, where a team butchered some animal, a large bird from its skeletal remains. One long table displayed dried grasses and withered flowers, and at another, a gaggle of women chattered and slapped dough onto a floured surface. Tiny weaved through the room, and in his wake, women sighed and stared, hands clasped to their chests. Then they caught sight of Alex, and a low murmur of appreciation swept across the room, twenty or so women mooning and swaying. "Come back, darlin'," said a pink-cheeked, buxom young woman as she reached over to pinch Alex's bottom. He grinned, winked at her, and returned the caress. "Later, I promise." "I'll take Tiny," said another. "We'll share," the two said in unison, each the mirror image of the other. "Twins." Alex rubbed his hands together. "Twins. Every man's fantasy. Forget Tiny, ladies. I'll keep both of you well occupied." 258


"Hell and damnation." Frustration laced Jake's growl louder than he intended. "Blast it, man. Now's not the time for your prick to take charge." "Sadly, you're right. Get us out of here, Green Giant, before I succumb to these lovelies." "What did you say?"Narrowed aquamarine eyes fixed on Alex. "Stop it. You two are acting like dogs slavering over a bitch in heat. Take me to Tee, right now," Jake ordered. With a final glare at Alex, Tiny shrugged and ushered them down a wide hall, into a narrower one, and out of the castle's rear. A few twists and turns later, and they re-entered the building from a hidden door. He led them up five flights of steep stairs. They arrived at a mahogany door turned ashen by a thick mass of cobwebs. "No one's been through this door for some time. Tee can't be here." Tiny's sly smile chased Jake's suspicion threshold to cliff point. A back of the eye-socket headache sprouted, he knuckled the spot. "This is the fairy addition to Brodick." "Huh?" A familiar shadow crept over Jake's brain, and, in that instant, he knew the truth behind Tiny's subtle insinuation. "I think he means fairies built this portion of the castle. Am I right?" "Aye. Seemed fitting to house your witch here, where she'll be safe from the Ramsays. They do not know of this section." 259


"I smell roses and, yep," Alex said, dark pupils widening, lips curving, "cupcakes. She made more of those. Thank you, God." "Maybe she has more of the MacDonald fare as well. Those little potato sticks and the thing she calls a milkshake." Tiny's stare veered into the distance. "Nay, those other buns with the meat." He left the two of them musing about food and discussing what items to request from Tee. Halting in front of the door, Jake studied the brass handle. She'd refused to move in with him. He'd never planned to ask her, should be grateful she said no. The word clogged his throat, fogged his lungs, clouded clear thinking. As the door eased open, he straightened and marched into the room to find Tee fast asleep on a modern-day bed with a high mattress, curled around a soft pink pillow, lashes casting shadows on rosy cheeks, elegant features softened in repose. His witchy woman. The devil's sweetest temptation. He did want in, in the most tortuous way. Edging onto the soft mattress, he aligned his body to her relaxed limbs, content to follow the rise and fall of her chest, see the pulse throbbing in the magnetic hollow of her throat, study a tawny strand as it fluttered on her cheek. Somewhere along the line, his sexual obsession with Tallulah Inglefield had morphed into this, this what? He couldn't, maybe didn't want to, describe the emotions she 260


forged in him. It made him weak, needy, and under her control. Buying her flowers, asking her to move in with him, signs of her power. "Did you bewitch me, Tee?" he whispered, almost to himself. "Set me free, if you did." "Jake?" Her amber-rimmed eyes peeped up at him. "Are you all right?" "Great," he said. And in that instant, life indeed grew bright and shining and full of promise. He traced the curve of her shoulder, running a finger up her long, slender neck to her mouth. She kissed the tip of his finger and took it between pearl teeth. From tenderness to raging hard in less than two seconds, he stifled a groan. "How about you? Are you okay?" "Yes, thank you." Her breath smelled of chocolate. "Jake?" "Mmmm?" "How does it work?" "You touch me, and I'm hard." Busy nibbling on her ear, all defenses shattered, he dragged one of her small hands to his cock. "Sometimes, all it takes is the smell of you, especially here." Jake touched his tongue to the sensitive hollow of her throat, where her pulse throbbed. "Stop. Please. I want to say something." 261


She planned to break it off. Panic lit him. "No, no talking. It's been three days." "If you still want me to, I'll move in." A dinosaur stomped on his chest. Nothing worked—words, thoughts, breathing. Nothing. Jake closed his eyes, and his mind played the words. Thank you God, thank you God, thank you God. One hot palm traced the length of him, and the caveman in him, the one who roared victorious licentiousness, rioted. "I bought a house." Jake trailed his hands under her skirts, up her thighs, and found her sex bare, moist, heated. "I'm going to explode the minute I'm inside you." "I've been dreaming about the way you feel inside me," she murmured. "Please? Now?" She fumbled with his pants and he helped, freeing an erection so rampant, it twitched and jerked. She stroked him, and he caught her hands. "No, don't. Too ready." Mouth open, he possessed hers, hands bunching her skirt up to her waist. Rubbing his cock against her bare pelvis, her hot mound, he cupped her bottom cheeks, and thrust into her tight sheath, instant orgasm threatening. Lifting his head, he panted, and gripped her hips when she wriggled under him. "Stay still. Don't," he paused, and stared at her, his mouth curving as her eyes glazed over, and her inner muscles contracted around his cock, wringing and releasing. He growled, "You're coming, my sweet witch, you're coming." 262


A breast brushed his cheeks, and like a nursing babe, he nuzzled for it and drew the whole tip in, tongue rapacious, cock voracious as she milked him, clenching and covetous muscles wringing his hardness. Angling her hips, he drove deeper and hit a spot that squeezed an oh my from her swollen lips, and he kissed her. Sliding his tongue in and out, accelerating his stroking rhythm, as her hands clutched at his waist, and she arched to meet him thrust for thrust. "Oh me—uh my," she mewled. He nabbed a pillow and shoved it under her firm, muscled rump. "Another," he coaxed. "One more." One arm coiled around her waist, the other reached between Tee's leg's, and he rubbed soft circles, relishing the honeyed cream drenching his fingers, the scent of her musky arousal filling his nostrils "Oooooh mmmmy." Her high-pitched squeal commanded his mouth, breaking it into a dizzy, foolish grin. Pre-orgasmic oblivion chased thought away, his pounding penetration the sole focus of life. Driving in and out of her heat over and over, until his testicles tightened, and sperm burst from his cock in burning spurts. Somewhere in the back of his mind as he collapsed, Jake counted another oh my. "Oh my," she whispered and kissed his shoulder. Unable to speak, he cupped her chin and brushed his lips over one eyebrow. When breathing no longer required effort, he rose onto his forearms and examined her face. Flushed cheeks, reddened mouth, the amber in her eyes glowing 263


satisfaction, and a lick of prideful, swaggering machoness slapped him into adolescent territory. "Four," he said. "Pardon me?" "I like those too, but the oh my's, those are the clinchers." Every inch of her exposed flesh pinkened, and he liked that too, he realized. What not to like about an exotic witchy woman who'd agreed to move in with him? The thought prompted another. What had changed her mind? "I'm almost afraid to ask." Her eyelids fluttered. "Four?" "When you climax, you squeal, 'oh my.' Four, this time." "I do? Oh ... my," she whispered. "I do, don't I? Oh, how embarrassing." "Sexy, hot, anything like that. Never embarrassing, nothing that happens in our bed is embarrassing. Deal?" "Deal." "You're blushing again." Unbidden, his finger trailed the color as it deepened. "If you don't like the house, we can shop around for another one. I imagine you'll want to fix it up, decorate it, so we can live in my condo until it's ready." She shuttered her eyes and shifted under him. "Unless you have other ideas?" The anxious silence pervaded his sated brain. "Tee?" "I'm sure your house will be more than adequate." "What's wrong? Why are you lapsing into your polite cocktail conversation mode?" "Pardon me?" 264


Ouch. Fire blazed in the amber, and those luscious lips tightened. He stared at her angled chin, and realized his tempestuous and temperamental Tee's mood had done an about-flip. "It's your house, your responsibility. You bought it. You can decorate it." His thickening erection waned. "Forget the house. This isn't about the house. What's bugging you?" "Nothing. You got what you wanted. I'm going to move in with you." "I got what I wanted? It isn't what you want?" Damn it, why pursue the issue? He had gotten what he wanted, but blast, she should want it too, be as eager as him. All women liked decorating, spending money. "I'll provide the funds, if that's what's bothering you. I don't care how much you spend." "No," she said and shook her head. "I can't do it. I was wrong to agree to it. It's never going to work." A roar in the hallway drowned the rest of her words. "Jake, Tee. Break it up. You have two minutes to get decent, and then I'm coming in." "This isn't finished," Jake gritted, his thoughts splintering from the blow her words delivered. Complete, strained quiet ruled their rushed dressing. Her temper vanished, replaced by a sad, defeated slumping of shoulders, and she looked about to cry. Before he opened the door, Jake surrendered and gathered her into his arm, cradling her chin. "Don't cry." 265


He thumbed her tremulous mouth. "I can't fix things unless you tell me what's wrong, Tee. Tell me." Her swimming brown eyes met his. "I'm never teary. I hate it. I feel pulled every which way with all these changes. You're asking me to move to another country, to leave everything that's familiar." "Blast. I didn't think of it from that viewpoint. Tell you what—let's not make any decisions now. Let's agree to find a way to be together and figure out our options. I can fly down on weekends until we decide. Deal?" "That assumes we'll find a way back." "We agreed on that too, remember?" She nodded. Alex burst into the room, followed by Tiny. "We've a crisis looming." "Wonderful." "It seems your parents are on their way to Brodick." "And?" A muscle under Jake's eye twitched. "As in a messenger appeared with a note. They could arrive at any moment. We have to do something." Alex's cobalt gaze shifted to Tiny. "Disappear, Green Giant. The laird and I have legal issues to discuss." Grazing a thumb over his chin, the giant's scrutiny swept the three of them, and his aqua eyes seemed to hold a question. "What, Tiny?" "'Tis perplexing, the lack of joy to see your mother and da after these many years." 266


"My lack of joy relates directly to the fact that eight men and two armies are trying to force me to marry some woman I've never seen." "Tell him the rest of the good news, Green Giant." "What do you mean, forcing you to marry?" Tee latched on to that pronto. "Nothing." "Handfasting." "Tomorrow evening." "Who's telling the truth?" she demanded, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I am." "I've seen the way you tell the truth, Jake. You take a thread of it and weave it in the direction you want. Alex, is something happening tomorrow?" A wash of pink stained high cheekbones, and Alex rocked on his heels and dug his hands into deep pockets. "Uh-uh, you're not putting me on the spot." "Tiny, would you mind giving us some privacy?" "I'll wait in the hall. Raise your voice, lass, and I'll be here." "Thank you Tiny, but I won't need you." Tee wore a pasted smile as she shrugged out of Jake's embrace. As soon as the door closed, Tee folded her arms across her chest, tapped one foot, and said, "Spill it. Everything." "His fiancée's father intends to handfast Jake and his daughter tomorrow." Her face paled, and her knees seemed to give way as she collapsed against the wall. "There's a good side to this, I 267


guess. Handfasting isn't legal unless it's consummated, and if I remember correctly, if you don't, it's dissolved." The warning look Jake shot Alex made him close his opening lips. "You said there was more?" "Oh yeah, apparently that duke remark didn't go unnoticed. Everyone thinks I'm this Undefeated Knight. A sense of humor doesn't seem to be appreciated in this century." "What the hell did you do?" "Bluffed." "You started a fight?" "No such thing," Alex said, tone affronted, his complexion acquiring a rosy tint. Jake groaned. "Merely accepted obnoxious challenges." "Wonderful, you blasted brain-dead lawyer. Thinking with your prick again. Blast, it's amazing you survived this long." "You challenged Tiny to a fight?" The question came out as a wail, and Tee slapped her hands on her hipbones. "Don't we have damned enough on our plate?" He had the grace to blush and even averted his eyes. "Actually, it's all seven of the Ramsay brothers. No Tiny." "Hell, Alex, are you insane?" "It's done now. Does improving skill sets count as part of your powers, sweetheart?" "I don't think so," Tee answered, as tiny creases formed between her eyebrows. 268


"Feel inclined to try?" Alex asked, mouth pursing into a rueful moue. "And by the way, a sword may be necessary." "Maybe you could persuade Tiny to give you a few lessons?" They both stared at her and swaggered, shaking their heads, a-little-woman's-gone-mad-sympathetic-pity expression crossing masculine features. She snorted. "There is only so much macho stupidity a woman can take in one day. I suggest you hie off to places far away and practice swordplay. I'm conjuring a nice bath, and then I'm going to sleep." Jake and Alex decided to act on her suggestion. As they headed down the hallway, he spied another room and dragged Alex into it and closed the door. "What's the odds of you getting out of these fights?" "Same as me landing on Mars," he said. "The you-knowwhat is going to hit the fan when Tee finds out about tomorrow's scheduled events, particularly the consummation part." "We have a day to figure out how to avoid that." "Doesn't seem long enough. What's wrong? Why do you have that look on your face? Christ, Jake. What else has gone wrong?" "Okay. There's something you need to know. I think the trunk's somewhere in this castle. We have to find it." "Why would you think that? And now, at this point in time?" "Two reasons, remember Tee said the trunk made her fingers tingle?" 269


Alex nodded, curiosity sparking his blue eyes, the lawyer in him springing to the forepoint. "It pulsed in my hands like a living thing, and every time I got near it, a roaring started in my head. It's thundering now. I can almost smell the blasted thing." "Smell it?" "Neither of you noticed the aroma nor was I about to point it out. The chest smelled of the forest we came through on the way to the castle. Clean and tangy." "I think the situation's finally getting to you. We're talking about a trunk's smell? And about it pulsing? Uh-uh, it's shrink time, my friend. I didn't smell crap about that trunk." "I'm about to make your day, then. You know my knack for finding things, my hunches about stocks?" "Why do I have that hair-on-the-back-of-the-neck suspicion I don't want to hear any more?" "I see things before they happen." "You see things before they happen?" "Stop repeating everything. I think the PC term would be visions," Jake said and winced when Alex flinched. "And I get this terrific bit of news because?" "I had one of Tee's caretaker, and it isn't good." "A caretaker?" One brown eyebrow lifted, and Alex rolled his eyes. "A vision of a caretaker? That's it. Sanity just took a flying leap into yesterday, you know, where there's civilization, electricity. I'm done with this. I'm waking up now." [Back to Table of Contents] 270


Fae Temptation Restless and irritated, Tee paced the fairy room and longed for a ride, a fierce gallop to exorcise anxiety. She squeezed her eyes shut, felt the temperature warm her back, and warily lifted one eyelid to find herself in front of the fireplace at Nanna's cottage. She blinked, uncertain if she had been dreaming. Something tugged her mind, and not even a second elapsed, and she stood in the fairy room in front of the bed. What had happened? Before her very eyes, the room changed, settling into a backdrop of a movie scene. The walls softened as if the texture of hard concrete could transform, and they became linen-like with the fine lines of that textile. Nanna's cottage's bedroom furniture replaced the double bed she'd conjured, and a footed bathtub appeared, hot water sprouting, and the scent of roses and lavender perfumed the air as steam spiraled upwards. Fear licked from her curling toes to her tingling hair roots. She hadn't done this. A gurgling hysteria bubbled up her throat, and she cupped a hand over her mouth. The door opened behind her, and she whirled around to find Tiny studying her and the altered attic. "The walls are blushing." They were, she realized, pulsing with rosy color like a shy adolescent. "The Fae have accepted you." 271


"They have?" "Aye," he said, apprehension marring the sparkle of his aqua eyes. "'Tis a fickle thing to draw the Fae's interest. One minute the focus of lavish attention, the other, punishments and raving." She didn't like the sound of that. "What does that mean?" "'Tis play the Fae like. Few of their number are wise, and most relish testing mortal folk. But, you're not mortal, are you, lass? You're touched by magic, but not of the Fae." "Are they playing with me?" She really, really needed a long gallop. "They're catering to your wishes. Luring you into their circle." "Why?" A growing pressure banded her chest. "I'm not a reliable witch. I don't have anything they could possibly want." "You're a beauty, lass, and the Fae are drawn to such." "Where are they? Are they invisible?" "Och," he said, his thumb fingering the cleft of his chin. "'Tis difficult to explain. If the Fae want you to see them, you do. 'Tis only mortals gifted by gods or other magic folk who see the Fae without being bidden." "I don't see anyone, but I felt as if someone spoke in my mind. Does that make sense?" She twiddled her thumbs, but managed to look him in the eye. "Aye, 'tis means you let them in. Be wary, lass, until you know what they want." "They want something?" 272


"Always, lass, always. Take from the Fae, and they take from you." "That sounds ominous, Tiny." She rubbed her arms. "You're giving me goose bumps. Maybe I shouldn't stay in this room." "Och, lass. 'Tis no your choice any longer. This is your room now." He waved a hand at the walls. "Any room in this part of the castle will change to be this if you're in it." "Tiny, you're making me scared." "Nay, lass, have no fear. Brodick's Fae protect. They do no harm. Though their mischief can feel like it." Tiny tucked a stray curl behind her ears, and his fingers trailed down one cheek. "You are the laird's, 'tis clear as Fae moonlight. You are one of many?" "How do you know?" She thought of the other eight witches. "I've a suspicion you and I are bound, not as mates, but in some other way. I'm touched by both the Fae and the gods. I know many things. Ach, lass. Don't worry," he said, his finger stroking the lines on her forehead. "Rest." He kissed the tip of her nose and, the touch soothed, like a hypnotic suggestion enacted. A few minutes later, Tiny bid her adieu, and not once did she notice any flirtation on his part, not a touch, not a teasing word. It peeved. Had she become fickle? Did she want him to flirt with her? Tee blew out a long sigh as she realized it didn't matter anymore. Tiny had decided she was a friend, no less, no more. 273


After her long, soothing bath, she slipped under the covers, wondering how to help Alex the following day with his scheduled fights. A spark of agitation persisted, and she tossed and turned, dreaming of crystal hibiscus holders, of swimming with dolphins, of making love on the raft. Birdsong and soft laughter teased her awake, and she stretched, a sudden burst of exhilaration energizing a tempestuous decision to ride Brandy. A dent and rumpled sheets proved Jake'd slept beside her, but she didn't remember him coming to bed. For brief moments, she wondered where the two men were, but electric energy sizzled in her veins, and she bounded out of bed and stuck her head out the window. Sunlight grazed the horizon, and the shadows of dawn misted away as the day came alive in a glorious burst of color and birdsong. Perfect day, perfect setting for a splendid gallop. What harm could it do? The sudden temptation so alluring, she didn't think further, but dressed in a hurry and headed out to find the stables. Clean but basic, they comprised four structures, each with entrances in different directions for defensive purposes, she presumed. In one, she found Brandy in a stall next to a massive destrier, the warhorse of this time. The stallion proved sensitive, down to scent, and recoiled from hers, puffing and stamping his displeasure. Despite the inherent danger, the temptation proved too great, and she bridled the destrier and led him to the tree line. A quick gallop, no one would see her. After all, what 274


woman of her time could say she'd ridden one of these magnificent creatures? It took all her considerable talents to control the animal. Reacting to her signals with unpredictable starts and stops, she soon grew frustrated with the stallion and surrendered to basic moves, nudging him into a canter and then a measured gallop. A most unsatisfying, disappointing ride, and worse, she'd risked exposure for it. Brandy snickered his disapproval on her return, and she apologized and gave him a good brushing. Lost in thought, braiding his tail into an intricate spiral, Tee never heard the group of men approaching until they surrounded her back. "'Tis the laird's witch," one said. "Dressed in breeches." She turned to face them and recognized not a single man. This lot had coarser features, missing and blackened teeth, and they smelled as if they'd never bathed in their lifetime. A quick getaway was required, and she cringed at the thought of Jake's reaction. Foolish woman, she chided herself, to give into the temptation to ride the warhorse. "I've heard tell of her talents," another muttered. "If she can make cakes and flowers, why not gold?" "Aye, gold and more." "Grab her." That did it. Her temper frayed, and she straightened, intending to march like a queen out of the building, but the back of her head seemed to explode, and she went down, crumbling like ashes in the wind. Her brain surrendered to darkness. 275


Tee's head throbbed. Lifting her eyelids proved an almost insurmountable effort. Breathing hurt. Her lungs wheezed. She opened one eye. Nothing. Pitch-blackness met her vision. The air smelled musty and damp. Her cheek rested on a cold, slimy surface, and she shivered. The hammer in her skull pounded, reverberating like an electric drill drumming into concrete. Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed and attempted to rise off the icy floor, but the ropes binding her hands and feet made the movement ineffectual, and she fell back onto dank, pitted stone. Shocked and horrified to realize she couldn't let out the scream boiling up her throat because of a gag, Tee concentrated on regaining some sanity. Using a scissor image, she snapped the ropes at her hands and feet and literally shredded the stinking, greasy cloth invading her mouth. The painful tingling in her fingers and toes prevented speedy actions. She lay still until the stinging in her extremities dissipated, flexed her hands and feet, pushed off the floor, and sat up, leaning against the knotted, icy wall. The movement exhausted her energy. Light, she needed light. An old-fashioned brass lantern appeared at her feet, and the glow of a lit candle in the glass cage illuminated the small chamber. A low fluttering drew her attention, and shivers combed her spine as she tilted her chin to the ceiling. Bats. 276


Pressing a fist to her mouth, Tee stifled a whimper. Hordes of black-webbed-winged creatures hanging upside down covered the ceiling. Panicked and revolted, she squeezed her lids shut and imagined a breeze blowing over trees and rustling leaves. Testing, she opened one eye. Trees, a bed of leaves, Brodick, red-bricked and solid, the welcome sight made Tee sigh and she took a deep breath. Clean, pine-scented forest air filled her lungs, tension seeped out of her shoulders, and she rested against the rough bark of an oak, half-hidden by the faint shadows of its swaying branches. Men in every stage of sleeping dotted the castle grounds. Poultry pieces littered rough-hewn tables and the dewy grass. She stood and swayed, leaned a shoulder against the tree's trunk, and fingered the back of her head. Wincing at the stab of pain the gingerly exploration caused, her mind flashed back to the destrier. Someone had knocked her unconscious. The ring of men in the stables. Brandy. How long had she been out? A quick glance at a sky crowded with angry black clouds turned up no clues; it could be early morning or late afternoon. In the distance, she saw a line of males striding towards the edge of the forest, two women straggling behind them. Jake's fiancée and her family? Were they leaving? One could only hope and pray. A sudden gust blew away the cobwebs in her brain, and she straightened, hot-wired to the vulnerability of being out in the open. Tee slipped away to the castle's side entrance, 277


opened the wooden door, and dropped the bar into place behind her. Not in the mood to struggle with a flickering torch, she simply pictured a flashlight. A cone of light illuminated the stairs. She raced up the stone steps, ignoring the pounding in her head and a flip-flopping belly. At the top of the last flight, she slowed her pace and trudged to the attic room. Exhausted, she dropped to the double bed and let the flashlight fall from her hand. Flames leapt from the fireplace in the attic grate. The yellow-blue blaze shrouded her in a soothing glow, and she fought the icy wave of shivers wracking through her, the chill a result of circumstances, not the dropping temperature. Tee scooted across the bed and looked out the window onto the grounds below. Knuckling her throbbing temples, she caught a waft of her scent and shuddered in disgust. Desperate to shed the stink, she conjured a shower in the tiny room and drowned her senses in a hot, steamy torrent of water. She dressed, swallowed three ibuprofen tablets, and set off in search of Jake and Alex. In the kitchen, Tee bumped into Tiny. She shook his arm. All around them, men, women, and children bustled about, their low murmur of conversation punctuated by an occasional shout and clanking metal. "Where's the laird?" She tiptoed, so she wouldn't have to shout. "Can't be located." "Pardon me?" "Where've you been, lass?" 278


"You don't want to know," she muttered, ashamed to admit her mistake. "Tiny, where's the laird?" "Lass, mayhap you'd best take a seat. Until the handfasting, the Ramsays have him under guard." "Guard? Where?" The long line of Ramsays heading into the forest flashed across her pupils. "I have the men looking for him. Aye, there is one other wee fact you should know. They plan to hang the evidence of consummation of the ceremony this evening." She thudded onto the wooden bench, and her stomach revolted, churning acidity to her throat. Between the clobbering in her brain and the waves of nausea, not a single solution to the nightmare formed. Instead, her thoughts circled to a hysterical edge. "This can't be happening. I'm going crazy." "Father MacAuley's starting." A chubby-cheeked maid cupped a hand over her mouth and giggled. "Look, Laird Ferguson's dressed in all his finery." Every forearm hair tickled to attention. A dawning sense of impending doom proved a dire contrast to the everyday commotion pulsing around her, the joyful smiles and the rising excitement in the voices of the kitchen helpers. The scent of apples cooking filled the air and the normally comforting aroma became macabre. She eyed the rows of fruit pies on the window ledge, and the bile in her gullet intensified, Tee swallowed once, twice. A flame-haired, freckled cherub giggled. Next to her, a dark beauty crooked her finger at the gaggle of females crowded around a kitchen table. Tee joined them, hovering in 279


the doorway. Throngs packed the banquet hall, and a rumble of buzzing conversation circled the room. In front of the cavernous fireplace stood a man dressed in a long burlap tunic, rope-belted at the waist. A priest. Her insides strummed like a trampoline after a strident workout. Turning her chin a nudge at a time, certain of what she'd see, hoping against hope she was wrong, dread shrouded her entire form as the scene unfolded. Jake, standing beside a striking, voluptuous girl with angelic features, an arm draped around her waist. Tiny's words haunted her, "hang the evidence of the consummation." Jake stroked the peaches of the girl's cheek, a lover's tender gesture. The priest made the sign of the cross and boomed, "Before these witnesses you have sworn your vows to be true to each other as man and wife." Caustic sourness rolled across Tee's tongue. The room spun. Her eyes rolled up in her head. As she sank to the floor, she reached for safety, for the comforting familiarity of her nanna. Groggy and befuddled, she awoke to the sound of crackling. A roaring fire blazed and danced in a familiar stone fireplace. She was back in her nanna's cottage, curled into a ball on the burgundy carpet in front of the sofa. A laid table centered before an empty fire grate held her attention. A half-eaten, brown-crusted round rump of beef and three muffin-shaped Yorkshire puddings drenched in brown gravy decorated an oval porcelain platter. A few leaves of lettuce, a couple of cherry tomatoes, shaved cheese, and a 280


black olive dotted a wooden salad bowl. Bits of fruit and cake clung to a crystal dish. Their dinner. Had it all been a dream, or had she surrendered the last remnants of her tenacious hold on reality? The room spun. It was as if nothing had ever happened— Brodick Castle, Tiny, Alex, Jake. Jake. Bile raced to her mouth. She sprinted up the stairs to the bathroom and emptied the contents of her stomach into the white toilet bowl. Had Jake married sometime in the past? Another series of convulsive retching commanded her, and she vomited again and again. Tears streamed down her face. If Jake and Alex were stuck in the past, she didn't know how to get them back. She'd failed them. Failed Douglas. Failed her parents. Failed the tryouts. Failed at living. Failed at being a witch. Bankrupt, inconsolable, Tee crawled to the bedroom and passed out, succumbing to complete emotional and physical exhaustion. Sirens penetrated her dulled mind. She jerked awake, rolled off the bed, and headed to the bathroom. The alarms rang louder as she washed her face and hands and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. A tear-streaked, swollen face substantiated her utter misery. The horrible wailing grew closer. She held on to the sink for support and leaned across the narrow space to peer out the dusty windowpane. 281


Police cars, six or more, sped up the graveled driveway, screeching to a halt in front of the steps leading to the cottage. Uniformed men dashed up the stairs, and the doorbell ding-donged. She searched the medicine cabinet above the sink, found an aspirin bottle, and shook two pills into her palm. The persistent buzzing formed a nagging background noise as she filled a glass with water and swallowed the tablets with the icy liquid. Life's relentless march when she needed it most to halt. Shoulder slumping, back hunched, Tee trudged down the stairs, each one a descent into an abyss of despair. Where was Jake now? Would she ever see him again? Numbed, resigned, she opened the front door. "Mrs. Trent?" Flood. Figured. What she deserved. What she expected. The other, younger, man stood behind him. "Inspectors." She stepped backwards. "Come in." "Actually, Mrs. Trent you need to accompany us." This from the nicer one. "Where are you taking me?" "To Scotland Yard headquarters in London." "I see." She turned around. "Let me get my coat." "We'll get it for you." Detective Flood grasped her arm. "Get it." The man jerked his head at the wooden coat stand. 282


"You have a habit of suddenly disappearing, and it's not happening on my watch." They conducted the four-hour journey in complete silence. She could've disappeared again, but that meant delaying the inevitable confrontation with the authorities, Tricia, Dad. Each passing mile magnified her imagined arrest, the scandal, her mother's icy disapproval. Slow, measured rage seeped in halfway to London. Fury rankled every pore. Not only did her mother not love her, she didn't like her. Every second of her life to this point, Tee had lived a lie, assumed a mantle someone else wanted her to wear. Losing Jake cleared the layers of disguise. She was a witch. Crossroads. She could strive for the unattainable, Tricia's approval, and deny her inherent powers. Or embrace he conjuring abilities, find the reason she had them in the first place. Use them to find Jake, rescue him. Before her marriage, before Jake, she'd never thought she had options. She did. Dandelion clocks surfaced, and Tee cringed. Then she thought about the two jackets, the fries and shakes for Tiny, her escape from the dungeon, and a certain light-headedness set in. She could do this. Make it work. On her own. For too long she'd relied on the strength of others, Dee, Douglas. Her mother's reaction to her powers colored everything she did from the first time she realized the woman was 283


ashamed of her, embarrassed by her. She remembered being a shy four-year-old, awkward around other children and uncomfortable with adults. On her first day at Montessori school, excited and wanting the others to like her, she'd conjured up treat after treat, cakes, candy, even a white pony with a pink ribbon in her mane. They sent her home, permanently. Confused, hurting, insecure, she turned to her mother for comfort. Instead of soothing words, hugs, and kisses, Tricia had said, "Why can't you be normal? A lady does not draw attention to herself. You need to learn to control your urges, Tallulah, and behave as expected." Those words surfaced time after time during her childhood. When she discovered riding and horses, it became her escape, an outlet for her competitive spirit. Being different and excelling in the equestrian arena meant rewards, acclaim, not punishment and rebukes. For so long, she'd yearned to be just like everyone else—normal—and that required repudiating her talents, hoping if she didn't use them, they'd disappear. Conjuring was an intrinsic part of her, and she wasn't whole without it. Damn it, being different did not mean being inferior. The time had come to learn how to control her special abilities. Tee felt as if she'd crossed some sort of threshold, stood on the edge of a precipice. She was ready to accept her powers and use them when necessary. Sitting up and straightening her shoulders, confident and certain of her direction, she smiled. 284


All along, she'd rejected the surety she felt with Jake, the instinctive knowledge she'd met a kindred spirit, her mate. Leftover insecurity from Tony had clouded her instincts, fueled doubts. From the start, she knew Jake equaled danger to her equilibrium, her false front. Somewhere, somehow, her subconscious accepted him, and it was time to admit she wanted to be with him, forever. She'd fallen in love with him, and she wasn't afraid to jump off the cliff, not anymore. Even if it ended badly, even if it proved painful, she longed to experience love, let him into her deepest recesses, know him in the same way. Exultation rang in her veins, and a feverish excitement seized a hold of her. Her mind centered on Jake, and on occasion, Alex, she never noticed the lush English countryside passing by or the persistent drumming of rain on the SUV's rooftop. Within the last few weeks, she'd experienced more of life than in her first twenty-six years. Tony's attempt on her life had forced an instinctive retreat, a roll-into-a-tight-ball, squeeze-your-eyesshut, and nothing-will-hurt-you-again reaction. Damn it, it had been her reaction all her life. Battered by being different, she became a go-with-the-flow child, then the same kind of adult. That was before her wedding night. No longer would she wait for things to happen. No, from this moment on, she would instigate the events and take charge of her life. Handling Scotland Yard became her first priority, finding a way to rescue Jake the second. And Alex, she amended. She would extricate herself from this situation without involving her father and then return and get Jake and Alex. Resolved, 285


she sifted through scenarios and reasonable explanations for the rest of the journey. They arrived at a white multi-storied building in the heart of London. The car stopped in the center of the two-lane road, blocking traffic, and impatient horns blasted from the vehicles behind them. Flood and another inspector each took one of her arms as she exited from the automobile. "Must you?" She glanced at their hands on her arms. "You have a habit of disappearing, Mrs. Trent." "Believe me, if I wanted to vanish, your arms wouldn't prevent it." Tee spoke through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Trent." The other man lifted a shoulder. "It's protocol." The two men escorted her to a long, narrow, windowless room. "Can I have a room with a view?" she demanded, knowing it would never happen, but she wanted to press their buttons, unnerve them. "What?" Flood did an about-face. "What did you say?" "You heard me. Can I have a room with a view?" "No." The man's florid complexion darkened, and pure venom flashed from piggy mud-colored eyes. "Who do you think you are, the frigging Queen?" As soon as the two men left the room, she conjured up a pot of Earl Grey tea, cream, and a china sugar bowl. She sipped on the fragrant brew and the warm liquid running over her tongue calmed nerves eager to act on her newfound resolution. 286


When the Scotland Yard representatives returned, she hid her mouth with the teacup and considered their faces, suppressing a wild beam. Both men stared at her, jaws dropped. Curled up on an oversized upholstered chaise lounge with her feet tucked under a gold throw, she knew she looked the picture of relaxed elegance, not a care in the world. Leaning forward, Tee poured more tea into her cup from a silver tray on a low oval table. She clamped her lips together to stifle the exultant fit of giggles threatening to erupt. Both men followed her movements as she took a sip of the steaming liquid, their eyes bulging. She almost choked on repressed laughter. "Would either of you gentlemen like a cup?" she offered, amusement fueling her gleeful, wicked enjoyment of their bewilderment. Angry red flushes flashed across Flood's slack jowls. His mouth dropped open and shut once, twice, three times. He looked like a fish underwater. She wanted to crow, but settled for adding a dash of cream to the liquid in her teacup. An argument took place between the two men. Furious whispers sounded throughout the room. Tee heard the men's urgent murmurs. "No, you can't do that, Flood. It goes against the rules." "Frig the rules. I say we put her in a cell." "You're wrong. I don't think she's guilty. For Christ's sake, look at her face. The woman is not worried, not the slightest bit." "You're a fool. That woman is a bitch." 287


A cell phone jingled, and the younger man flipped the earpiece open. "What? Where is he?" he growled into the mouthpiece. Seconds later, he spoke to Flood. "Her father's a friend of the head's, and he has diplomatic immunity. He's demanding to see her." "Frig it. The woman should be locked up." Flood slapped his hand against the counter. "Tough, the head says I have to escort him up." The younger man cleared his throat and turned to face Tee. "Mrs. Trent?" "Yes." "Your father's here." Her pulse accelerated. Henry had come. Flood's menacing stare would have unnerved her before, but not anymore. With an air of finishing school nonchalance, she busied herself pouring another cup of tea and took a sip of the liquid. Flood scowled at her and straddled the entrance to the room, more out than in. He pulled out his cell phone and edged into the hallway, conducting a heated conversation, she could not hear. Impish mischief bedeviled her brain, and she conjured up another surprise for the nasty man. The elevator dinged, and two men emerged from its depths. Henry's face appeared in the doorway. Moisture pooled at the corners of Tee eyes, and a grateful lump of joy clogged her throat as her father walked across the narrow room. 288


"Leave us." Henry waved a hand at the men in the doorway. "Tee, are you okay, honey?" "Mother said you couldn't support me," she blurted. "I don't want to ruin your career." "As if you could, honey." Henry stroked her cheek. "Do you think I'd put anything above you? I love you. You're my daughter. I want your happiness, nothing else." Henry edged onto the chair. Tee collapsed against his chest. "What's wrong, honey?" He wiped her tears with his handkerchief. "I've cleared you of all charges. Tony's actions can't hurt you anymore." He studied her face. "It's Jake, isn't it?" Startled, her eyes flew to his. "How did you know?" "The inspectors' superior, my old friend Arthur Flood—you remember him. He's visited us on and off over the years. He briefed me on all that's happened." He cleared his throat. "Apparently you stayed in Jake's suite at Claridge's for a couple of days. I hadn't realized you two were dating." Her sobs broke out anew. "Dad, I don't know what to do." She stared at her father. "Things seem so confusing. I'm not sure I can trust anyone anymore, even Jake." "I see." He lifted her chin with his finger. "Your mother and I realized that something drastic happened between you and Tony. Is that part of the reason you don't think you can trust Jake?" Her palms grew damp. "Yes. Dad, I need to tell you the truth about Tony and me. It isn't pleasant, and I think it's the reason behind these charges." 289


She served tea for both of them, more as part of a calming ritual than a necessity, and launched into the details. Her father's features grew somber and tight, his mouth flattening as she finished and waited for his reaction. He took the teacup out of her hands and drew her against his chest. "Oh, my darling girl, what a nightmare. I wish you'd come to us. Honey, I'm not a frail old man. I could have protected you. I want you to promise to come to me in the future. I have powerful contacts. I can keep you safe." She read the truth in his faded brown eyes. "I'm sorry, Dad, I should have had more faith in you. I realize that now. I think the reason I didn't is because you and Mother have always refused to believe I was different. Dad, I'm not like normal people." "Are you referring to your special abilities, honey?" "Special abilities?" Her voice wavered. "Do you remember your first day at Montessori school?" The leathery skin around his eyes crinkled, and an endearing smile played about his mouth. "And your special friend?" "Nicker, the fairy only I could see?" Henry nodded. "The chocolates and the cakes?" "That was part of it, Daughter. You admitted to wishing for the candies. Your teacher said she left the schoolroom, and the tables were empty. When she returned two minutes later, they were laden with every chocolate and cupcake imaginable. You boasted about wishing for them." Her blood ran cold. "I don't remember you being there." 290


"I wasn't, honey. Your mother called me from the school when they spotted you on the roof." "Oh, the roof, I forgot about that part." Her cheeks grew hot. "You said you wanted to see Santa's sleigh." "I wanted to see if Rudolph's nose glowed," she confessed. "A four-year-old can't climb two stories to a roof. It's physically impossible. I decided then to keep a close eye on you." "You never said anything. Why?" "Remember, right after that, we went to Barbados for Christmas, and you met Desdemona for the first time. And I met Douglas Graham." "Douglas told you." She guessed. "Yes, he also informed me about Desdemona and the other seven of you. He had all of your futures mapped out. Douglas said you nine were his mission in life, that it was his sole duty to protect and educate you in your special abilities." "I don't understand. If you've known all along, why send me away to boarding school?" Her eyes misted at the memory of leaving home at six years of age. "Douglas said that particular boarding school would be a haven for you. He knew several of the teachers on staff, and he told me they would cater to your special needs. You were happy there, weren't you?" She nodded. "We all were, but why didn't you tell me you knew about my powers, um, special abilities, before now?" "Douglas advised me not to speak of it. He said you had to learn to cope with, as he put it, living in the mortal world." 291


Henry kissed her cheek. "I've often regretted listening to him." "Oh." She laid her head against her father's strong shoulder. "Why didn't you, not listen, I mean?" "You blossomed at the boarding school, and then you found riding. You seemed happy enough. And then Tony came along. I was tempted to speak to you then, but Douglas advised me not to." "Why? What were you going to speak to me about?" "I had reservations about Tony. Fate was the only reason Douglas offered for me not interfering. But we digress, Daughter. Did you tell Jake the truth? Does he know of your special abilities?" "Yes, I think he accepts me for what I am." Her tremulous smile faded. "He's real, Dad, not like Tony. I like him a lot." "Jake's been your support after Tony's death. Your mother and I realized he must care a great deal for you. Don't look so surprised, honey. Jake could've closed down the Trinidad office without ever stepping foot on the island. When he started showing up once a week and asked you to help him sort things out, well, it doesn't take a genius IQ to extrapolate. Even before the wedding, I noticed the way he looked at you. I half hoped you'd call the whole thing off." "Do you know that first time I met Jake, my reaction to him scared me. Instead of facing it, I buried it. The old coward in me advised, Go with the flow. I never told you what happened on my honeymoon night because Tony turned me into a coward, and you never asked any questions, even after I refused to move to Greenbriar." 292


"We knew something drastic and horrible had happened. However, you declined to answer questions, and we were so afraid to push you or leave you alone. You seemed on the brink of collapse. When Dee told me you agreed to do an exhibition ride recently, I knew you were coming back to us. Do you realize that from your wedding night to three weeks ago, you hadn't ridden Cherry? Not even fed him. Your horses have always been more important than most people to you, honey, and the fact you neglected them really scared us." "I think I finally grew up over the last few weeks, Dad. I'm ready to take control of my life." She hesitated, but pressed on. "Does Tricia know about my special abilities?" Henry hesitated. "You must understand your mother will never accept or acknowledge them." "I guess I realized that fact years ago." "She loves you in her own way, honey." "Dad, Mother's afraid of me. Every so often I catch a glimpse of it in her eyes." "Your mother is not the most reasonable person around, not when it comes to something out of the ordinary. Give her time." He took out his handkerchief. "I'm so glad we've cleared the air, honey. I want you to know you can rely on me. I love you, and I hope I've made the right decisions on your behalf." "Oh, Dad." She collapsed against his chest. "I just wish you'd spoken to me before." "I wanted to." He wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Now, where's this Jake of yours?" Tee swallowed. "That's a long story." 293


A knock sounded on the door. "Probably those inspectors returning. Dry your eyes, honey." Henry rose to his feet and gave her a folded white handkerchief. She wiped the linen square across her eyes, stood up, and straightened her spine into rigid finishing school posture, but bit her lip. "It's okay, honey." He chucked her chin up. "I'm the president of a nation. My daughter is immune to all of this." He grinned. "Blast it, Tee, if I can't rescue my own daughter, who can I save?" The metal door opened, and the two inspectors trailed into the room behind a tall man dressed in an immaculate pinstriped navy suit, starched white shirt, and a dark tie. She waited for the men to react to the stone fireplace gracing the wall behind her, and devilish delight had her almost bursting into loud laughter. Both men stared at the flames dancing and snapping up the flue, mouths open. The cut they gave her proved satisfying as all hell, and she recognized the hint of fear in their eyes. "Arthur, how are you?" Henry extended his hand. "Henry. So good to see you again. I understand congratulations are in order, president of a nation, no less." The man pumped her dad's hand. "News travels fast." Henry draped an arm over her shoulder. "Honey, you remember Sir Arthur Flood. He visited us years ago. Arthur and I were at boarding school and then university together. He's the assistant commissioner for 294


Specialist Operations here at the Met. Arthur, this is my daughter, Tallulah Trent." "Call me Tee, please." She glared at her dad. "Good, you're getting your spirits back. That's my girl." She glanced from Inspector Flood to Sir Arthur. "Are you two related?" "Dismissed, gentlemen." He nodded at the two men. "I'll take it from here." For long seconds, the gaping men didn't respond to his command. "Dismissed," Sir Arthur barked. The two men snapped to attention and trudged to the open doorway, glancing from Tee to the fire every step of the way, and closed the door an inch at a time until it clicked shut. "Flood is my nephew by marriage and currently is on loan to a task force of a combined Europol and Interpol division tasked at investigating drug-related financial fraud. I hope my men treated you well, my dear." "Of course," she murmured. "Dad, you said the Met. I thought we were at Scotland Yard." Her forehead creased. "Scotland Yard comes under the umbrella of the Met, also known as the Metropolitan Police." "I see." "I had no idea we had such a charming room." Sir Arthur's brow furrowed. He surveyed the furniture, the tea service, and the fireplace. "I'm positive the architectural plans don't mention a fireplace in the building." Heat sizzled her skin, and she knew color stained every inch of exposed flesh. 295


"Arthur, where do we stand?" Henry asked. "All pending charges against your daughter have been dropped. I'm afraid my man who's the head of the Europol and Interpol financial division still needs to speak with you, Tallulah." "Tee, please. Why do they want to talk to me, Sir Arthur?" "I believe it's primarily concerning your husband's movements during the last few months prior to his death. My colleague will meet us at my club for lunch tomorrow. Some simple questions and this will all be behind you." "Is this all about the money in Tony's account?" "Yes, I'm afraid it is, my dear." Arthur glanced at his watch. "I'm late for a meeting. Where are you two staying, Henry?" "At Grosvenor House. I've left my mobile number with security and your competent assistant." Tee cleared her throat. "Yes, yes. Well, we'll catch up later, Arthur. I need to take my daughter back to the hotel." The inspectors escorted them out of the building. Flood's intent stare made her palms grow damp; the man had a way of making her feel guilty. "Honey, I have to check in at the embassy. Why don't I drop you off at the hotel?" He patted her knee. "You look like you could use a nap. Call your mother when you're settled." "Okay, I'll be fine." His worried expression prompted her to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for everything."

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"It's the first time I can be your knight in shining armor." Henry grinned. "I think I like it. Don't go getting into any more scrapes, though." After showering and dressing, Tee took the Tube to Claridge's. The gray skies and steady, chill drizzle hastened her movements. She counted all the Graham men involved in their lives, Douglas, George Brown, and Tiny. Somehow, a thread connected all these odd coincidences, and maybe George could provide answers. [Back to Table of Contents]

297


Mirror Images Footsteps pounded down the hallway. Tiny screeched to a halt in front of them. "Laird Ramsay's called for the priest. He's says the handfasting will be held tonight. Jake's eyes crossed. "Wonderful." "What's the plan?" "Who the hell knows? Let's assess the situation firsthand." Unable to face Tee's questions, he'd sneaked out of their bed this morning as soon as a hint of sunlight hit the window. "Damn it. Alex, let's find a quiet spot and try to come up with a solution to this farce." "About time. I'm tired of this century. I want a hot shower and a long, relaxing bout in a steam room." They decided the great outdoors might be the safest bet and headed to the luxuriant line of pine forest behind the castle. Finding a couple of tree stumps, they settled down, long legs stretched side by side. "Let's start with Tony. I thought of something from my last security report when you mentioned the caretaker thing. He had six employees listed for the Trinidad operation. Five people clocked in at the Port of Spain office, but one drew a sizable monthly salary, no records of clocking in." "Name?" "Only a last name, Charles." "In Trinidad, that's like Smith in the US. Thousands of them." 298


Smoke curled out of a chimney on the right of the castle, and the smell of roasting meat wafted on a slight breeze. "If we had a photo of the man, we could narrow the field. Any chance of procuring one when we get back?" "I never checked for personnel files after the burglary. Maybe. You think the caretaker's connected to us being here?" "Heck if I know. I'm doing what I always do when faced with a dilemma, following anything unusual." Alex scrunched his hair with both hands. "Have to tell you, Jake, I'm beginning to lose my cool. I have a sinking feeling this is not a dream, and I'm not waking up anytime soon." "Wish I could offer some hope. It's all too real." "I am not staying in this century," Alex said through gritted teeth. He closed his eyes. "Right. Let's concentrate on what we do know. Before I continue, what exactly did this vision of yours entail?" "Graziella Leandro and the caretaker with a hostage." "Tee?" Jake nodded. "Crap. If Tony was involved in drug running." "Caretaker's the perfect position." "Stick a pin," Alex said. "Stick a pin?" "Tee says it, means hold that thought." Jake crushed a few rust-hued leaves in his hand and let the papery remnants dust off a palm. Without looking up, he said, "I asked her to move in with me." 299


Alex's astonishment proved almost comical, jaw dropped, eyebrows at his hairline, blue eyes dilated. "Crap. You're a goner." A chill wind cooled skin turned fiery in embarrassment, Jake avoided his friend's gaze, and said, "Back to the situation. We have three Grahams and one trunk. A handfasting ceremony at dusk, which is going to prove difficult to avoid, and parents I've never met showing up." "There's one aspect of this that's puzzling, and it's something we have to consider. Everyone accepts you as their laird, except Tiny." "Hell, of course he accepts me. He bought me one day with his deal with the elder Ramsay." "Trust me, he's watching you and Tee like he's anticipating victory." "Okay, set him aside for a moment. What's bugging you about them accepting me as laird?" "Why have they?" "According to Tiny, I've been gone for years. What's not to accept?" "Tiny recognized you, Jake. He identified you, basically he validated you. Why?" Patches of blue sky disappeared with mercurial speed as charcoal clouds gathered into tight bunches. Sudden gusts hit the small clearing, whipping pine needles and ashy leaves to a frenzy. "Tee seems to trust him, though she says he's ambitious." "Suppose he has some sort of takeover strategy? Even I can tell this is a rich holding. And we've only his word your 300


parents are on the way. And them being away bothers the crap out of me. One, they left on a mysterious journey, and no one seems to know their destination. Two, why would your fiancée and her family come now when they're gone? Three, Tiny said your father ceded control of Brodick to him." "Points taken. Possibilities?" "We hightail it out of here before dusk, preferably within the next hour. And stay away while observing the comings and goings. If your parents arrive, we consider coming back. There are over two hundred warriors on the grounds, and they're spilling for a fight. We're outnumbered and outmaneuvered." "Let's get Tee. I have a feeling we may be doing too little too late," Jake said as he tugged on his earlobe. Silence ruled their return journey, but as they climbed the stairs to the fairy room, Alex asked, "What about the trunk? You seemed intent on finding it." "It's our only way back to the present as far as I can figure. Tee can't take us there." They arrived at the attic, and Jake edged open the door. "Are you decent, babe?" He didn't expect a warm welcome, but he never anticipated an empty room. "She's not here. Blast, blast, blast. Where the hell did she go? You don't think she'd venture outside, do you?" "Where would she go? It's not as if she knows anyone here. Wait a minute, her horse. She asked Tiny about him last night, wanted to feed him, but he said he'd take care of it." 301


Alex tapped a finger against his chin. "She was pretty insistent." "I should've thought of that. Hell and damnation, a woman like her with all those blasted warriors." He rubbed a circle around the back of his neck. "I'll take the stables. You find Tiny. Try to avoid raising suspicion." "Yeah, right, as if that's possible. By the way, where's Tee? She seems to be missing. And I'm not going to arouse suspicion?" He grabbed Jake's arm. "Hang on. Take a look at this room. Are the walls blushing like she does?" "It must be the light. Where did the shower come from? And isn't that the bed from her nanna's cottage?" He opened the glass shower stall door and swiped a finger. "Wet, warm, she was here. Not too long ago. Okay, remember that pulsing I told you about? It's happening big time. That trunk's close." A thread of restless agitation swirled up Jake's spine. The hair at the nape of his neck bristled. When a search of the four stables turned up nothing, he checked Brandy to see if the horse had been groomed. Tee had a habit of braiding the stallion's mane or tail, creating a different pattern every day. It amused him to watch her frown and carry on a conversation with the animal, speaking to him as if he could answer. Yesterday, the creature's tail swished a long waterfall. Today, an intricate plait spiraled the dark hair. About to leave, he spied scarlet dotting the strawed floor. A black scrunchie lay next to the spot, and his chest caved, and he imagined the worst. 302


Fear rose hot and wild in his throat. Cold sweat trickled down his temple, swathing panic with every slow drizzle. He studied the scuffed straw and dirt identifying several sets of shoe prints. All the evidence pointed to a struggle. Further exploration revealed a bloodstained poker. Cold dread settled low in Jake's belly, and murderous rage overthrew any logical thinking. He saw everything through a crimson swathe. On his way back to the hidden entrance, every effort centered on Tee's safety, he almost collided with the Ramsay brothers, ducking into the forest to avoid them. By the time he made it back to the attic, anxiety-frazzled nerves had taken their toll, and when he saw Alex's damp hair and smelled shampoo, he snapped. "You showered? At a time like this, you blasted well took the time to shower?" "Christ, Jake. Panicking is not going to help. We need cool heads." "She was in the stables. I found a bloody poker." "Let's not jump to conclusions. There could be another explanation." "What? She braided Brandy's tail sometime today, yesterday she'd one his mane, not his tail. And I found this." He held up the scrunchie. "Crap. I saw her conjure that myself." Alex sat up straight. "Who'd attack her? And what would they do with her? Christ, don't answer that. I couldn't find Tiny. And those Ramsays are looking for you. We have to leave now, Jake, or risk them grabbing you." 303


"Not without her. They could be raping her right now. You think I could leave? I'm blasted well searching this damned castle from top to bottom. She has to be here somewhere." "We can't risk them seeing you. Wait here. Let me find Tiny. I'll bring him here. Caveman instincts won't win the day. I'll check the kitchen. One of the kitchen maids said Tee was there before she left to go to the attic." "I'm coming with you. I can't sit here and stew. They get me—they get me. Let them try to force me to consummate the handfasting. Not about to happen." "I'll go first." Alex opened the door and poked his head out. He snapped it back inside, slammed the door shut, and leaned against the rough wood, his mouth opening and closing like the fish in a koi pond. Alex's ashen face made Jake's pulse race, and the dazed panic in those cobalt eyes sent rivulets of cold sweat dripping down his spine. "What?" His friend's jaw dropped open. It closed and opened again. No words came out. "Is it Tee?" Alex shook his head. "Uh-uh. Not." "What's beyond that door? The Loch Ness Monster?" "Uh-uh." "Damn it, what the hell's wrong with you? You're never speechless. No, you make up a duke for a father." "Yeah, well this is retribution time. I know why everyone accepted you as the laird," he said and took a wheezy inhale. "Look." His voice cracked, but he opened the door. 304


Jake glared at him and stuck his head out the narrow opening. Stunned, he stepped into the hallway, propelled forward on autopilot, brain and body in disconnect. A man with his features confronted him. Everything happened in slow motion. Jake's mind reeled. He gulped, held out his hand, palm outwards, and grazed the man's brown coat. Rough wool scraped his fingertips. The other man's fierce scrutiny seemed as intent as Jake's, but he remained silent. A mirror trick, it had to be. He circled. His mirror image moved with him. Alex seemed to recover from his initial shock, and he took an investigative position on the wall, leaning one shoulder into it, and crossing one ankle over the other. "Right in front of my eyes and I didn't get it." "Who the hell are you?" Jake demanded. "Your brother." "Don't touch me. Get back," Jake growled as he jumped out of range. "I have no brother." "I'm your elder brother." The man snorted. "The heir. By four hours, according to our mother." He poked a finger into Jake's chest. "I have no brother. And don't touch me again if you value your life." Alex's piercing whistle punctuated the air. "What?" Jake's question resonated in the narrow hallway, but his eyes never wavered from the other man. 305


"I think you'd better listen to him. Unless I miss my guess, you guys are identical twins."Alex studied the fingernails of one hand, his lips twitching. "Don't be a jackass. You and I grew up together in an orphanage. You know very well I have no brother." "I am Stephen Kieran Ferguson, your brother, elder by four hours." "What in the blasted hell do you keep repeating that? Like four hours makes a difference? I need a drink." "A magical chest brought you home." Jake felt as if he'd moved inside a glacier, the blood drained from his head to his pink toes. It hurt to breathe. He met the man's sable eyes, which darkened as his mouth curved into a rueful smile. "You know about the trunk? Then you must know where it is." Alex said in his clipped interrogator tone. He straightened. "Stop it, Alex. Shut up for a blasted minute," Jake barked. He stepped backwards, edging into the attic room. "Not only did I grow up in an orphanage, I live in the year 2007." "Where you met our mother's brother, Douglas Graham, and he gave you a magical chest. When you opened it, you came to our time, and Tiny Graham guided you here." Jake strained to get air into his lungs. "You have a mother, Elaine, a father, Kieran, and a sister, Helen." The man's quiet, even tone froze Jake's movements. "I think you'd better listen to him." Alex insinuated himself between the two men and glanced from one face to the other. "You're identical twins." 306


"Alex, don't." "You even have the same scar." Alex touched one finger to Jake's eyebrow, and another to Stephen's, at a spot where a scar slashed the dark hairs. "It can't be." "It makes sense. Think about it. It explains everything, all the coincidences, the trunk, the Grahams. Everything that's happened over the past few days." Alex paused. "At least give him a chance to explain." "Thank you." The man inclined his head towards Alex. He waved towards a new room at the end of the hallway. "Come, I will tell you the tale." "Where did that room come from?" Alex asked. "That mystifies you, but not an identical twin? No, that one's a piece of cake," Jake snapped, fighting to regain control of his blasted life, of this reeling situation, and damned angry with Alex's blasé acceptance of an impossible twin brother. "I believe Tiny explained this is the fairy addition to Brodick. It changes to accommodate us. These are my quarters. They appear while I'm in residence." "Fascinating. What happens when you leave?" Relaxed curiosity tinkered Alex's blue gaze, and Jake glared at him. "They vanish. 'Tis a means of protection." Gesturing to a small square table in the center of the room, Stephen smiled and said, "Sit. Whisky?" Jake slumped into a chair and surveyed the room. Leather and wood furniture, dark and oversized, but oozing comfort and hinting of a luxury beyond the current century's 307


capabilities, dominated the large space. Flames blazed and crackled in a marble fireplace with ornate carvings. After delivering a glass of whisky to each man, Stephen sat opposite them and stretched out, long legs crossing at the ankles. "Welcome home, Brother. Our mother will be overjoyed." Jake swigged his liquor and gritted his teeth at the fierce burn. "Our mother, Elaine, is an Elfish princess." "I'm not staying here to listen to a blasted fairy tale." Jake blew out an exasperated breath. Undeterred Stephen Ferguson continued, "She married a mortal, the Scottish Laird Kieran Ferguson, against her family's wishes. The Elfish ring of elders banished her from their realm. You and I are her firstborn children. She didn't expect twins. I came first, and the midwife left the birthing room to attend to me." Bells pealed. "Ah, the feasting begins. I will hasten my explanation." Stephen swallowed a generous portion of whisky. "Mother was alone in the room when you came into the world. She was weak, dazed, and thought she gave you to another midwife to care for, but it was a sea kelpie sent by the elders to steal you away." "Why? Why would they do that?" "To punish her for marrying a mortal. The ultimate pain for a mother, to be separated from her child," Stephen explained. Jake's head throbbed, the dull headache becoming sharper with each word Stephen spoke, and his mind verged on the 308


brink of implosion. "Then this whole thing isn't just a series of wild coincidences?" "No. The Grahams have served the Fergusons throughout time. They are a family of warlocks. The chest is Douglas's creation, but designed by our mother to return you to her side," Stephen said and elbowed out of the plush chair. Bells pealed in an insistent clamor. "We must go. The feasting is about to start." Stephen strode towards the doorway. "Feasting?" Stephen grinned at them over his shoulder. "For my handfasting." "You're the one handfasting. Thank God. Tee will be so relieved." Jake shot to his feet. "Tee. Damn. How could I forget, even for a minute?" "We cannot tarry. Already the Ramsays are displeased because I refused to consummate the ceremony. Come, Mother and Da await us for a few private words." "They know we're here?" "She is an Elfish princess with a knowing touch. We cut our journey short when the trunk returned to her. She knew then." "Pinch me, Alex," Jake ordered. "I'm so tired of being confused." "I know the feeling," Alex muttered. "And I'm not at the center of everything. I am so grateful I'm not you." "Thanks a lot, buddy." "Anytime." 309


As they trudged down the staircase, following Stephen's impatient bouncing steps, he asked, "Alex, are we insane?" "I don't think so. Although the circumstances definitely warrant a plea of insanity." Alex cuffed his shoulder. "Cheer up. It can't get much worse." "Oh God. Yes, it can." He straightened. "Where the hell is Tee? We can't go to this feast. I have to find her." "I believe our mother can tell you where to find the woman you seek." "Are you sure?" "Aye." Stephen halted before the doorway. "I should warn you. Mother is weepy." "Huh?" "She sheds tears easily." Stephen tapped his finger against the dimple on his chin. "She's also very affectionate. Indulge her, or I'll beat you to a pulp." Jake stumbled through a doorway and bumped into a petite feminine form. Slender arms encircled his waist. "Let me look at you." Tears streamed down the woman's high cheekbones. Her tiny hand rose and stroked his cheek. She buried her head against Jake's chest. "I've waited so long for this day." His hands fisted, and his spine stiffened even as the velocity of his erratic heartbeat jumped and stuttered, fear and something close to joy swathing a furious path like a riptide current in a bay. He suspended thought, afraid of being swept into unmanageable depths, unknown territory. 310


Stephen's eyes met his over the top of his mother's head. Jake swallowed. He looked down. His mother. Large sable eyes the exact shape of his threatened to consume her face. They glistened with moisture. Everything registered at a distance, snippets worming their way into his consciousness. "Jamie, you're home." Her fingers felt like butterfly's wings on his skin. "My name is Jake." "I named you James Michael Ferguson." "Elaine, give the boy some time to digest everything." The clipped order came from a strapping man standing behind his mother. He reached around, detached the woman's arms from Jake's waist, and drew her to his side. "I'm Kieran Ferguson, your father." Alex cleared his throat and coughed. "I'm Alex Mayfield, a friend of Jake's, Jamie's." He stepped into the room and stretched out his hand. Kieran Ferguson shook it. "Welcome to Brodick Castle, Alex Mayfield." Tiny appeared in the doorway. His mouth dropped open. He stared first at Jake and then at Stephen. "Laird," he said and looked from one to the other. "Who's the laird?" "He is." Jake pointed to his brother. "Aye." Tiny scratched his ear. "Who does the witch belong to then?" "Me." Jake flinched. "Tee. Where is she?" 311


"A slight mishap. Some of the men decided to have her make gold for them. A fierce temper, that one. Did you know she can make gnats rain? And only on certain persons?" Tiny chuckled, a low belly laugh erupting. "None of the lads are likely to touch her again." "Blast it, where the hell is she?" "She was in the dungeon." "And now?" he ground out. "Vanished." "Sweetling, she's returned to your time." His mother's voice, low and musical, rang in Jake's ears. They reached the hall, and he followed the group of them to a rough set of benches and tables and took a seat next to Alex. Brodick Castle's cavernous banquet room echoed with the murmur of men in conversation. Warriors bearing an assortment of weapons loitered around long benches and tables. The scent of meat roasting permeated the room. Jake supported his chin with his palms and stared into space, oblivious to his companions. "Do you think Tee's at her nanna's cottage?" Alex nudged his elbow, jerking it out from under his chin. He shook his head. "I couldn't make a flying guess. I'm so blasted frustrated, and my mind can't seem to get round all this." Jake flicked a couple of fingers at the hall. Tiny dropped a pitcher of ale on the grooved wood and clambered onto the bench. He grabbed three mugs from the center of the table and shoved one each to the other two men. 312


"Just what the doctor ordered." Alex grinned at Tiny and gave him a high five. Tiny's slap almost sent him off the bench. "Ouch. Not so hard." Tiny poured ale into the three cups, spilling copious amounts in the process. "We have to toughen you up, pretty boy, make you into a real man. Have you noticed how clean he always is, Laird?" "I'm not the laird, my brother is." Jake took a swallow of his beer. "Aye, he is, but so are you. Stephen is the heir, but you're a laird too, of some smaller holding, on an island somewhere. Remember hearing of it once. I heard a wee tale of your witch in the kitchens. She witnessed the laird's handfasting and fainted and vanished." "Damn," Jake groaned. "She doesn't know about Stephen. She'll think it was me. That's the last straw. I give up." "For Chrissake, stop moaning and groaning. The woman adores you. A simple explanation is all it'll take, and you two will be cavorting in public again." Alex threw a couple of logs onto the fire and prodded them with an iron poker. "I don't think it's going to be that easy." His gut told him Tee'd keep him hanging. She'd never agree to move in. He'd made a mistake with the money and the house. The idea didn't appeal to her. Why not? Marriage. She said she didn't want it, but didn't every woman? Every relationship he witnessed fell apart after the blasted ceremony, even hers. People stopped trying, took each other for granted from the minute the ink dried on the certificate. 313


"I wonder if your brother has visions," Alex mused and used the metal stick to rearrange the logs in the fireplace. Flames licked up the flue, and the wood snapped and sent orange sparks flying in a wide arc. "Best ask him yourself. 'Tis a well-kept secret whether Stephen inherited your mother's magic or nay." "The attic room would seem to confirm that, no?" "Ah, pretty boy, when the Fae are involved, nothing is as it seems." Tiny chugged the rest of his ale. "You have the second sight?" "Maybe." Admitting it didn't come easy. He'd hidden the secret for so long, but if it saved Tee, he'd shout it to the world. "This is all well and good. It explains everything, but we have a life to get back to, issues to settle." "He means Tee." "Aye, I can see that. A powerful itch." "Don't you think you can spend a few minutes with your mother, Jake? She keeps looking this way with such sad eyes." "Instant family doesn't mean instant affection. It doesn't even mean instant like, if that ass Stephen is anything to go by. It's going to take a while to digest all this. I wouldn't know what to say to her anyway." "Now who's being the ass? Christ, she's your mother, and she hasn't seen you since you were a newborn. Think of her. Make the damned effort." "I can't, okay? Not right now."

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"Jamie, will you join us at the head table tonight?" Elaine Ferguson strode to her son. She stroked his bare forearm and his flesh warmed under her fingers. He went rigid, trying not to flinch. "Jake, my name is Jake." "Jake, then. We will celebrate your homecoming. This eve, you will meet your clan and your people." "I don't plan on staying here, so it doesn't make any sense for me to meet anyone," he snapped. "Jake, you could be nice. She's your mother, for crying out loud." Alex's clipped voice silenced the room. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth." He lurched to his feet, stepped back, and his mother's hand fell away. "I am not going to live here." "And you don't have to. However, you do owe your mother civility. What an insufferable boor you are, Brother." Stephen growled. He picked Elaine off the floor, turned her in his arms, and hugged her. "Give him time, Mother. Is he always so angry and rude, Alex?" Stephen set Elaine on her feet. "Pretty much." Alex shrugged. "We grew up in a boys' home without the softness of women. We're not used to lots of affection." "Well." Elaine fisted her hands on slender hips. "You both will have to get used to affection. Mountains of it. I kiss and embrace the people I love all the time. Pick me up, Jamie, kiss me on the cheek, and then embrace me." "I, um," Jake stammered. Elaine stamped her foot. "Now, Son." "Better do it, Brother." 315


Jake did as ordered. When he brushed Elaine's cheeks with his lips, he smelled roses, and immediately his thoughts turned to Tee. Elaine's arms snuck around his waist. She laid her head on his chest. Jake felt wetness through his cotton shirt. "Don't cry, please. I can't stand to see a woman cry." He stroked her back. "Please stop crying." She sobbed into his chest. He gulped. "Please stop." Her sobs grew louder, more frantic. "What should I do?" he asked Stephen. His brother grinned. "I warned you. She's weepy, is our mother. Just hold her, and she'll stop eventually." Elaine's crying subsided into muffled gasps. She reached across and smacked Stephen on the arm, turned her face sideways, and said, "Don't mock your mother." "Yes, Mother dearling. Father, can you relieve poor Jamie? He looks as if he'll turn purple soon." "Jake," he muttered, "My name is Jake." Servants carrying platters of food trudged into the banquet hall. Glasses clinked. Metal clattered. "Elaine dearling." Kieran tapped his wife's shoulder. "Come, Wife. Give our son some breathing room." She pushed off Jake's chest and smiled up at him, tears still streaming down her pink cheeks. Elaine patted his jaw. "As usual, Husband, you're right." She wiped her eyes and dried her hands on her skirt. "Why don't you want to stay here, Jamie?" "What?" 316


Alex rolled his eyes. Elaine halted two maids holding large pitchers. "Take those over there." She pointed to the head table. "Do you like red or white wine, Jamie?" "Jake. Both, either is fine." "Which do you prefer, Jamie?" "Jake. Red, I prefer red." "Alex, why does Jamie want to leave Brodick?" "Do you know where we came from Lady Ferguson?" Alex asked. "Call me Elaine, sweet boy. You have such a beautiful face, not that yours isn't perfectly handsome, Jamie. Do you even have whiskers?" She tiptoed and rubbed her hand across Alex's cheek. Tiny broke into loud guffaws. Alex glowered at him. "We came from the year 2007," he offered. "Oh, how interesting. Jamie, you don't want to stay because you prefer the future?" Elaine directed a manservant carrying a silver platter bearing a small suckling pig to the head table. Aromatic smells from cooked apples and succulent roasted pork permeated the air. "Yes, no. I don't know." Jake's brain seemed stuck on rewind. "He wants to go back to find Tee." Alex's bald statement punctuated the noisy clanking of dishes and silverware. "Tee's Jamie's witch," Stephen added. Elaine's blur of activity stopped abruptly. She spun on her heels and stuck her chin out. "You own a witch?" 317


Jake thought he saw smoke coming out of her ears. "Of course not. One human being can't own another." He looked to Stephen for guidance. His brother shrugged. He was on his own. "So, exactly who is this Tee?" Elaine tapped a slippered foot against the stone floor. "I'm waiting, Jamie." "Jake," he muttered. "Tee is my, um, my"—he hunted the room for an escape—"my girlfriend," he blurted out. "Girlfriend?" Elaine repeated. The fragile peach skin on her forehead crinkled. "Are you courting this Tee?" "Yes." He sighed, relieved the end of the interrogation appeared in sight. "You love this Tee?" Elaine probed. Love, Jake thought. He didn't know if it was love he felt. He just knew the thought of never seeing her again scared him harebrained. His heart ached with need. A cataclysmic realization hit him; it deep-sixed rational thought, behavior. He wanted Tee for a lifetime, not a month, not three, forever—till death do us part forever. And she'd wanted three days. "Leave the boy alone, Elaine," Kieran ordered. His tone brooked no argument. "Alex, does Tee love Jamie?" "Oh no. I'm not getting between the two of you." Alex shook his head. "Ask Jake, not me." "Tee may be in trouble. I need to get back to her." Jake swallowed, and he looked his mother straight in the eye. "She needs me." "Will you stay for the evening meal, Son?" 318


"I don't know how to get back to her or even where she is." Jake shrugged. "I'll be here until I can figure something out." Elaine tiptoed. "Bend down, Son." He dropped his head. She kissed his cheek. "Close your eyes."At his grimace, she shook her head. "Don't argue with your mother. Close your eyes." Jake let his lids fall. "Open your hands." Something small but heavy dropped into his palms. "You can open your eyes now, Son." His eyelids flew up, and he broke into a broad smile. "Is it?" Elaine had dropped an exact copy of Douglas's miniature trunk into his hands. "When you open it, it will take you where you want to go." Ecstatic, Jake picked Elaine up with one hand and kissed her cheek. "Thank you." He paused and added, "Mother." "Oh, Son. Jamie, I love you." A tear rolled down her cheek. "Oh no. Don't start." He cringed and waited for the waterworks to flood his mother's face. However, she smiled wanly, sniffed a couple of times, and her pink mouth settled into a satisfied, maternal smile of contentment. "Jamie, there is a caveat attached to my gift. I am forbidden from traveling through time unless I find a way around a spell set on me when I married your father. I cannot travel to you, but you can use the chest to come to me. Whosoever touches you while you open the lid travels with 319


you. There are Gaelic words carved into the trunk. When you speak them and open the lid, it will take you to me, wherever I am. This chest is designed to magnify your gifts, whatever they are. Use it wisely and sparsely." Jake nodded. "Of course." He hesitated. "If Alex and I touch the chest when I open it, he'll come with me?" "Yes, Jamie, once he's next to you. It's best if only the people who will travel are in the room. If you're not traveling to me, then you must use the trunk differently. Know where you want to go, place and time, close your eyes, and visualize it in detail. Then lift the chest's lid. Do not speak the Gaelic words." The evening meal seemed interminable. Jake focused on conversing with his mother and father. Stephen and Tiny made caustic comments about every aspect of his and Alex's appearance and behavior. By the time the servants served the last course, Jake's impatience threatened to overwhelm his good manners. Kieran rescued him by rising from the table and toasting their safe journey. Jake jumped down from the dais. "Come on, buddy. The attic room." He strode to the staircase. Halfway there he halted, pivoted, and walked back to the table. He kissed his mother and shook hands with his brother and his father. "I'll be back," he promised. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Grosvenor Glee The chest took Jake and Alex back to the Davies suite at Claridge's. While Alex grumbled about their missing belongings, Jake took the elevator to the lobby. To his utter relief, he saw George Brown's sandy-blond shock of hair bent over the concierge desk. Brown tapped a pen against his temple. As Jake approached, he caught a glimpse of the Times crossword puzzle. "George, you cannot begin to imagine how good it is to see your face." Jake beamed at him and clapped him on his shoulder. "Mr. Mathews, sir, wonderful to see you again. You may be interested to know Mrs. Trent stopped by earlier today." He wanted to kiss the man. "Tee was here. Thank God." He clapped George on the shoulder again. Brown straightened and took two steps back effectively putting himself out of the range of Jake's arm. "What did she want? Why isn't she in the suite upstairs? Hell, I didn't check her room. Is she upstairs?" "Mrs. Trent is not in the Davies suite. I believe she's staying with her father at Grosvenor House." "I wonder why Henry's in London." Jake drummed his fingers on the desk. "It doesn't matter. Why did she stop by?" "Looking for you, sir." Three vertical lines formed in between Brown's eyebrows. "How long was Tee here?" 321


George cleared his throat. "Actually, sir, Mrs. Trent had lunch with my mother. They spoke for some time." "How did that come about?" Brown groaned. "It's a sin for a grown man to have to admit this, sir. My mother walked me to work. She met your wife, ah, I mean Mrs. Trent in the women's facilities. Mrs. Trent invited her to lunch." "Do you know Grosvenor House at all?" "I certainly do, Mr. Mathews. My cousin is the concierge at the Grosvenor." An idiotic smile spread across his face. "You're my man, George Brown. I presume Tee and Henry are staying in a suite. By chance, can you find out which one?" "Of course. My cousin's on duty until," he said and checked his watch, "midnight. I'll ring him up." "I know this is stretching it, but do you think you can get me a key to the suite tonight? I'd like to surprise Tee." "Ah, Mr. Mathews, I relish a challenge." He quirked an eyebrow. "It'll take me half an hour to arrange everything." "My debt to you is going to rival the US national deficit." Brown cleared his throat. "I took the liberty of ordering the maids to clear everything from your suite while the detectives were in pursuit of you three. I have a few odds and ends and some of Mrs. Trent's nightwear." "Is there anything you really want in life?" Jake saw a flicker in the other man's hazel eyes. "There is. Tell me about it."

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"I fancy owning a pub and a bed and breakfast on an island in the Caribbean. I buy a lottery ticket weekly. Who knows?" "Who indeed? Hold that thought." Callum Ferguson's land in Tobago sprang to mind, and he grinned. "We may be able to make your dream become reality." "Mr. Mathews, sir, are you serious?" "Deadly, George, deadly, and I think we can drop the formalities. Let's stick with Jake. Deal?" He stretched out his hand, elation and a giddy joy coursing through his veins. George beamed and shook hands with him. Two hours later, Jake thanked the Grosvenor's concierge for his assistance. "Are you absolutely positive this is Mrs. Trent's entrance to the suite? Her father is in the other room, and there'll be hell to pay if I sneak into his room by mistake." "I would bet my life on it, sir. The maid did a turndown service at ten this evening. Mr. Inglefield refused it, but Mrs. Trent allowed the maid in and chose from a selection of chocolates." Jake palmed a bill to the concierge as he shook the man's hand. "Thank you." He inserted the key card into the slot, slipped the door open, and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The scent of roses, lavender, and spice perfumed the room. Jake let out one of those long, satisfying exhales. Tee lay on the bed, curled up on her side with the blankets kicked down to her knees and both hands slipped under one cheek. Her sweetness pierced his soul. A lump rose in his 323


throat, and Jake sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his woman. Never again would he be parted from her. His pulse pounded. He cradled his throbbing head in his hands. The sour taste of fear rolled across his tongue. He had never needed anyone before, but the fact he did now couldn't be escaped. Resignation worked its way into his thoughts. Reality had changed, and he had to deal with it. He undressed in record time, letting his clothing fall to the carpeted floor, slid onto the bed, and scooted over to center of the mattress. Jake snaked an arm around Tee's waist and drew her T-shirt-clad form against his chest. Drawn to the curve of her neck, he nuzzled the sugary skin there and breathed in, relishing that Tee scent, heaven, and home. He closed his eyes and savored a moment of absolute contentment. His arousal had other ideas. It jerked against the small of Tee's back. She stirred. "Mmm. Jake?" "I'm right here, witchy woman. Damn, I missed you." Her eyes flew open. "Jake. Jake. It's you. You're here. Oh, thank God." She spun in his arms and tangled her hands in his hair. Tee dropped butterfly kisses on his chest, to the pulse at his neck, up his throat, all along his jawline and finally covered his lips with hers. She poured her heart into the kiss. Jake tasted alcoholtinged chocolate mixed with the celebratory cigar he'd smoked on the way over. She devoured him, eating his mouth, tempting his tongue into a dazzling salsa. Jake fed on her essence, absorbing it into his soul. 324


Tee broke the kiss. She stared at Jake. "It is you. You're here. I thought I'd never see you again. Oh Jake, my Jake." Her hands framed his face, stroking his skin. Tee ran her thumb across his lower lip. "How did you get back? When? How did you know I was here?" Tee kissed him after each question. "Oh God. I'm scared I'm dreaming. Pinch me." He chuckled. "Relax, witchy woman. I'm here, in the future, with you." He slid his hands under her T-shirt, squeezed a bottom cheek in each hand, and sighed against her forehead. "The most perfect ass in the world, and it's mine." He kneaded the firm mounds. "I have a lot to tell you." Jake brushed his lips across her eyelids. Tee pushed at his chest. "I saw you marry that girl. How could you?" She pummeled his shoulders, the blows so light they could almost be a caress. "I didn't marry anyone. Listen to me, Tee. You saw my twin brother, Stephen, handfast with her." Jake studied her face. Tee's eyelids flew up, and her bow-shaped mouth dropped open. "It's true. It's a long, unbelievable story. I have a mother, a father, and a sister. I haven't met my sister yet. Her name's Helen, and apparently she's a handful." Jake tucked a curl behind Tee's ear. "I'm surrounded by strong women who know their own minds." Shifting onto his side, head propped in his palm, he examined her expression, knowing he walked a fine line over 325


the next few minutes. With so much at stake, he had to read her reaction right. Had to, his future depended on it. "Are you too tired, or do you want to hear everything now?" "Do you think I could sleep after the bombshell you just dropped?" Tee sat up and straightened the tangled sheets, fluffed the pillows, and switched on the lamp. Jake reached over, adjusted the lighting to the lowest setting, and patted the bed. "Come, curl up here with me, and I'll tell you the whole tale." "I can't find my panties," Tee muttered, hunting under the comforter. "That T-shirt's more than long enough." He thumped the bed. "Come on. We'll pull up the sheets so you won't be embarrassed. I think we'll have to wean you into full nudity in the bedroom." Tee found her underwear, bunched it up, and threw it at him. Since it proved to be an itty-bitty lace triangle, he grinned and suggested, "Maybe you should put it on after all. I have this notion of taking it off with my teeth." "Oh my." "I love the way you blush all over." He crooked a finger. "Come, witchy woman mine." Snuggled into the nook of Jake's arm, she rested the side of her face against his chest. "All right, tell me." Jake recounted the events since she left Brodick Castle. "You can't dislike Douglas anymore. He gave you back your family. What did it feel like, meeting your parents? Your brother?" Tee circled a finger around his nipple. 326


"I'm still not sure. It's like a disconnect, as if it's happening to someone else." He tipped up her chin and kissed her, tracing the seam of her mouth with his tongue. Color stained her throat, her cheekbones. "Why is Henry here?" Jake asked. "He came to rescue me and pressure the authorities into dropping the charges." A secret little smile curled one corner of her mouth. "We talked about me, my powers. He's always known about them, and it doesn't seem to bother him. Douglas advised him not to talk to me about them. No, don't frown like that. He must have had a reason. Look at the trunk, the way it all worked out." "That's still a question mark as far as I'm concerned. What did your mother have to say about everything?" Those rosy lips flattened into a thin line. "Tell me, babe." So she did. "It's her loss, not yours. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Tricia Inglefield wouldn't allow Tee to move in with him. She'd use her cold scorn to intimidate and subdue her only child. He'd bet his company on it. "Let's talk about why you're not sure you want to move in with me." She covered her face with her hands, but not before a shadowed grimness owned her features. "I'm not sure. But, I know one thing—I'm not moving into a house you own and decorating it with your money. Tony had all the power in our relationship. That's not going to happen again." 327


"Okay, I can deal with that. Why don't we look for a place together and share everything fifty-fifty? We can rent. We don't have to buy." "And what do I do while you're working? I know how important the business is to you, and I know it takes up a great deal of time. I don't know anyone in Florida, and although I don't have a formal career..." She chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds. "I work with physically handicapped kids at a horse farm in Trinidad. I know it isn't the same. You have a hectic schedule, and you work with high-powered executives, famous people." He remembered Tee's remark on the way down the islands and the way she grimaced, as if embarrassed. "I don't have your hectic schedule," she'd said. "I'm not like Tricia. I don't do lunch at our country club. I'd grow horns if I became a member of a crochet club. Can you see me at a mall every day? After a few months, I'd come to resent the most important part of your life, your company. And then where would we be?" "Is that a flat out no?" Tight and stretched to shattering point, Jake couldn't look her in the eyes. Why'd she keep harping on his business? Why not say it aloud? She didn't want him, not the way he wanted her. "I don't want you to end up hating me, and it seems inevitable." "Spit it out, Tee. Say the words." "And there's my dad's appointment. Trinidad's not like the US. Can you see your president's daughter living with someone while he's in office?" 328


"Throw your mother in there too, why don't you? She thinks I'm the equivalent of trailer trash." He rolled onto his back and stuck his hands under his head. Naked, erect, and angrier than a wounded lion on its last breath. She rose onto her forearms and scowled at him, amber eyes on fire. "Don't even go there, Jake Mathews. I would love to rub Tricia's nose in the fact I'm dating you. And I can't wait to tell her about your title. God, that'll be so satisfying. You think I want to end up like her? Crocheting doilies and gossiping being the highlight of my day? I want to do something with my life. And maybe volunteer work doesn't add up in your world, but it makes a difference. I see how the kids improve." "Ah hell, Tee." Deflated, he tugged on his earlobe. "Why can't we make this work? Okay, I'm a selfish idiot. I never thought about those details. I thought about waking up and holding you in my arms. Coming home and finding you there. And for the record, I think what you do with the children is nothing short of amazing. I saw the cards from the kids on your dresser at Greenbriar. You do make a difference." Mutiny still ruled her mouth, and she didn't appear convinced of his veracity. Then her lower lip trembled, and a lone tear escaped. "Damn, damn, damn. I'm so bloody confused, and I hate being teary." "Oh, babe. Don't cry." Enfolding her in his arms, he kissed her temple and whispered, "Stay with me. Let's find a way to make this work. Can you really break it off right now?"

329


Her head shook against his chest, and she muttered, "No. I don't even want to. I'm just trying to take charge of my life and think things through." "Which you've done like a pro and put me to shame. Have I overstayed my welcome? Do you want me to leave?" "Not at all." "Do you really want to rub Tricia's nose in it by flaunting our relationship?" The thought appealed, but it occurred to him revenge wouldn't win her blasted mother over. "You bet." Her head rose, and in a mercurial mood change, her lips lifted and curved with glee. "And I'm going to introduce you as Lord Ferguson at every cocktail party. I can't wait to tell her." "Sorry, I already did." "You didn't." She slapped his bicep. "When? She didn't mention a word. What did she say?" "Something to the effect of impossible. I sucker punched her, and she never saw it coming. Blast, I'll pay for that eventually, won't I?" "Tricia's not the type to forget and forgive, more like remember and continually punish." "Are you going to tell her about your powers?" "I can't. I don't want to hurt Dad. But, I'm not hiding them anymore, not from close friends. Alex took it well, didn't he?" "Better than I did after you disappeared and everything exploded with my family." "Are you two identical?" She rested her chin on cupped hands, which warmed his chest. 330


"My brother and I? To be honest, I tried not to look at him. It was eerie. Even our scars are the same." "Like this one?" she said, rubbing a thumb over his right eyebrow. He smiled and stroked her spine. "Could I tell you two apart?" "Yeah, he has a bit of a Scottish burr." "Hmm, what about here? Are you the same here?" Tracing a line of tiny nips down the middle of his chest, she licked around his navel. "And here?" She sucked the skin above his weeping erection, her saucy big browns peeping at him. "If you ever find out, he's a dead man. You do know what you're starting?" Needing the words, he waited. "I think it started when you crawled into bed naked," she said, planting a dry kiss on the head of his prick. "I read the first chapter of that book, "Taste, the Long and Hard of It." "No regrets tomorrow morning?" Golden ringlets cascaded down to her shoulders, curtaining almost her whole face, but she shook her head and flashed him an audacious grin. "Nope, nary a one." "Thank God." Jake hauled her against his chest. They spent the rest of the night talking, planning, laughing, and making love. Sunlight leaking through the gaps in the drapes found them dizzied with newfound lovers' elation, and neither had slept a wink during the long, pleasure-filled night. At dawn, Tee dozed off. Jake succumbed to sleep a few minutes later. Lifting one lid, a tad bleary-eyed, he read the ruby LCD on the digital clock, 8:15, and wondered what had woken him. 331


A knock sounded on the connecting door. "Honey, are you awake?" Henry Inglefield's cultured voice resonated through the wooden structure. Jake groaned, and he shook Tee's shoulders. "Wake up, babe," he whispered. "Five more minutes," she grumbled. "Your father's at the door." He surrendered to temptation and kissed her thoroughly. She smiled up at him and stroked his cheek. "Morning, darling." Darling, he liked that. "Your dad's at the door." "Henry? Dad?" He nodded. "Oh no." She scrambled out of the bed, struggled into a hotel bathrobe, finger-combed her curls, and rushed to the door. "Just a minute, Dad," Tee said and opened the door a fraction. "Sorry, I'm a bit drowsy. I didn't sleep well last night." "Go right back to bed then, honey. I'll set a wakeup call for eleven o'clock. We'll pick you up at noon for the Interpol meeting." Jake heard lips smacking. "Sweet dreams, Daughter." "Thanks, Dad, have a good morning." She closed the door and slumped against it, hands behind her back. "Whew!" "We have to tell him, you know," Jake said and waited for her reaction. "He sort of knows. Do you mind?" 332


"Let me guess, the fact I visited Trinidad once a week for the last twelve weeks? Your dad's suspected all along, I'm sure." "Partly that, and Scotland Yard told him I spent the night in your suite at Claridge's. Henry asked me if we were dating." Jake smirked; he crooked a finger. "Come here, witchy woman." "Do you want to have your way with me?" She batted her eyelashes. "Always." Jake paused. "But, no, this is serious. I want to be present during the Interpol lunch. I'm going to call your father and explain we're dating. Then, I'm going to ask him if I can accompany the two of you. Is that okay with you?" Her pink tongue touched the corner of one swollen lip, and a satisfied curve captured it. "Tee?" "Oh yes, of course. Go ahead." Jake's cell phone jingled. She stooped and searched through the pile of clothes on the floor. "Got it." She brandished the phone triumphantly and threw it to his outstretched palm. "Mathews speaking," he barked into the speaker. Tee hurried to the bathroom. After finishing his conversation, Jake rapped on the door. "Babe, I have to go. Alex dug up some information on another of Tony's accounts. We're meeting with the bank managers in thirty minutes. I have to dash right now." 333


When she rushed out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he'd already dressed. Taking a second to appreciate their newfound intimacy and the picture she presented, all fresh and glowing, hair damp and curling, he said, "You look delicious, and I have to go. Life's a bitch." [Back to Table of Contents]

334


Coffee, Tea & OJ As soon as he and Alex finished with the bankers, Jake headed off to see Henry Inglefield. Exhausted, he shut his eyes and leaned against the cold passenger window of the English black cab. A familiar heavy darkness captured him, and a kaleidoscope of images, stream-of-conscious style, invaded his brain. They all starred Graziella Leandro and the caretaker. Tee, a plate of kippers, his nostrils twitched in protest. It morphed into a dozing Tee lying prone on the sofa and the back of a man's head, not the caretaker. His violent intentions filled a shadowed room. Jake struggled to shake off the torpor, but remained in the firm grip of his vision, and it fast-forwarded into a blur. He came out of the trance knowing something had happened, but unable to discern what. Adrenalin coursed a torrential downpour, overheating the veins at his temple. He pressed his thumb to the spot, every instinct urging him to return to Grosvenor. The black cab shuddered to a halt; they'd arrived at the Trinidadian Embassy. Still absorbed in the scenes playing in his mind, he paid the driver and exited. His cell phone jingled, and as he stood in the middle of a security check, it rang aimlessly in the square plastic tray slugging along a conveyer belt. "Welcome, m'boy, welcome." 335


Henry Inglefield greeted him as he stepped out of the walk-through scanner. Jake shook his outstretched hand. "It's great to see you again." Henry waved at the security equipment. "I apologize. It's strict protocol. Even I have to go through it every day. A consequence of the times we live in, I'm afraid." "I understand, Jake said as he collected his Blackberry from the plastic container. "This way." Henry urged him to the right, down a narrow corridor. Five minutes later, they were ensconced in overstuffed chintz chairs. "Nice office." He surveyed the gas fireplace in front of him and the burnished cherry wood entertainment unit lining the opposite wall. "Thank you. I share it with the prime minister." Henry motioned to the silver coffee pot resting on a footed tray. "A cup of coffee?" "I could use one." He poured the brown liquid into one of the two pottery mugs emblazoned with graceful Scarlet Ibises, Trinidad's national bird, sitting on a similarly decorated ceramic tray and sniffed. "I love the smell of coffee, but it never quite tastes the way you expect." Henry grinned. "I know what you mean. I think that's why my wife and daughter prefer tea. What's the important matter you want to discuss? You've certainly piqued my curiosity." "I'll get right to the point." He set his cup on the table. "Your daughter and I are dating." 336


A slow smile spread across the other man's face. "Does Tee know you're telling me this?" "Yes. She's a little leery of your reaction, and even more so of her mother's. Her marriage to Tony has made her wary of relationships." "I know. I've given their relationship a great deal of thought and Tricia and I have discussed it over the last few months. At first, Tony was good with Tee. She was a painfully shy teenager who preferred her horse's company to people. Tony was a magnificent horseman, the best rider I've ever seen. She blossomed during the training for the Olympics, becoming more and more confident in her abilities." "Her friend, Dee, thinks Tony sabotaged her tryouts. Your thoughts?" Henry stroked his goatee, and shook his head. "I think Tony was almost as disappointed as Tee. Tricia felt he was good for her, older, more mature, but I had my doubts." "Doubts?" "Tony didn't have an aristocratic pedigree, but his polo expertise put him into exalted circles. He had limited funds and he played on Prince Charles' team with people who never thought about money and were accustomed to the very best." He leaned forward in the chair. Jake never expected to feel any empathy for Tony Trent, but a twinge hit the edges of his mind. Grudgingly, he said, "And they never accepted him. He was always on the outside looking in." "Something like that. I had hoped when you took him on as a partner and he started to make money, his bitterness would recede, but the opposite occurred." 337


Jake's phone jingled, and he looked at the number. "Sorry, Henry, I should take this." "Mathews speaking." The voice on the other end sounded familiar. "Brown, here, Mr., er, Jake." "George, is something wrong?" He listened with mounting horror to Brown's dialogue. "We'll be there as soon as we can." "What's wrong?" "I'll brief you in the car. We need to get to Grosvenor as soon as possible. Tee's missing." As soon as they were en route to the hotel, Henry demanded, "Explain missing." "The concierge at Grosvenor tried to deliver a message from an Arthur Flood of the Met to her. No one seemed to be in the suite." He looked out the cab's window. Heavy, smoky clouds appeared on the verge of weeping a steady stream of rain. "Arthur's a school chum of mine. He was the one responsible for clearing Tallulah of all charges. Speaking of which, I left her in the suite this morning. She was going back to sleep," Henry added. "She's a sound sleeper." "I had two dozen roses delivered to her. I bribed the concierge into setting them up in the suite's common room. When he entered the suite, there was no one there. However, he did find a room service cart." "Tee enjoys a hearty breakfast," Henry commented. "She is particularly fond of kippers when she's in England." 338


He blanched and remembered his vision and Tee's fondness for fish for breakfast. He shuddered, and a black fog of dread hovered dancing at the edge of his eyesight, but he continued his explanation. "The concierge noticed the cart didn't have the standard Grosvenor-monogrammed pewter vase with a single longstemmed red rose. He checked with room service. They hadn't delivered anything to your suite." "I agree that's suspicious, but why did he jump to the conclusion Tee's missing?" "The man checked her room. He spotted her purse and her cell phone on the dresser." "Now that is definitely odd. She always carries her purse and her mobile phone, even in Trinidad, far less here in the UK." Jake checked his watch, almost eleven. "The concierge questioned the hotel staff. A bellman remembered seeing a man knocking on the door of your suite when he dropped off luggage to a nearby room. On his way back to the elevator, he saw the same man entering your suite." "Tee does have friends in the UK, but I'm certain she wasn't expecting any visitors today, and her friends are almost all female." "The concierge sent the same bellman to deliver Flood's message less than five minutes later. No one answered the doorbell or his knocking." "I'll call Arthur." Henry whipped out his cell phone. "I don't like the sounds of this." 339


He spent ten minutes on the phone. Buildings whizzed by, and the patter of rain on the cab's rooftop became a continual drone. Henry's expression grew grimmer with each passing minute, as did Jake's trepidation. Finally, the elderly man snapped his phone shut. "Arthur's concerned, particularly since the announcement of my new position hit the papers today and because of the error in detaining Tee at Heathrow when she arrived. If the media gets wind of this, they'll jump on it." "Is he assigning someone to the case?" "Better than that, he's dispatched a team to the hotel. This case will be their highest priority. He's promised to put the full weight of his position behind us. Arthur and the finance expert at Interpol planned to debrief her over lunch today." "Actually, that was one of the reasons I came to your office. I wanted to tag along. I think Tony's activities drew the attention of his criminal colleagues to Tee. Did she tell you what my Private Investigator uncovered about his background?" "We didn't have much time together yesterday. Two inspectors who work jointly for Interpol and the Met were ordered to pick her up from her nanna's cottage and bring her to headquarters. Arthur and I met her there, and I dropped her off to the Grosvenor and went back to work. I saw her briefly last evening as I had to meet with two EC officials for dinner." "Let me bring you up to date." He spent the next few minutes outlining his suspicions and detailed the amounts run through the offshore account. However, he had no idea how 340


to broach his vision and Graziella and the caretaker's involvement. "Give me a few minutes to inform Arthur about this." While the cab inched forwards, Henry spoke with his school friend. By the time he ended the telephone conversation, tight lines appeared at both corners of his mouth. "It pays to have friends in high places," Jake said and then added, "Tee told me you know of her special abilities." "Did you speak with her today?" Although only minutes past eleven, the darkened skies mimicked impending night. Jake tore his eyes away from the window and met Henry's gaze straight on. "I spent last night in her room. She told me then." "I may be old, Jake, but I'm not blind, deaf, or dumb." Henry flashed him a watery grin. "Premarital sex is a fact of life. It's not as if Tee is a naïve young woman. She's a widow, after all." He bit his lip, Tee's innocence her story to tell, not his. "Back to her special powers, did you know that one of them is the ability to time-travel?" Her father's eyebrows climbed to his hairline. For a few seconds, Henry appeared speechless. Then he muttered, "Marvelous, time travel. Well, well." "If she's excited or scared, she can vanish to a place she feels safe," Jake explained. "I saw the videotape of her disappearance at the airport." His wonder-filled voice echoed in the taxi. "It happened, then. It really happened. Well, well. How does she do it?" 341


Jake threw his hands up in the air. "Beats me, but I've been along for the ride. In the last few days, I've seen Roman gladiators, Vikings, and sixteenth century Scotsmen in kilts. Although, to be fair, the Scotsmen were my fault." "My, my," Henry said. "How fascinating." "The reason I'm telling you this is because she may have become scared or anxious and decided to go to someplace safe." "Possibly, but that doesn't explain a room service cart that nobody ordered, which the hotel's staff did not deliver," Henry pointed out. "If it weren't for that fact, I'd never have pressured Arthur into acting." "Hell, I forgot about that." He rubbed his eyes. "I can't think of any other explanation for her vanishing other than the time travel." The ubiquitous London roadwork held them up, and it took twice as long to get to Grosvenor as it would normally. They reached the hotel at one o'clock, and the concierge escorted them to Henry's suite. Four men and two women wearing transparent latex gloves worked in silence throughout the three rooms. A white-haired gentleman around Henry's age greeted them as they entered the lounging area. "Arthur, this is Jake Mathews. He and my daughter are dating. This is Sir Arthur Flood of the Met." Jake kept his expression neutral, but his heart hurdled a six-foot fence at Henry's introductory words. He focused on the Met Commissioner. The man appeared the epitome of the 342


dignified spy. Give him a tweed hat, a cape, and a pipe, and there stood Sherlock Holmes. "Right. This is where we are. Room service, most emphatically, did not deliver this breakfast. We've completed preliminary analysis of the food. The orange juice and the coffee contained double doses of a potent sleeping pill. According to our experts, if your daughter consumed all the orange juice and the coffee, she would be unconscious for several hours." Arthur showed them the empty crystal pitcher. A smidgen of orange pulp lined the circular bottom rim of the container. "She drank it all, then?" Jake asked. "Yes, but not the coffee." "Does that make a difference?" Henry inquired. "It may. We believe whosoever did this counted on her drinking both. The orange juice alone would only make her sleep for approximately two hours." "Thank goodness my daughter prefers tea." A chill shroud enveloped Jake. "This was planned." "We believe so." Arthur Flood agreed. "By whom?" "We're not certain. At this moment, the money in the offshore account is our focus. Did Tallulah have access to that account?" "No, only two people signed on that account, Tony and I." Jake remembered Tee's comment about the airport detention. "Why was Tee detained at the airport? And who ordered it?" "She's named as a director in the Trinidadian operation and in the holding company for the offshore account." 343


"Can't be. I flew to Antigua when we set up the holding company. Tony and I were the only ones with shares." "Are you aware there were two accounts?" Flood's words sent barbs of terror into Jake's soul. He closed his eyes and cursed himself for being a fool. "I found out a few days ago. Let me guess, two accounts, two companies. Blast it. Those accounts were set up before they were married. Tony set all this up deliberately." "We question all directors in embezzlement or laundering cases. Collusion is a natural assumption until disproved. Add to that the fact she was married to Trent, and suspicions were aroused. Tallulah's circumstances, being Henry's daughter, allowed me to circumvent normal procedures. Actually, the order to detain her up didn't come from my office, and at this point, we haven't been able to find the source." "I understand you want to question me also. Let me know what would be convenient." "I've only one question, young man. Why did you two disappear? Surely, you realized the implications of such an action." Hell, now what to do? Mention Tricia, the bitch, convinced Tee she'd be arrested? Did Henry even know about his wife's phone call? "In hindsight, I recognize it probably wasn't the smartest choice. Tee wanted time to think, to prepare for the ordeal." Sir Flood's bushy snow brow arched. Best defense, as the football phrase goes, he went on the offensive. "Where are we at?" 344


"Investigating Trent's colleagues. Money laundering is a dangerous occupation." "You may want to start with the caretaker for Henry's island home. He's on the payroll for Tony's company in Trinidad. But, he's the only employee who doesn't clock in. Name of Charles." "Our caretaker? M'boy, first his name's not Charles, it's Singh, and second, he's seventy if he's a day." "Sorry, Henry. I saw him when Tee and I were at Eight Bells. He's in his late twenties, early thirties at most. Certainly no older than I am, and he's listed on the payroll as Charles." "I know nothing of this." Henry shook his head. "Tricia handles all the help. I'm positive she doesn't know about this. But, we haven't visited the island home in a couple of years. Tee and I used to go regularly, but between her training and the tryouts, neither of us had the time. Excuse me while I call my wife." After Henry left the room, Jake suggested, "There is another individual worth targeting, Graziella Leandro. She and Tony were having an affair while Tee was his fiancée." The man's face blanched, and the freckles around his nose darkened. "I hope Henry doesn't know of this. It would wound him deeply." "He knows. We spoke of it." "You were Trent's partner for a little over five months. Any theories?" "My hunch is Tony stole the money he was supposed to launder, was preparing to exit, but got caught red-handed 345


before he could disappear. With him dead, there're only two people who could know what he did with the cash, Tee or me. And she's the easier target. Whoever did this wants what they think she knows." "It's a theory, but a little far-fetched." "Not from what we learned this morning. My lawyer traced part of the money to a Swiss account, and we met with the bank's management team this morning." Jake sighed and tunneled both hands through his hair. "It's a passcode electronic account, requires two passcodes and one optical print." "Optical. Not good. Hard to obtain records. If you're correct, this doesn't bode well for Henry's daughter. The Swiss authorities will block any attempt to force revealing the identities of the account holders." And you don't know the half of it, particularly Graziella Leandro's venom and wrath, Jake thought. Whoever had Tee, the sums involved were staggering. He'd seen greed rape the humanity right out of a person, even the wealthiest businessman. "I'll have research start on those two individuals, but I'll also expand the search to families, close friends. Meanwhile, we're holding a press conference and establishing a toll-free line to see if we can drum up any leads." "Interpol's investigation led to an Afghan source for the money. Every report I've ever read indicates drug kings from that area are lethal," Jake stated. "And ruthless. I'm afraid if we can't turn up a lead within the next few hours, our chances of finding her are slim." 346


Sir Flood's grim expression sent another knife into Jake's heart. He had to pose the question. "They'll kill her either way, won't they?" "Most probably." The terse answer shaved years off his life. "What can I do?" Jake forced himself to focus on analysis. "We're questioning the hotel guests to see if anyone noticed anything. She was drugged and therefore couldn't walk out on her own accord. We're checking for the obvious, an ambulance, stretchers, wheelchairs. If they need information from her, our analysts believe they'll take her somewhere isolated where they can question her." "I presume the methods of inquiry include torture?" Sir Flood nodded. Jake's blood congealed, and he shut the images the words conjured out of his mind. He could not panic. It became vital to focus on finding Tee and believing she still lived. At that moment Henry returned, fingering his silver-dusted goatee, a gesture he succumbed to on rare occasions. Military-trained, his disciplined self-control didn't allow the broadcasting of anxiety. "My wife was unaware of a new caretaker at Eight Bells. She checked our bank statements, and as of this month, Singh's salary was deposited into his account. She called his daughter and spoke with her. Apparently, Tony gave Singh a three-month leave of absence, and he's travelling the Caribbean. The daughter's received a couple of postcards, but nothing recently." 347


"I don't believe it for a second. Tony, generous to his employees? No way. He had the old colonial master style of management. We always bickered about employee benefits. Ten to one, the only transactions on Singh's accounts are the monthly deposits. He got rid of the man." "Murder? That's a big jump." "Is it?"Had Tee told him about Tony's attempts on her life? "If, as Jake says, over four hundred million passed through that Antigua account, even if Trent only stole a tenth of it, which is the traditional skimming amount, forty million is enough to kill for," Flood said. "Certainly enough to warrant setting an example, Arthur, this doesn't bode well for my daughter's safe return." Henry's brow creased. "Tricia's hysterical. I've never seen her lose control, not in public, and she was in the middle of her crochet club meeting when I spoke with her. I have to get back to her. Excuse me." Brought up short by the thought of Tee's mother uncomposed, Jake stared at Henry's retreating back. Her father obviously loved her, but her mother? Maybe the woman had some redeeming qualities after all. Shrugging off the issue as one of minor importance, Jake decided on aggressive action. It would keep him focused. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked of Sir Arthur. "Appreciate the offer. Henry and I agreed to use this suite as a base. It'll be manned 24/7, and of course, the phones are monitored. We'd like to monitor yours as well." Jake gave him the number, and Flood returned the favor. 348


"I'm heading back to Claridge's. My phone will be on, and I'll call Henry hourly for updates." Less than a mile separated the two London landmarks, and he opted to walk, figuring fresh air might serve to clear his washing-machine-churning brain. The minute the cool air hit his face, the original vision, the one he'd had the moment he met Tallulah Inglefield, burned his pupils, the two of them on a bed playing with a dark-haired, pink-cheeked baby who gurgled and cooed and grabbed chubby feet with tiny hands. Impossible. The other image took over, and his pace picked up, an automatic reaction to an increased heart rate. Certain Graziella and the caretaker had Tee, but that she must be unconscious, otherwise she'd escape, he sifted his memory, recalling the three occasions he'd seen Graziella and Tony together. Lost in thought, he stared at the door to the Davies suite without knowing how he'd arrived there. Strolling into the spacious living area, he found Alex sprawled on one of the chairs, a cell phone clamped to one ear, while his fingers clicked over a laptop keyboard on his left. A loud complaint rumbled from his stomach, but a curious disconnect made him realize food had no appeal. Not when thoughts of Tee injured held his brain hostage. "What's up?" "Not much progress," he replied and sank into the chair opposite and summarized his conversations with Flood and Henry. Checking his watch, he added, "Flip on the TV. The Met's briefing should be on the BBC." 349


To his surprise, Flood didn't handle the conference. The Interpol finance guy did. "Who's the turkey?" "Head of financial fraud for some Europol/Interpol combined task force. Catch his name?" "Uh-uh." In silence, they listened as Tee's image and last whereabouts flashed on the screen, followed by a hotline number. The whole event lasted all of a ninety-second sound bite. "That's not going to do much." "According to Flood, it'll be on the major evening news and in the newspapers." "I've been a busy bee and dug up an interesting tidbit. The caretaker and Graziella are related, stepsiblings." [Back to Table of Contents]

350


Stick a Pin "The caretaker is Graziella's younger stepbrother, and his real name is Eduardo Frantz." Jake's jaw dropped. Of all the possible bonds he'd considered, a family relationship had never entered his mind. "German?" "Uruguayan, but of Germanic descent." One pinball hit the jackpot. "Wild guess, they were all childhood friends." "Ain't it just so? This parallels the trunk episode, too many coincidences." Alex drew his fingers through already mussed hair. "I've been making notes all afternoon. We're missing the connection, but it's there. Here's what I've got. Tony picked you as a partner for a reason, what?" "Yeah, why was I the perfect patsy? Next." "The whole operation was carefully planned. Was Tony the planner? Did he have the balls and the wherewithal?" He considered the notion. "Balls yes, gray matter, no." "If not him, Graziella or the caretaker?" A sneer commanded Jake's lips. "No way. While she has the street smarts of a high school dropout, her organizational skills are nil. Couldn't decide between playing the slots or twenty-one. Texas Hold'em strategy is beyond her capabilities." "The stepbrother?" "Blast. The second I laid eyes on him, every warning bell went off. I should've listened to my gut." 351


"Hindsight. Yes or no?" "He had the build of a South Beach bouncer, but people say I do, too. No conclusions there. Next." "Three banks so far, the Antiguan, the Afghan, and now the Swiss. Any links?" "The first two seem obvious, drug running, laundering, or both. Swiss is easy. By the time we get the information from them, the money will be gone." "Here's one other to throw into the mix. Uruguay. Germans. Fleeing Nazis. Swiss banks." Knuckling a sudden throbbing at his temple, he said, "Stretching it, buddy. Why even go there?" "Looking at it from all the angles. I'll give you that one. Here're the two things that don't fit, the marked money, the SEC investigation." "They fit. Designed to keep the focus on me and away from Tony. I don't get your reasoning on that one." "He was already dead when both happened. The marked money didn't turn up until months after." "Okay, it's something to consider. Jesus, Alex, I know this is necessary, but I can barely think. If the Afghan connection is behind everything..." He couldn't finish the sentence. "Hell, I don't even want to consider their methods. I keep thinking about when those men knocked her senseless in the stables. They tied her up and put her in that dungeon, and she was helpless." "Until you told me about that this morning, I never believed Tee could be held captive. By the way, don't ever tell me about any visions you have of me. I'm the converted." 352


"Yeah, fat lot of good it does knowing a glimpse of what might happen in the future. I can't help but wonder—will the drugs affect her like the blow to her skull?" "Your guess is as good as mine. What about the other eight of the witchy women? Wouldn't they have an idea?" A smidgen of tautness seeped out of his shoulders. "Blasted Douglas Graham should know, but I haven't a clue how to contact him. Wait a minute, her friend, Dee, she'd know. Damn, why didn't I think of that before? Hell, that's a great idea. I have her home phone. I'll give her a call." Disappointed when Dee's voice mail kicked in, he left a message stressing the urgency of the situation. "You're beat, Jake. Take a time out. How about room service? I'll order. And it might help to get out of that suit." "Yeah. Good suggestion. I think I'll shower. I need to jump-start my brain. And food will keep us going. I'll have whatever you are." Standing under the hot stream from the showerhead, a wash of despair followed the water's fall. They'd never taken that shower together in Barbados. What if these few days were all he had? What if he never saw her again? Twice now, he'd refused to contemplate the notion, too afraid of the consequences, what he'd have to admit. In the short space of five months, his feelings had escalated to the point where he didn't intend to let her leave, not ever. All her arguments about moving in with him became null and void if the reverse happened. Instead of closing down the Trinidad operation, why not make it his headquarters? Straightening from his slump against the tiles, he grinned. 353


Then scowled. Her parents. She'd never live with him in Trinidad. And he ditched the idea of dating and furtive, snatched intimacy at once. Marriage. Tamping away his automatic rejection of the concept, he considered the benefits. She'd be his, legally and in the eyes of the incestuous Trinidadian cocktail circuit. All the men who panted after her at those events would be forced to acknowledge Tee as his territory. As he shrugged on faded denims and a sweatshirt, a whole litany of pluses pasted a wide smile on his face. When he loped into the TV area, Alex took one look at him and blinked. "What made you so happy? Another vision? You know where she is?" "Nothing," he said. "A shower always invigorates me. And no, I didn't have another vision. Any news?" "You missed all the action with that ten-minute shower." His walnut eyebrow quirked. "Or perhaps you were having your own action?" "Cut it. As if I'd contemplate that with Tee missing. What happened?" "Dee rang your cell, and I answered. Interesting woman. Quick on the uptake and logical to the core. What's she look like anyway?" "Alex," Jake growled. An exaggerated theatrical sigh, one Alex Mayfield favored in the courtroom. "Your sense of humor needs reviving. 354


Here's the scoop. When Tee loses control, her subconscious takes over, and she retreats to somewhere or someone comforting. Dee thinks a drugged state would produce the same response. She suggested a few places. Their boarding school here in the UK, I have the name and address. There's a cottage on the property, which acted as some sort of secret girl clubhouse. Las Cuevas beach, which is located in Trinidad, Harbor Lodge in Barbados, and Eight Bells." "Tee mentioned the boarding school a few times. That's a maybe. Eight Bells she now associates with Tony, so that's out. The other two are a consideration." "Stick a pin. And don't give me that look. I like the way your woman speaks Brit-American. No, seriously. Henry phoned as well. The hotline received one tip, which appears worth validating. It puts her at a private airport here in the city in a wheelchair. And one of the hotel guests claims to have seen two people wheeling a woman through the lobby." Body functions halted, a tic under Jake's right eye jumped, and his hands balled. "Two people?" "The best lead. A man and a woman. No description yet. The hotel guest is on a bus tour to some castle and hasn't returned. He read all about it on his iPhone." "When is this guest due back?" "Twenty minutes." "I'm out of here. Did you order room service?" "Uh-uh, I knew it would go to waste. I'm ready. Let's roll." "It's less than a ten minute walk, not worth a cab trip." "That brings up another anomaly. I found this in the bedroom when I went to get my jacket." Alex held up a navy 355


Land's End down coat. "Tee conjured it for me on the way to Brodick Castle. When the chest brought us here, we were in our original clothing. Nothing from the past came with us, at least not with me." Knuckling his right temple, Jake asked, "What the hell does it mean? Blast it, every time we resolve one issue, another one rears. Stick a pin, Alex. I'm too tired to analyze this one." "Hey, I can tell you're feeling better. Your sense of humor's returned from its leave of absence. Stick a pin, it is." Alex clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "So, I'm ordering the biggest, thickest T-bone Henry's hotel has on its menu and a loaded baked potato. Hmm, do you think the trifle thing's a regular menu item in this country?" A food-focused conversation helped center Jake's muddled brain, and the combination of fresh air, a brisk walk, and Alex's unspoken support promoted a sense of serenity. On more than one occasion during the brief interlude, temptation surfaced, and he surrendered to it in the Grosvenor elevator. "You plan to marry?" he asked as the doors dinged shut. Dead silence until the first floor button lit. "Of course, always have," Alex said, a pink hue staining his flesh. He lifted one shoulder. "I want a family, at least two kids. Been thinking more about it lately." "What about parents as role models? We've never had any experience. You can't count the priests. Parents don't take a vow of chastity." "I don't know about that. Between you and me, we were parents to the rest of the gang. The other three would never have made it without us looking after them." 356


Surprise had him meeting Alex's somber gaze. After a moment of careful consideration, he said, "I never thought of it that way." Hands digging deep into pockets, Alex rocked on his heels. "The best day of my week is Saturday when I coach under-six soccer. Working with those kids washes away the sins of the world for me. When you dole out millions to trust fund heirs who don't deserve a cent, a six-year-old's point of view clarifies life's priorities. Don't get me wrong, I like our lifestyle, the goodies money can buy. But, when it comes down to it, your friendship, your respect matters more to me than any luxury car, any waterfront mansion. At the end of a long day dealing with Palm Beach types, I want to go home to a woman who adores me, and who I adore, and a passel of kids running about." More stunned by the yearning in Alex's eyes than the impact of his words and overwhelmed by the depth of his trust, Jake couldn't get a single syllable out. "Every job has a purpose, but the most important one in the world is parenting. I believe a parent's role is an amalgamation of mentor and guardian. From the time you and I met, we've been both." Jake continued to stare at him, and Alex averted his eyes and blinked a few times. He cleared his throat and continued, "Of course, if my chosen mate comes with a Mayflower lineage and a fortune, I'm not going to sneeze at the opportunity." Jake's lips curved, the practical sentiment so basic, so much so, Alex. 357


"Ah, crap, this is getting way too maudlin. I could be on Oprah, for Christ's sake." Alex rocked on his heels and concentrated on the line of floor numbers as they lit one by one. The elevator came to a halt, and the doors swooshed apart. A jean-clad, rumpled version of Potsie from Happy Days almost bumped into them as he stumbled through the opening. "Sorry," the teenager said and slumped into a corner and punched the lobby button. Acting on boyhood memories of hasty exits, they longjumped to the suite's open entrance, each wearing a lopsided smirk. With perfect timing, they froze upon landing and measured feet positions. "Drives me nuts the way you do that. I'm two inches taller, yet you always win." A cough punctuated Alex's grumbled complaint. The elevator opened onto the penthouse suite. Jake's optimistic mood fell away when he looked up and noticed Henry's pallor and Flood's stoic expression. "You interviewed the guest?" "The teenager who left as you arrived." Flood jerked his head in the direction of the elevator. Watery sunlight cast deep shadows in the room's corners, and even though he squinted, Jake couldn't discern either man's expression. A long line of windows gave a grimy snapshot of London, and in the distance, a gigantic Ferris wheel punctuated the landscape. 358


"Helpful?"Alex asked. "Quite. We have photos of the three people involved." "Three? Not two?" Shrugging off his coat, Alex, chameleonic as always, morphed into lawyer interrogator mode. "Blast, not again," Jake muttered as he tugged on one earlobe and walked towards the two men. "Have you ID'd them?" "One, unfortunately. Sent the other two photographs to headquarters mere minutes ago. No results yet. I take it you've met both the caretaker and this Graziella?" Jake slowed and came to an abrupt halt six inches away from Henry and Sir Arthur. Alex shifted until he stood adjacent to him. "I have, Alex hasn't." "Over here." Flood motioned to a laptop on a side table, strode over to it, and tapped a few keys. Following him, Jake shed his coat and flung it onto the sofa. He stilled the impulse to cross his fingers. "Who've you identified?" Alex sandwiched Jake and Sir Arthur Flood and stared at the LCD. "This one." The Yard man hit the up arrow, and an image filled the screen/ "Inspector Flood?" Until he uttered the question, the similarity of their last names had escaped Jake's notice. He cut to Alex and recognized he'd made the connection as well. Two men named Flood working in the same institution, and one had detained Tee at the airport and started the manhunt for her. 359


"A surprise to us as well. This has the whole institution in an uproar. Of course, every agency, every station's on alert. The minute he's spotted, he'll be taken into custody. Shall we move on? Time is of the essence." Sir Flood flicked another key. "This is the woman." "Graziella Leandro," Jake said, recognizing the Latin beauty. Dread caught his belly like a series of punching fists. Flood's finger hit the up arrow again. "This is the other man." "The caretaker." Even though he'd expected it, the blow stun-gunned his brain, and his lungs stuttered to a halt. "His name is Eduardo Frantz. Graziella is his stepsister." Alex stepped into the void, literally. "I had them investigated and received a preliminary report earlier. If I can access my e-mail, I'll forward their backgrounds to you." "By all means, it'll save time," Flood said. "While Alex is doing that, fill us in on the kid's story." "Jake, I haven't had lunch, and this promises to be a long night. While I do this, someone order room service. You know what I want." Alex stated, as he plonked into a leather chair. Within seconds, his fingers flew across the keyboard and the sound of rhythmic clicks punctuated a sudden silence. "Actually, m'boy, we were about to do the same thing." Henry slumped onto the sofa, and picked up a rotary telephone. "And I could use a stiff Scotch. Jake, will you do the honors?" He pointed at a mahogany encased bar. "How long will you be, Alex?" "Less than ten minutes." 360


Although Jake accepted their rationale, impatience licked him into motion. He poured four generous shots of liquor, while Henry placed the meal order. All the while, a brainstorming session played in his head: Flood, the airport detention, Graziella, the caretaker. The inspector's involvement didn't add up, and he found it difficult to throw Sir Arthur Flood into any conspiracy theory. Henry flipped on the gas fireplace when Alex finished, and the four men settled on furniture. Henry and Flood sat, regal in English club chairs, Alex and Jake slouched onto the requisite dark sofa. "Ready?" Alex shot him a let-them-at-it glance, and Jake nodded. "Around ten this morning, the young man you saw earlier waited in the lobby with his two younger brothers for the start of their bus tour." Sir Flood took a sip of his liquor. "The kid who took the elevator as we arrived?" Alex asked. "Yes. The two younger boys played with water pistols, which they were warned not to discharge, while their older brother, the young man you two saw, concentrated on an electronic game on his iPhone. An altercation occurred between the young men that resulted in an exchange of liquid fire." Jake shifted on the leather, which squeaked in protest. "Our young man heard shrieks and looked up to see an invalid in a wheelchair, dressed in Arabic garb, caught in the line of battle." Flood's mouth twitched. "He jumped to his feet to apologize when one of his brothers bumped into the 361


wheelchair and it overturned. Tallulah fell to the floor, and her chadri slipped off." "Tee?" Jake could barely get around the lump in his gullet to get the hoarse question out. "Chadri? Isn't it called a chador?" Alex asked. "Yes, it was Tee, and no it isn't a chador. The word chador connotes basic female Arabic clothing and differs from country to country. Chadri is the traditional garment for Afghan females." Jake cut to Alex and watched his lips flatten at the mention of Afghanistan. He knew his friend had made the same association he had; three bank accounts, one of them in Afghanistan. "Inspector Flood appeared on the scene, and he ordered the boys out of the lobby under threat of arrest. Ticked off and fearful of his parents' recriminations, our young lad used his iPhone to photograph the three adults." Sir Arthur cleared his throat, sipped his Scotch, and then continued, "To while away the time on his bus tour, the lad surfed the Internet, saw our televised conference, and recognized Tallulah's photograph." Room service's buzz interrupted the conversation. Jake answered the doorbell, dismissed the attendants, and rolled the cart in himself. "Okay," Alex said ticking off points on his fingers. "At this point, we know two facts. One, Flood is part of the conspiracy. Two, somehow he knows Graziella, and the caretaker. Do we have any clue as to where they went?" 362


"The bellman recalls they had a car waiting. My men are going through the security videos to try and identify the vehicle." "What about the hotline tip placing her at the airport?" Jake asked. "A team's checking it out as we speak," Flood replied. He stood, dug both fists into the small of his back, and then walked to the dining table. Jake transferred dishes from the cart to the table, and the other men joined him, offering assistance. "Alex, you take care of the drinks. I'm almost done here." Metal clanged as Alex lifted warming lids off plates and beer corks squeaked. Seared meat competed with starch and yeast for domination, and the charcoal-blackened T-bone claimed victory in the smell arena. Alex waved his hands above the steak, lifting curling steam to his nostrils. He inhaled and said, "Heaven. Food's ready. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm eating while it's hot." The four men sat at the table. Jake ate in silence, not tasting a morsel. Analyzing the facts from every angle, the issue of two Floods hit his suspicious bent at the wrong angle. Too many blasted coincidences. But, though it went against all intuition, he resisted the temptation to question Flood about his relationship to the inspector mindful of the man's longstanding friendship with Henry. Still, the inspector's revealed collusion with Graziella and the caretaker answered the 363


question Tee'd asked days earlier about the airport incident, "Why me?" While Alex finished the last of his trifle, the two older men retired to their original seats, nursing a second round of whisky. "I'm heading to the boarding school," Jake murmured. "Saw something?" "No. Going with my gut." Jake eyed the two older men, who were involved in a murmured conversation. "Announcing it?" He shook his head. "Let's make it a quick exit." They did. Weak pre-dusk shadows cratered the sidewalk in front of the lobby, and uniformed bellmen chattered and paced lines, their black-booted feet seeming to step into deep holes here and there. Illusions. "Why the school?" Alex asked. Startled out of his musings, Jake answered, "The cupcakes. It's Tee's comfort conjure. She once told me the pupils at her boarding school found them everywhere when she was upset. And half the time she didn't even realize she'd done it." Alex turned up his collar against the deepening chill and listing breeze. "It's worth a shot, I suppose and there's no real loss to going there. Henry'll phone us if the hotline tip proves fruitful." The haziness of dusk descended, creating a dim half-light that blurred forms and shapes. 364


Illusions. Somewhere a master magician dealt from the bottom of the deck and staged events that appeared unrelated. If only they could find the connecting dots. A bellman greeted them, and only then did Jake realize they'd arrived at Claridge's. All at once, the passing of time ladled alarm and angst into his veins, and he fought to catch a breath. He checked his watch. "It's almost five. Tee's been missing for over six hours. I've watched enough episodes of Without a Trace to know the implications. Flood said because she didn't drink the coffee, the drug's effects would only last two hours, which means they've given her at least one other dose, otherwise she'd think herself to safety." "How long did he say the full effects would last?" "Two hours or thereabouts." Silence reigned in the elevator, both men distracted by their own thoughts. As they entered the suite, seconds later, Alex clapped a hand to his forehead. "The jacket. Two hours. That's it." At Jake's furrowed brow, he added, "It appeared in my room sometime between the two-hour mark and us leaving for the Grosvenor. Tee must have begun regaining consciousness." "If you're trying to make me feel better, it's not working." "Can you think of anything else that would explain it?" Jake shook his head. "Okay, what's the significance?" "She might have had a chance to escape." 365


"Let's discuss this in the car on the way to her boarding school. I'll arrange a rental and MapQuest the school's address. You call Dee and get detailed directions to the cottage." It turned out 24/7 in the UK was something of a misnomer, and if it hadn't been for George Brown finding another cousin, they'd have had to wait until dawn to obtain a car. Less than forty-five minutes later, they sped down the M4 en route to Tee's boarding school. At least the weather cooperated. The rain held off, and one by one, diamond stars twinkled against the charcoal sky. As they neared their destination, the highway grew more deserted, and Jake hit the accelerator, gambling on a lack of police presence. Around midnight, his cell phone jangled. Glancing over at Alex's sleeping features; Jake flipped his phone open and answered in a low murmur, "Mathews here." "Good and bad news," Henry said without any preamble. "The hotline tip is valid. At least four witnesses place Tee at the London City Airport mid-afternoon today, unconscious and in a wheelchair. Both Graziella and the caretaker were with her, no sign of Inspector Flood." A jumping jackrabbit leaped in Jake's chest, and the hand holding his phone grew so clammy, he had to curl his fingers around the base to keep it from slipping out of his grip. "And?" Beside him, Alex jerked upright from a light doze, ran his fingers through his hair, and motioned for Jake to hit the speaker button. He did. 366


"They loaded her onto a private jet destined for South America, Uruguay, specifically. The plane took off around four this afternoon." "Uruguay," Jake repeated, his mind spinning into dark places. "Arthur believes it's a ruse to detract from the true destination. Right now they're working through the night to determine the jet's ownership, and Interpol's working with air route traffic control centers to determine their precise location. We should know more within the hour." "Once we know their location, what happens next?" "Try to determine where the jet will land and intercept them upon touchdown." "Okay, we'll head back. I'll call you as soon as we're in the vicinity. We'll come directly to your suite." Jake stabbed the end button. When he continued down the motorway and didn't take the first exit to pull a U-turn, Alex asked, "Aren't you turning around?" "No. We're only ten minutes away from the boarding school, and every instinct tells me she's there. If I'd listened to my gut from the time this all started, Tee would be safe. I want to check this cottage out." "Might as well since we're so close." Alex yawned and arched his back, knuckling his spine. "We've agreed that none of the players so far possess the skills to head up this whole operation, Tony, Graziella, the caretaker. What about Inspector Flood?" "He seemed too hotheaded." Jake depressed the indicator and took his foot off the accelerator. "But, we don't know 367


enough about the man to rule him out entirely. And he's definitely involved. How the hell did he know Graziella? Through Tony? I don't think so." "The caretaker is a good two decades younger than Flood. Either Sir Arthur's involved or there's something connecting the four of them. I know you're hesitant to consider Sir Arthur because of his friendship with Henry, but we have to add him to the pot." "What's his motive? Money? According to Henry, his family's wealthy, titled, and connected." As they left the main highway, urban lights dimmed, and the way ahead became shrouded in darkness. Around a sharp U-turn, the road narrowed into a country lane, and Jake slowed the car. "Directions?" "I'm checking my notes. We should approach a four-way stop soon. After that there'll be a brook on our left and a field on the right. Hit the odometer as soon we spot the brook, and we get out at the two kilometer mark, climb over a fence, and walk due east. The cottage is about a ten-minute walk." Jake stabbed the power window button, and a moist, icy breeze wrapped around his throat and hands. A faint hint of manure added a dank texture to the air, and it thickened as the vehicle crawled forwards. "This is it," he said and exerted pressure on the foot brake. "Fog," Alex grumbled, and he swung the door open. "Mud. No, worse, cow crap. Perfect—fog and crap. All we need now is rain. Tee'd better be here." 368


They clambered over the picket fence and surveyed the field. Tall brown grass, slick with dew, brushed against their pants as they strode forward. "Are we ruling out Sir Arthur?" "No. It's too much of a coincidence, two Floods in the same organization." "You do realize the implications?" "Yeah, Henry's best friend could be his worst enemy." [Back to Table of Contents]

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Maggie May Rain sluiced their faces, the wind slanted rivulets, and within seconds they were drenched. From the moment he found out about Tee's disappearance, Jake hadn't allowed a second of doubt, a tinge of uncertainty into his mind. Restrained emotions filled him now, coating each sucking step, each hunched motion. Bleakness, despair settled into every nook and cranny, the tic under his eye, an ache low in his belly, the jumping pulse at his throat. Nerves and muscles hitherto unknown flared a lighthouse beacon, tingling in preparation; his body crouched for the ultimate blow, a mortal delivery. Life without Tee. Not a tree dotted the field's expanse, and the wind howled a mournful cry, whistling its grief, hammering misery into every pore until the effort of lifting a foot echoed the contemplation of life without Tee. Empty. Joyless. They reached the hut in less than ten minutes, and Jake realized he'd pinned everything on this small structure, this roof-caving-in woodsman's pile of logs. "Crap," Alex muttered. "This thing's going to fall apart if we so much as touch it." He didn't respond, couldn't. Pulling a flashlight out of the pocket of his jacket, Alex switched the light on, and a narrow cone of light illuminated 370


the four or five feet in front of them. A low chorus of moos rumbled across the pasture. "Stand back." Jake hit the windowpane, but it took three blows to break the glass. He inserted his hand into a jagged hole, unlatched the window, shoved it up, and stuck his head inside. The shadowed interior didn't reveal anything. He lifted a leg through the window frame and heaved his body into the hut. Alex followed and swung the torch in a wide circle. Jake made out a square room with several lumpy, dusty armchairs scattered around a circular wooden coffee table. "See anything?" "No, look at that table." Every word wounded, and even as he forced logical reasoning to the forefront, hopelessness set in, cratering his chest. "There's at least an inch of dust on it. No one's used this place for a while." "There's another room." Alex pointed to an arch on the other side of the cottage. "Let's check it out." He ducked under the low curve, broke through a thick mass of cobwebs, and flicked the clinging, sticky threads from his hand. The small room smelled musty. The torch flickered. "The battery must be low. Turn it off. Save it for the walk back." Jake squinted at the lone piece of furniture in the room. "There's something on the bed." The light from the lamp grew dimmer. It faded altogether a few seconds later. Please, please, he prayed, and with each plea, his heart hammered louder, until the din in his ears 371


drowned movement, thought, until begging, bargaining became salvation. Jake approached the bed with red-light-inching steps. His pulse sprinted to the final finish, and he held his breath, too afraid to hope. He knelt down at the side of the bed. In the pitch-blackness, all he could make out was a female form curled into a fetal position. Every instinct told him he'd found her. "Christ, it is Tee, isn't it?" Alex stood behind him. "I've never known anyone else who always smells of roses." He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "Lavender. Roses, lavender, and musk, that special Tee smell. Thank God." He rested his head on the mattress next to hers. "She's unconscious, out cold." He pressed his thumb against her wrist. "Her pulse is steady, but she's freezing. Search around. See if you can find a blanket, buddy." Alex slipped out of his down jacket. "Here, put this on her. It'll keep her warm." He covered Tee with the coat. "We can't take her out in this weather. We'll have to spend the rest of the night here." "Right. You stay with her. I'll reconnoiter the other room." Jake crept onto the mattress, and it groaned under his weight. He lifted Tee onto his lap and pressed the jacket around her body. Her skin felt cold and clammy. He rubbed her shoulders. This was it then, church once a week for the rest of his life. He sent a silent thank you to God and buried his face in her damp hair. "Should I call Henry?" Alex reentered the room. "We'll wake him up." 372


"If you were in his position, what would you want?" "When you're right, you're right." Alex pressed Henry's number, and a companionable quiet reigned for a few seconds. "Henry, it's Alex Mayfield. Sorry to wake you up, but we thought you'd like to know we found Tee. She's unhurt, but unconscious. We're in a thatched hut located on the grounds of her old boarding school. It's raining up a storm, and Jake doesn't want to take her out in this weather. We're going to spend the night here. We'll call you in the morning before we leave." Alex fell silent. "Okay. Yes. I'll let him know." Alex hung up. "Henry'll notify Sir Arthur. He'll also call Tee's mom and Dee. He wants us to bring her back first thing in the morning." "What time is it?" "Nearly three." "The bed's not too bad. Why don't you get some sleep? I'll stay here." "Sounds good. See you in the morning." The rising sun glowed through the thick covering of dust on the broken window. Dark circles under Tee's eyes became apparent in the dawn's radiance. Her skin held an ashen quality. Jake stroked her cheek. Alex walked into the room. He glanced at him. "Has she woken yet?" He shook his head. "Not once. She hasn't even turned in her sleep." "It'll be a long haul to the car, carrying her." "What other choice do I have?" 373


"None," Alex grumbled. The sun limned the horizon as Jake stared at the bluetipped sky. Yesterday's rain may never have fallen except for the muddy earth beneath their feet. It didn't take as long as he expected to reach the car and Tee felt like a gossamer angel in his arms. "Open the back door, Alex. Do you mind driving?" He wriggled into the seat, careful not to jolt the precious bundle in his arms. "No problem. You'll have to give me directions, though. I was asleep most of the way here." His cell vibrated, and Jake fumbled with his belt clip. "Mathews speaking." Henry. "Where?" A muscle under his right eye jumped as he listened. Alex turned around in the driver's seat, one arm draped along the headrest. "Why?" His friend lifted one eyebrow. "Tee needs medical attention, Henry. She's been unconscious since we found her." When Alex jangled the keys, Jake nodded. "I don't like it." He shifted Tee to the right. "Okay. We'll be there in two hours." The SUV's engines roared to life, the sound discordant in the peace and quiet of the English pastoral setting. Brown birds previously occupying a thick communication wire cackled a noisy protest as their flock took to flight. 374


"What did Henry have to say?" "Flood wants us to take Tee to the Met's main office." "And you objected?" "Wouldn't you?" For long moments Alex stared at him. "You do realize that if someone at Arthur's level is involved in all of this, we're up a creek?" "Tell me I'm crazy to even suspect him." "Can't. So what do we do?" "Take her there and watch our backs." "Henry?" "Blast if I know what to do there. The man would never believe Arthur's involved. These guys go back years." "It'd be like me suspecting you." "Yeah. Drive, buddy, and let's bounce things around. Maybe inspiration will hit." Two hours later, Alex negotiated their car into a miniscule parking spot one block away from the Met's headquarters. He opened the back door. Jake stumbled as he exited the vehicle and leaned against the side of the car. He straightened and shifted Tee to adjust to walking with her in his arms. "Are you going to carry her all the way?" "Seeing as she isn't conscious, do I have any other choice?" "You don't have to snap." Jake cut a path through the crowd of pedestrians on the sidewalk. No one glanced twice in their direction, a clear stamp of the famous British stoicism. Security directed them 375


to the top floor of the Met building. An armed guard accompanied them. "Tee," Henry greeted them at the elevator. He closed his eyes. "She's safe, thank goodness." "She hasn't stirred once. Did you get a doctor?" "Yes, he's waiting for us. Follow me." Henry led them to a wooden double door. "Jake, Alex. Good to see you again." Sir Arthur Flood stood up. "This is our resident doctor, Dr. Carmichael." A short, wiry man stood next to him. "Coffee, tea? Help yourself." Arthur motioned to a side table. "Why don't you put her on the sofa?" the doctor suggested. "I need to examine her." Reluctantly, Jake lowered Tee to the couch. He snatched a throw from the back of the chair and wrapped it around her socked feet. Nudging a stool close to the bed, he caged her hand between both of his palms. She had warmed up in the car, and her body temperature seemed normal. "This will take a few minutes. I'm going to draw her blood. The lab's on standby. They'll analyze the sample and let us know the results in no time at all. Do you mind, young man?" Jake released Tee's hand, strode over to the buffet table, and poured a mug of coffee. Alex mimicked his actions, but he added three cubes of sugar to the brown liquid, while Jake drank his black. They waited in silence while a messenger ran down two floors to the lab. Arthur and Henry murmured political platitudes while Jake and Alex dissected their every word to 376


no avail. Tee didn't budge. Not a limb twitched, even though Jake willed her awake, lucid. He needed to hear her voice utter a single syllable. The messenger returned fifteen minutes later and handed a folded slip of paper to the doctor. "Gentlemen," he said and cleared his throat. "Mrs. Trent's blood contains a large dose of propofol and a trace of Sodium Pentothal." "Isn't Sodium Pentothal truth serum?" Alex asked. "Yes, the combination of the two drugs would send your daughter unconscious for six to eight hours." "The truth serum?" Jake probed. "Once she regained consciousness, she'd answer any questions asked of her." Alex and Jake exchanged uneasy glances. The elevator bell dinged, and the men turned to face the open doors. Three men sprinted through the entrance to the room. "Problem?" Flood inquired. "Fire on the second floor," one of the men gasped out. "We have to clear the building." "I don't like this one bit," Alex murmured. "Let's stick together." "Why didn't they take the stairs?" Alex cut to Jake. "Salient point. The alarm hasn't gone off, either. Maggie May." The old code word triggered a watershed of possessiveness and alarm Jake scooped Tee into his arms and headed for the doorway. Alex and he assumed protective positions with the 377


other man flanking Jake's rear. At the precise second they reached the doorway, the piercing shrieks of smoke alarms filled the air. Water sprinklers on the ceiling sprang to life, drenching them in a hard splatter of icy water. Jake slung Tee over his shoulder. He strode to the emergency exit. The three Scotland Yard men followed close on his heels. Alex hung behind until they entered the stairwell and then followed inches away from the last Yard representative. Jake slowed his pace, slithering behind two of the men using the thick smoke to disguise his exact position. Switching Tee to his arms, he shouldered the ground floor door open. Air, so thick and smoky it seemed to smolder, encircled them, thickening their lungs to wheezing point. One of the men grabbed Jake's arm from behind. "Alex!" he roared. "Maggie May!" Jake kicked the man's knee and elbowed him. From the rear, the other man tried to pull Tee out of his arms. Jake tightened his hold across her legs. He pivoted and kicked his right foot high, hitting his attacker's jaw. The man's legs flew out from under him and he landed on his back. Jake stumbled against the wall, shifted Tee onto his shoulder and drove his right fist into the second man, knuckles burning on impact, and, without a second's hesitation, he swiveled in the direction of an explosion. Five feet away, the last of the three men pointed a gun at his head. "Drop her now!" the man shouted. Alex appeared behind his attacker and smashed a red fire extinguisher across the man's skull. "Behind you, Jake. Duck." 378


He crouched to the floor. Alex jumped over him. "Run. Get Tee out of here. It's an ambush." Jake sprang up and glanced over his shoulder. Alex and another man scuffled on the floor near the stairwell. He broke into a sprint in the direction of the reception area. A wall of people blocked the revolving door at the entrance to the building. Doing an about-face, he ran in the opposite direction and bumped into Alex in front of the door to the stairs. "The underground garage." Alex held the door open. "Let's go." He followed Jake down the steps. "The fire was a ruse. I knew we shouldn't have come back here." Metal clanked as they rushed down the stairs. The sound of pounding footsteps and urgent shouts from floors above echoed around them. The underground parking garage was empty of activity, but full of cars. Alex tested each automobile as he went down the line of vehicles. At the second row, he found an open door. "This one." He popped the hood. "You drive. I'll hot-wire it." He disappeared under the front of the automobile. Jake slid Tee into the passenger side and buckled her in. He swung into the driver's seat and waited mere seconds before the car's engine roared to life. "Where are we going?" Alex hopped into the back seat. "To get the trunk." "Crap. I don't want to go back to 1501." "It's the safest place for Tee right now." He inched the car into the snarled London traffic. "It may be better if you stay 379


behind anyway. Keep the suite at Claridge's. I'll check with you every evening." It took thirty minutes to reach the hotel. "Alex, you go in and get the trunk. I don't want to leave Tee for a minute." "I'll be right back." Alex unclipped his seatbelt and jumped out of the vehicle. Jake's jangled nerves stopped sparking, and his pulse had returned to normal. He glanced at Tee and reached over to brush her cheek with the back of his hand. A tap on the window prompted him to look up. He discovered Alex holding the chest and an emergency kit. Jake pressed the down button for the driver's window. "Thanks, buddy." He took the objects. "Let Henry know we're safe, but make sure he doesn't tell anyone, including Sir Arthur where we are." "You still think Flood might be involved?" "I suspect everyone at this point except you, Henry, and me." Jake put the chest on the floor in front of the passenger seat. "See you soon." "Good luck." Alex moved away from the car. He drove the Land Rover to the M4. At the first service stop, he exited and steered the vehicle to the far corner of the parking lot. Dropping the car keys into his pocket, he shifted Tee onto his lap, picked up the pirate chest, and opened it, repeating the Gaelic phrase his mother had taught him. [Back to Table of Contents] 380


Happy Ever Afters The attic room at Brodick Castle still contained the double bed and the footed bathtub. Jake placed a hand on Tee's forehead and found her skin warm and dry. The open window behind the bed let in a chilly breeze. He closed it and tucked her under the covers. The fire in the grate gave off a low glow. He added timber and logs and built the blaze back up. Night had fallen in the few minutes spent at the fireplace, and he shucked off his shoes and clothes and slipped into the bed, drawing her under the crook of his arm. She murmured something unintelligible and snuggled closer, laying her cheek on his chest. Content, he listened to her deep, even breathing and drifted off. He awoke to the sound of retching and shot to a sitting position. His alarm skyrocketed when he saw Tee vomiting into the bathtub. "It's probably the drugs they gave you." He hopped off the bed, snatched the white emergency kit Alex had given him, and shook out an Aleve painkiller. He poured water from an earthenware jug on the bedside table into a goblet and took it to her. "Here." He handed the cup to her and dropped the pill into her palm. "Take this." She complied and then leaned against the wall, handed him the cup, and closed her eyes. "I don't feel well." "I know, babe." He tucked a stray curl behind her ears. "Do you remember what happened?" 381


She shook her head. "Ooh. That makes me so dizzy. My head hurts." He scooped her into his arms, walked to the bed, sat, and rested his head against the window frame. "Do you think fresh air might help?" "It's worth a try." She flashed him a wan smile. He flicked the latch and opened the shutters. A slight breeze sent cool air over his shoulder, and the fresh, clean smell of pine filled the room. "Why are we at Brodick?" "What's the last thing you remember?" He brought a handful of her tawny locks to his nose and sniffed, comforted by the familiar mixture of rose, lavender, and musk. "You were going to meet us for lunch and tell Dad we were dating." She cupped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my, did I say that aloud?" He grinned, everything now right and shining in his world. Tracing the soft swell of her cheek, the regal line of her nose, he marveled at how crucial she'd become to him, how being able to touch her, hold her, made him content, made him complete. "I died a million times while you were missing." Jake leaned his forehead against hers. "I kept thinking about all the things we haven't done together. Like taking a shower, like waking up next to you, like kissing you last thing at night." "I thought about you too," she whispered and outlined his mouth with a finger. "What happened, Jake? Last thing I 382


remember was eating that breakfast you ordered from room service and then feeling sleepy and lying down." "I didn't order room service, Tee. I wish I had now. Somehow, Inspector Flood hooked up with Graziella and the caretaker, who happens to be her stepbrother, and they sent that room service cart to you. The orange juice and the coffee were drugged. After you passed out, they kidnapped you, put you into a wheelchair, and escorted you out of the hotel." "Pardon me?" She knuckled her temples. "Eight Bells' caretaker is Grazeilla's stepbrother? Oh no. The three of them, Tony, Graziella, and the caretaker, they knew each other, didn't they? Am I a complete idiot? I never, ever suspected." "It came as a complete surprise to me too. It appears that Graziella, Tony, and her brother all grew up in the same village in Uruguay, so there's a childhood connection. What Alex and I can't figure out is how Inspector Flood got involved with them." "What does this mean? Is that why Flood detained me at Heathrow? Does Sir Arthur know of this?" "He seems to be as shocked as we are about his nephew's involvement. Tee, how well does your father know this man? Could Sir Arthur be the person behind all of this?" "Damn. If you'd asked me that a couple of weeks ago, I would've said no in a heartbeat. But then again, I'd never have believed Graziella and Tony knew each other from childhood, and I certainly hadn't a clue she and the caretaker were related." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm 383


confused, and this headache isn't helping. Explain things to me." Her expression underwent a series of transformations at Jake's summary of the events while she was unconscious. During his narration, those cat eyes flashed fear, temper, and a strange determination. "I want them in jail," she gritted. "All of them. I can't believe they played me like that. From the damned start. How's Dad taking all of this? Have we been on the news?" He explained the press conference, the hotlines, how they'd come to find her, and why they were at Brodick in the past. "We can't stay here forever." Trailing a finger down each vertebra, he lingered at the small of her back, smoothing the skin there, feeling it ripple under his touch. "I'm well aware of that. Tonight, when I check in with Alex, we'll figure out our next move." Tee jerked onto her forearms, pushing off his chest. "And I don't get a say in this? It is my future we're talking about." "Of course you do. I didn't mean it that way. Hell, Tee, I don't want you going back unless we know it's safe." "But, I won't be safe until they realize I don't know anything about the passcodes for this bank account. How're we supposed to convince them of that? I'm damned sure Graziella isn't going to take my word on it." "You're on the mark there. And truthfully, I'm out of bright ideas. At least here you're safe, and we don't have to watch our every move." 384


"Now I'm pissed," she said, and those amber eyes blazed defiance. "I want to nail each and every one of them, and I wish Tony was still alive so I could hurt him. And that other man, the one on the plane, I want him in jail too." "So you were on a plane? Two eyewitnesses put you there, but we found you at the old cottage on your old boarding school's ground. What happened?" "I woke up, and I was pretty groggy. Everything seemed hazy. I thought I saw Graziella and another man, didn't get a good look at him, but it could have been the caretaker. I knew I was in a plane because of the engines' noise. Then I saw the other man, and Graziella started walking to me with a hypodermic in her hand. I remember seeing a drop at the tip of the needle and thinking this wasn't good." She looked around the room. "And then I woke up here." "The police told us that if you'd drunk all of the coffee and all of the OJ, you'd have been out for four to six hours." "But, I didn't. You know, I wondered about the coffee 'cause you know I prefer tea." "Thank God for that. You must've reached for safety during those brief moments you came to, knowing instinctively something was wrong, and conjured yourself back to the cottage." He stroked the sleek curve of her shoulder. "How did you know about the cottage? It used to be our secret clubhouse." "Called Dee and asked her what would happen to your powers if you were drugged. She said you'd reach for something or someplace comforting and gave us a few suggestions, including the cottage." 385


"What an ass I am. Life is too short for this damned crap, and I'm not letting anyone cheat me out of happiness. I'll move in with you, Jake, tomorrow if you'd like. I don't want to miss another moment." "Shssh," he said and placed two fingers on her lips. "I've decided to make the Trinidad office my new headquarters." "Pardon me?" Something warm and fuzzy coated his brain and other organs at the astonishment lighting her features, the wonderfilled glow in those amber eyes. "It makes sense," he said, backtracking. "You could still work with the kids, and you wouldn't be all alone in a strange country. Of course, we'll have to find a way to deal with your mother, but hell, that's a problem no matter where we are." "Jake?" Her turn now to silence him, but he kissed the fingertip pressuring his mouth and smiled, happiness giddying rational thought. "Tee?" "I love you." And her light brown eyes misted, one lone tear listing across a high cheekbone, dripping right into his soul. "Say it again," he demanded, and his words surprised him into silence. "I," she said and kissed his chest. "Love." She gnawed on his nipple. "You." "Thank God," he stated, reverence and gratitude spurring a fevered trail of hot, wet, open-mouthed touches up her slender neck, across eyebrows, around her earlobe, and the 386


saccharine curve of a ridged cheekbone. He rested his mouth on the life pulsing at her throat. Her wary amber eyes examined him, the question she didn't voice straining the silence. "I think I fell in love with you the moment I met you." "Oh my," she said, and her hand gravitated to his cheek. "You say it again." "I love you." The words not only didn't choke him, but they felt right and certain and perfect. And he wanted to shout it to the world, scream it from a mountaintop, proclaim it on one of those plane banners. "I love you," he said and brushed his lips against hers. "Oh my." Her fingers twirled in his hair, kneading, caressing, and she tugged his head down and opened her mouth over his, licking her way in, tangling tongues, drinking souls together. She drew away and flashed him a molten caramel smile, one shoulder lifted in a feminine gesture as old as civilization and unmistakable in its invitation. He surrendered. "I wish I met you first," she murmured. "I so hate that Tony happened." "Shssh," he said. "I love you. You love me. It all worked out." "But, what about Scotland Yard and Interpol and all the rest? If it hadn't been for Tony, you and I wouldn't be in trouble." "Hell, Tee. I don't care. All I care about is that we're together, and I do owe Tony Trent for bringing you into my life. Now that I think back on it, I think he must have 387


suspected how I felt about you, and used it to his advantage to keep me off my game. I underestimated him completely. There're not too many people who can dupe me, but he sure did." "You almost sound like you admire him," Tee murmured, her eyelids drooping. "Credit where credit's due, babe. Round one to Tony, but I never make the same mistake twice." Cupping a hand over her mouth, Tee yawned, making a delightful squeal at the top of the movement. "Sorry." "How're you feeling? Nausea gone?" "Hmm. I'm beat. I guess it must be the aftereffects of the drugs they gave me, but I don't feel sick anymore, just sleepy." "Why don't you nap? When you wake up, I'll take you to meet my family." The word thickened his tongue, the foreignness of the concept sending uneasy shivers across his neck. A tiny snort captured his attention, and he glanced down to discover Tee's lashes fluttering against her cheeks, her features slackening into a peaceful repose. For long moments, he watched her sleep deepening into a steady rise and fall, her breath tickling his chest, a soft sigh threading down his belly. Assured of Tee's safety and comfort, Jake edged out of her embrace and the bed. Dressing in silence, he shot one last look at his woman smiling in her dreams and snuck out of the room. 388


Tiny lounged against the far wall. "Were you waiting for me?" "Aye." "How did you know I was here?" "Is pretty boy with you?" One of his golden eyebrows arched. "No, but Tee is. Back off. How did you know we were here?" "'Tis the room, Laird. It changes depending upon who's in it. The last time you were here, the walls turned pink. Look." Tiny pointed to the wall. He inched into the hallway and rubbed his chin. "So it is. What color is it when it's empty?" "Gray." "Were you passing by?" "No, the pink is on the outside too. Everyone knows you're here. Your mother ordered us not to disturb you." "Yet, here you are." "I owe pretty boy a riding lesson." "Alex didn't come. Don't look so disappointed. He'll be back, I'm sure." He cuffed Tiny on the shoulder. "Where is everyone?" "Your da and brother await you in the hall. Your mother's arranging a feast to celebrate your return. Lady Elaine's anxious to meet your betrothed." Uh-oh. Jake massaged his neck, thumbing an aching spot. Hard enough to say those three words, yet asking her to marry him proved a fate worse than death. She hadn't wanted to move in with him. 389


She loved him. She said the words. More than once. From a business standpoint, this was a no-brainer. So why did his pulse race at the thought of the question? Why did guilt plague him? He knew why, but that didn't make anything easier. Following Tiny down the hall and the stairs to the banquet room, he never noticed the rising sun showering stained glass windows with rainbows and casting figures and forms over the bare stone floor. Jake found Stephen, Elaine, and Kieran in the enormous great hall. Kieran and Stephen wore identical bemused expressions. Elaine stood on the dais, issuing orders commando style. Servants bustled about. Elaine spotted him at once and motioned him over. Standing on the dais, his mother stood eye to eye with him, and she patted his jaw, delicate little fingers stroking his stubbled skin. "Jamie, love, I'm glad you're back." She kissed first one cheek and then the other. "I expected you two days ago, son. What happened?" Jake's mind whirled. His mother had the ability to make him feel as if he'd stumbled off a spinning fairground ride. "You expected me?" "Of course. Now that I've found you again, I'll always know when you're coming and if you need me." Elaine's forefinger feathered over his cheekbone. "Now, where is your betrothed? I am anxious to meet my new daughter." 390


"She hasn't actually agreed to marry me as yet," he warned. "So please don't call Tee that when you meet her." "She will, Son, no mind." Elaine paused to issue an order to two maids carrying a brace of candles. "We're having a feast to celebrate your visit tonight." "We don't feast every time I return from abroad." Stephen's droll voice startled him. "Stephen, you know that's not true. Do not bait your brother." "Little brother, you've deigned to honor us with your presence. I hear your leman is with you. Tiny says she's a fetching thing. All brothers are supposed to share. Are you willing?" Jake's hands fisted at his sides, and he glowered at Stephen. "Tee is not my leman." "Good." Stephen's lips turned up in a nasty leer. "Then you won't mind if I make her mine." "Boys, behave. Stephen, stop teasing your brother. He'll think you're serious." Elaine swatted her diminutive, pale hand at Stephen's shoulder. "And why would I not be serious?" Stephen's left eyebrow arched. "Take your brother to your da." Elaine shook a finger in their direction. "If I hear of any squabbling, both of you will answer to me. Do you understand?" "Ah, Mother dearling, I'm prodding the poker. Jamie is too serious for his own good. He has no sense of humor. I've decided it's my duty to teach him how to laugh." 391


"Once there's no quarreling, I don't care what you do. Now off to your father. He'll be wanting to spend time with both his sons." Hours later, a bruised and battered Jake made his way up the stairs to the attic, wishing fervently for an elevator. Every muscle ached. Somehow, they'd persuaded him to join the rest of the men in practice. After an hour of swordplay, they'd taken up archery. It looked so easy. Between wielding a heavy-as-lead weapon they called a claymore and twanging an impossibly taut bow string, his right arm was ready to fall off. Stephen's and Tiny's snickers echoed in his mind. When he got back to the future, he and Alex were going to become proficient in swordplay and archery before they showed their faces again in 1501. He met his mother on the second floor landing, and she requested a few minutes of his time. To his delight, she spoke with him about his visions, termed the second sight in this time. Elaine promised to give Tee a tool that would help both of them with their special abilities and seemed to know an awful lot about Tee even though she'd never met her. He marveled at the easy acceptance of supernatural powers by the inhabitants of the sixteenth century. Would that it were so in the twenty-first century, but prejudice seemed to run hand in hand with progress. He found Tee singing in the shower. His tiredness evaporated. He shed his clothes and slipped onto the wet tiles. 392


"What happened to the bathtub?" He winked at her. "I liked that thing." "I had to wash my hair. It's much easier in a shower." She flashed Jake a saucy grin. "Any objections?" "Noooo, witchy woman. I can think of any number of wonderful things we can do in a shower." Jake surveyed the enticing woman in front of him. She had shampoo in her hair, her hands tangled in a mass of white froth on top of her head. The action arched her breasts upwards. Foam drifted onto her chest, around her navel, and down to the curls between her legs. His arousal strained at his belly. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder and took over the job of shampooing her hair. She leaned back, wriggling her bottom against his cock. "I wished for you," she admitted. "That feels so good." "I can't wait to make love to you on the beach. You do realize we seem to have a thing about water." He angled the showerhead onto her hair and washed the soap out of her long curls. "Mmmm." She tucked her hands behind her bum and found his thick, smooth hardness. "Feels wonderful, my sweet little witch. Don't stop." His hands dropped to her breast, and his eager fingers circled the peachy-pink areolas. She spun around in Jake's arms and draped her hands around his neck. "It's my turn, darling. Last time you were in charge. This time I get to practice chapter one. I'm doing the honors." 393


His shaft twitched on her stomach, and he melted into the impish, sensual light in her eyes. "Do you see me protesting? By the way, I like the darling bit." He held up his hands. "Go ahead, my lovely witch. Have your wicked way with me." "I have at least a decade of fantasies to try out, darling." She pushed his chest and pointed to one side. "Sit." "What?" His head shifted to the right. She had conjured up a wide marble bench against the tiled wall. Steam filled the shower stall. Jake sat. His penis jerked in gleeful anticipation. "Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?" She lathered his locks. "It's so black and curly. It looks coarse, but feels like silk. Close your eyes." "Don't want to," he muttered. "The view from here is the second best one in the world." He reached out to fondle the breasts dancing so close to his mouth. "Uh-uh." She edged away. "Only when I say so." His mouth burned, and his lips twitched, aching to taste her, lave those rosy nipples.. She washed the shampoo out of his hair and then placed open-mouthed kisses down his wet temple. "On that very first night you came to Trinidad, the minute we were introduced." Nibbling her way down Jake's cheek, she whispered, "I knew you were dangerous to me. My whole body tingled, and I couldn't think straight." She stared into his eyes. "Do you remember when I gave you that glass of whiskey?" So mesmerized he couldn't speak, he nodded. "Your fingers touching mine scorched my skin." Smudges of pink color stained her cheekbones. "You started a fire in 394


me. By the end of the night, my panties were soaked. I could hardly walk I ached so badly." She slipped her tongue along the seam of his lips. They parted immediately, inviting her in. She straddled his legs and let her heels rest on the bench. The move made his balls tighten, and his gaze fixated on the glimpse of pink folds amidst the tawny curls cradling his arousal. "Now that's the best view in the universe. Wider, babe," he pleaded. "Spread your legs wider, Tee my love." She let her thighs fall apart, slanted her lips over his, and swept her tongue into his mouth. He groaned. Rubbing her smoldering center against his cock, she shifted her hips left and right. The kiss took on a life of its own. The honeyed, warm, fresh taste of her lit the fuse of their passion. Steam billowed around them, warming and caressing every tingling pore. Her lips left his, and she traced a hot, moist path up to his earlobe. His hands dropped to her waist. She wriggled. "Uh-uh, darling." She twirled her tongue into the whorls of his ear and whispered, "That night, when I went back to Greenbriar, I slept naked for the first time ever." His whole body tightened in response to her words. "Hell, Tee." He cupped her chin and turned her face to his. "I closed my eyes and imagined you touching me." She glided his hand across her belly and pressed his thumb against the pulsing pearl center cradled by slick folds. "Here. I touched myself here and pretended it was you, your fingers." 395


His penis pulsed against her navel. "Hell, I was in my hotel room," he moaned and circled the pad of his thumb on her nubbin, pressing firmly. "Fantasizing about you, consumed with shame because I wanted my partner's fiancée." "I felt so guilty because you excited me, and Tony didn't." She brushed her lips against his and cradled his face in her hands. "Tony never, ever made me feel the way I did that night. Then, the next day, you virtually ignored me." "Try to understand, my reaction to you was so violent, so out of control, I had to find some distance." Jake's swirling thumb sent her eyelids down, leaving a narrow slit. She took his hand away, interlocked their fingers, and held it to the tiles by his head. "My turn, remember." She explored his mouth again. Her slow, drugged kisses sent sparks bursting through his veins. Climbing off his legs, Tee sat on her haunches, nipped her way down his neck, and then lathered soap onto his skin. Leaning across his body to massage his shoulders, her taut nipples brushed against the fine spray of black hair on his chest. Each scrape fed the fever between his legs. "Did you ever touch yourself again?" He rested his head against the warm tiles, enjoying the pressure of her firm fingers on his sore muscles. "Hmmm." She licked her lips. Her eyes strayed to his erect nipples. Flicking hers to prancing attention, she rose off her heels and squirmed, aiming the turgid tips at each other. "Oh my." 396


She did it again. "Do you like that?" Her voice came out as a croak. "Do it a few more times so I can decide." He grinned at her and scraped his thumb over the tight point of her other breast. "Tell me. Did you?" The flush on her face crept down her body. "No." She bit her lip. "I couldn't. Not while Tony and I were married. But after he died..." Her voice trailed off. "I want to watch you." He ducked his head and captured her lips. He fed on her mouth, his greed growing with every plunge of his tongue, every light bite of her lower lip. His free hand slid to her breast, and he pinched her nipple softly. "Play with this for me," he whispered. "I want to see you." "I think I need a few glasses of wine before I try that." She wouldn't look him in the eye. "Witchy woman, you're still too shy." His eyes were halfopen. "We can do it together." She shook her head. "No. Don't distract me. This is my turn." "Your show, babe." He placed his free hand next to his ear. "Look, no hands, just don't torture me too much longer." She rubbed a large bar of powder blue, musky scented soap between her hands and massaged large circles of foam onto his chest. Tracing a circle around his dark areolas with her forefinger, she mimicked his actions with her, pinching his nipples and using her fingernails, lightly abrading the stiff points. His pectoral muscles rippled in response. She glanced up at him and flashed him a gleeful, triumphant smile. 397


"Your eyes are smoldering," she said and nipped his earlobe. "They're making me burn inside." Paralytic desire thrummed every nerve; his rapt gaze fused on her every motion. She dribbled water over his chest. The creamy froth ran down his taut, bronzed stomach. Taking his nipple between her teeth, she sawed the erect tip and peeked up at him. His eyes met hers. "Bite harder." Jake groaned and arched off the wall when she complied. "That goes straight to my cock." She moved over and nipped and grazed until his hips bucked against hers. Licking the water off his belly, she placed her hand underneath his shaft, and used it to elevate his engorged erection. The musky scent of his arousal strained through the soap she rubbed into his pelvis. Tee turned her attention to his pulsing organ and snuck a look up at him. She knelt between his legs and elbowed the insides of his knees. Jake obliged and spread his legs wider. He reached down and stroked a finger across her lower lip. For a long moment, they looked into each other's eyes, a poignant tenderness captured in a fragment of time. "I love you, Tee Inglefield," he whispered. "Oh Jake. I love you too. I've never felt so close to anyone, ever." She laid her cheek against his cock and swiped her tongue along the head. "I read chapter one three times." He moaned. "Taste, the Long and Hard of It"? "Have you read The Perfect Blow Job too?" Her brown eyes threatened to drown her face, guileless delight shining at him. 398


"No, babe, I found it on the chair at Claridge's and read the chapter titles. The first one intrigued me, but I had more important things on my mind that night." His penis twitched against her cheek. The slick head flicked across her skin, leaving a trail of sticky moisture. She trailed her fingernail along the purple-pink tip showing through his foreskin and slid the skin down, exposing the thick length of him. Her tongue snaked out and twirled around the top of his shaft. She dropped her hands and picked up the soap from the bench, moistened the blue bar in the shower spray, and worked up a mound of creamy foam between her palms. Holding him tightly at the base of his cock, she spread the soap up, down, and over his smooth member. When she lightly scraped her long fingernail under the head of his aching organ, he arched off the bench, the sensation so exciting it hurt, a poignant pain-pleasure. A thin sheen of perspiration swathed his entire body, and he groaned out her name. He opened his eyes when he felt the soothing stream of water dripping over him. Tee wet her lips and licked the water off the top of his penis as if she were slurping ice cream off a cone. Her breathy whimpers sounded as if she thought he tasted like silken dark chocolate Häagen-Dazs. Her enjoyment showed in the rapt expression on her face, in the glow on her cheeks, the swift swirl of her tongue every time a creamy bead appeared at the tip, and the hunger with which she swept it into her mouth.

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Her glazed amber eyes flitted up to his for a brief moment. "You taste scrumptious, darling Jake." She spread his legs apart and pulled his thighs forward. He slid down to the edge of the bench, his eyes glued to her lips brushing down his groin. She cradled his bollocks in her hands. When they contracted in her palms, she grinned. "They move," she whispered and rolled them experimentally. Jake moaned and shifted lower on the seat, giving her more access. She leaned forward and gently sucked one into her mouth. Her tongue lingered around the circumference. His testicle grew hot and heavy and tightened immediately. "No more, babe," he growled and tangled his hands in her hair. "No more." She let it slide out of her mouth and murmured, "Have to do the other one." Shaking his hands off her head, she repeated the process on the other testicle. Her thumb pressed against the flat, hard skin behind his balls. "Tee, stop. Now!" He barked out the command. She reluctantly allowed his flesh to slip away, but her eyes remained fixed on his groin. "Come here, Tee mine." He pulled her up his body and spread her legs on either side of his. "Let's go for a ride, witchy woman. Mount me." She positioned her center over the throbbing ruby head of his cock. The first inch of penetration triggered a wild, orgasmic wave of ecstasy. She leaned her hands on his belly and collapsed down his shaft. 400


Jake watched her come, knowing he would succumb to her contracting heat within seconds. Her eyelids descended slowly, her breasts heaved with each shuddering internal convulsion, and her hair curled around the undersides of her firm, flushed bosom. The erotic sight drove him off the chart. He grabbed her hips in his hands and showed her the rhythm he craved, lifting her up and down his length, plunging into her hot, tight silk. In, out, withdraw, retreat, over and over again, his pace intensified furiously as his climax exploded through every vein, every pore. Her inner muscles spasmed, clenching him. Quivers strung through her, and she collapsed against his chest. Jake drew her closer, and her breasts slipped along his slick skin. He hugged her loosely, too drained to do anything else. Sometime later, he awoke, surprised to find them still on the shower bench, and snickered at their position. A bed seemed too normal for them. The shower stall smelled of intercourse, an erotic, arousing, yet languid aroma. His prick didn't seem to recognize orgasm as satiation and thickened as he inhaled the musky smell of sex, stretching her and signaling her awake. She looked up at him and mewled. No other word could describe her breathy purr. Tracing a forefinger around the outline of her mouth, he forced his expression to remain neutral although his heart leapfrogged in his chest, and his pulse stammered a wild tattoo in his ears. "Tee," he whispered. She folded her hands on his torso and rested her chin on them. "Jake?" she whispered back. 401


"Marry me?" His breath caught in his throat. "What?" She pushed against him. Her startled, wide eyes overwhelmed every other feature. "What did you say?" He felt the rigidity of her stiff arms on his chest. "Will you marry me, Tee Inglefield?" He drowned in the glistening pool of her misty, tawny eyes. A slow, sultry smile crept over her mouth. The light in her face shone more brilliantly than the brightest star on a pitchblack, crisp, clear country night. "Oh yes, Jake. Yes, yes, yes." Tee scrambled up his body and threw her arms around his neck. She nipped a blur of kisses on his neck, his face, and his eyelids. Jake managed to breathe again. He whispered, "Thank God," and leaned his forehead against hers for a split second. He scooped her up and wobbled over to the bed, drunk as a skunk on her, on their future, on love. Love was never supposed to happen to him, but it had. He felt young again, the thrill of new beginnings coursed, brimming hope, excitement, delight, utter joy. And she returned the emotions threefold in eyes so luminous they could light the darkest gloom. He slid her down his body, wrapped the conjured fluffy green towels around her, and set her on the bed. "The towels?" He arched one eyebrow. "I remembered somewhere along the line." She dipped her chin. "My sweet witch, conjure anything you like. I'll never complain, but be forewarned, I can get used to expecting small luxuries." He kissed the tip of her nose. 402


"It won't bother you at all? My powers?" The naked worry in her eyes lit a burning in his chest. "I have an Elfish princess as a parent." He couldn't get his tongue comfortably around the word mother. "I have a weakness for the English Quality Street chocolates. Keep me supplied, and I'll reward you any way you like." He waggled his eyebrows. "The witch thing is part of you, and I love you because of it, not in spite of it. Got that?" "It might take a while to sink in," she said. "I may need you to say that regularly." "Hourly? Daily?" Elation and contentment proved more powerful drugs than any on the pharmaceutical market, legal or otherwise. "You just agreed to be my wife. Damn, I love the sound of that." A silly, adolescent grin assailed his mouth. "I am the luckiest woman in the world," she said and rained kisses over his face. Together they lay on the bed, entwined in each other's arms, whispering, caressing, and planning. Time flew by. The sun's light began to wane. Shadows darkened the far corner of the room. Tee's stomach rumbled. "The last time you ate would have been breakfast yesterday. Shall we find you some food?" He smiled. She nodded. Donning clothing occupied at least another half an hour, amidst much giggling on her part and fickle tickling on Jake's. During a flirty tussle, the emergency kit fell off the table. It sobered the moment. "I have to check with Alex." He stuck his head out the window. "What time do you think it is? 403


"Near dusk maybe?" She scrunched her nose. "I can't really tell without a watch." "We arranged to meet at Claridge's around now." He pecked the top of her nose. A knock sounded on the door. "Jamie," his mother's lilting voice called out. "My mother," he mouthed. The look of wild panic on Tee's face made Jake of chuckle. Her eyes darted wildly across the room as if she searched for a place to hide. He opened the door and beckoned his mother inside. "This must be Tee." Elaine's smile lit up the dim dusk light in the room. "I've brought you a dress for the feast tonight." She offered Tee a long navy length of cloth. "I'm Elaine, sweetling, Jamie's mother." Her gaze swiveled from Elaine to Jake. "My mother named me Jamie," he explained. "Jamie Michael Ferguson." Elaine beamed, the delicate skin on her forehead puckered. "I must admit, I do prefer it to this Jake Jamie seems to like. Perhaps you can help me persuade him otherwise." She linked her arms with Tee and kissed her on the cheek. "Welcome to the family, Daughter. Jamie, my love, I'm stealing your Tee until the evening meal is ready." Elaine started forward. "We'll see you later." Jake grinned at Tee's bemused expression. He glanced at the trunk, sighed, and picked it up. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Connect the Dots The Fergusons proved an intimidating, overwhelming family. Tee'd spent the last two hours with Elaine and her daughter, Helen. When Jake's twin, Stephen, and his father, Kieran, joined them, her confusion increased tenfold. She studied Stephen's features, searching for differences between the men. Identical features, each line, each plane, each angle mirrored the other's, but Stephen's gestures, expressions, manner, his whole personality appeared opposite to Jake's. Gregarious, open, and relaxed in the company of others, he provided a stark contrast to his twin's stoic reserve, Jake's determined aloofness. Stephen's upbringing, raised in a loving, secure environment with others to rely on, forged his character. A born leader, he gravitated to his people and seemed to know intimate details about each individual, asking pertinent questions and inspiring shared confidences. Jake, on the other hand, had always fended for himself and could rely only on his own abilities to scrape out a future. It made him guarded, distrustful, cynical. Elaine told Tee about her special talent, the gift of the knowing, from Themis, Goddess of Justice, Prophecy, and Oaths. She explained her first touch of a creature told her of its balance of good and evil. Some people she knew past and present all at once. For others, she knew the parts they knew, 405


their surface thoughts, but memories hidden to protect injuries to the soul remained unclear to her. She spoke about Jake's gift, his visions similar to Douglas's, but limited because he was half-mortal, half-elf. Tee hid her surprise and tried to suppress the ache in her chest. It had taken courage to bare her powers to him. Why hadn't he trusted her with his secret? Would he ever let her see all of him? Elaine gave her an Elfish scroll written in a language Tee'd never seen before, although the first three phrases seemed vaguely familiar. Grateful for the distraction, she focused on the peculiar lettering. "It's the same thing that's carved on the bottom of the trunk," she said, squinting to make out the individual letters. "I know you have a gift for different tongues, sweetling. Study the scroll, and learn its secrets." "You don't know what this means?" Tee waved a hand at the scroll. "Nay, Daughter, I know not this language, but Douglas knew it was for you." "Why didn't he give it to me?" "I do not know. Douglas's sense of time is not like ours, with definite points we call dates and times. He sees and knows the world as a whole, beginning, end, and rebirth, and the repeating eternal circle. Strive as I do, he has never been able to make me see the whole. Perhaps this may help you." "Will I see you again?"

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"Aye, Daughter, many happy visits, but you must come here. I cannot visit until we find a way to overcome my curse." "You're cursed?" Tee couldn't keep a straight thought in her head. As soon as she absorbed some new, astonishing fact, another one battered and beguiled her senses. She rolled the scroll into a tight cylinder and re-tied the ribbon securing the onionskin paper. "I am restricted to this time, this land. But, enough about that, your time here is soon to end, and I learned your secret, my love, when I kissed your cheek. Promise you will bring my granddaughter to see me as soon as she can travel." "Granddaughter?" Elaine nodded. "I'm pregnant?" Tee circled her palm on her tummy, she held her breath, and her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. "Aye, life grows within your womb. My Jamie will be so pleased, but terrified too. Be patient with him, Tallulah. He is only now believing in his own talent. Instead of nurturing his gift, he denies it often. You must needs help him, Daughter. Exercise patience with my son." Enchanted, bewildered, and filled with joy, Tee couldn't prevent the silly grin that captured her lips. Visions of pink booties and tiny cotton nighties hop scotched across her pupils. A young girl offering to fill her goblet with wine interrupted her mental meandering and Tee forced her mind to the present, drinking in the extended family atmosphere of the 407


hall and the head table. She snickered as someone sang a naughty limerick, and broke into laughter as two men bantered back and forth other shouting wicked double entendres. Stephen taught her a few Gaelic phrases, and her natural linguistic abilities had her mimicking his accent and pronunciation with perfect idiom. Her brother-in-law crowed, explaining it had taken Jake a full day before he could manage the three words engraved on the bottom of the trunk without butchering them. Jake joined them on the dais minutes before servants bearing platters of food entered the hall. Tee felt his entrance before she saw him, her relief palpable. Although she'd enjoyed meeting his family, Tee missed the comforting strength of his presence. He kissed her cheek, sat, and rested his arm on the back of her chair. "What's wrong, darling?" She leaned forward to whisper the question, rewarded by warmed insides when he grinned his pleasure at the endearment. "Call me darling, and I'll give you the world. Nothing's wrong, not really." He smiled and turned around to face his father. Kieran and Jake spoke in lowered voices for over fifteen minutes. Helen drew Tee into conversation. She answered his sister's questions absently, all the while shooting concerned peeks at Jake and his father. By the end of the evening, Tee was on tenterhooks, temples throbbing, toes tapping under the table. Jake held 408


himself rigid beside her. He avoided her gaze. Whatever was wrong, it was serious. Even so, she loved the event, the harmony of friends and family celebrating. Elaine had gone all out. Much to Tee's surprise, the food proved delicious, definitely not low fat, but scrumptious, especially the suckling pig with the apple in its mouth. Her guilt about eating the animal vanished with the first mouth-watering bite. Kieran and Elaine went out of their way to welcome her. They toasted her several times throughout the meal. Stephen and Jake spent most of the time exchanging barbed, sarcastic remarks. Their contentious relationship worried Tee. Each seemed determined to outdo the other. As the servants served the last course, Kieran stood with his goblet in one hand. "My lady and I welcome our son, James Michael Ferguson, to his home." Kieran's sonorous words sang through the cavernous room. "We congratulate Jamie and his lady, Tallulah, on their decision to wed. Join us in a toast of happiness for the couple." A roar echoed through the hall. Everyone raised a goblet, mug, or container. "Jamie and Tee, we wish you long life, health, happiness, and wealth." The Ferguson Laird beamed at them and gulped from his glass. The crowd followed suit. "Will you now avow your promise to each other?" Elaine had given her the words beforehand. They faced each other. 409


She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. "I take thee, James Michael Jake Ferguson, as my husband as witnessed by his family and all in Brodick Hall." "I take you, Tallulah Margaret Inglefield, as my wife as witnessed by my family and all in Brodick Hall." Bemused, Tee's gaze met Jake's. He smiled and pressed a lingering kiss on her lips. The crowd rose and roared, "To the bride and groom!" The celebration wound down a couple of hours later. Tee followed Jake and his parents out of the hall. They gathered in one of the smaller rooms on the first floor. "When will you be back, Son?" Kieran asked Jake. "We're leaving?" "Yes, we have to go back," Jake answered. "Things have become more complex, and we may be needed to resolve everything." "Is Dad okay?" Tee's pulse pounded like thunder in her ears, drowning out their voices. She struggled to hear the words coming out of Jake's mouth. "Alex hasn't been able to reach him or Sir Arthur since yesterday evening." Jake rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. "But, no one seems to be alarmed. Don't panic, babe." He turned to face his parents. "We really should leave now. I'm sorry it's been such a brief visit." Alerted by the genuine regret in his gruff voice, Tee cut to his face and read the yearning in those charcoal eyes. He longed to belong, she realized, and had to bite her lower lip to suppress the threatening tears. 410


"Never worry about it, sweetling." Elaine tiptoed to kiss Jake's cheek and pat his jaw. "You go, quickly now. I know you'll be back." She waved a hand. "Go on, leave." Jake said quick farewells to his father and Stephen. "Tell Tiny we'll bring Alex next time." He grinned and glanced over his shoulder for one last look at his mother, father, and brother. Tee slipped her hand into his and squeezed. Jake's hooded eyes met hers, and she winced at his regretful expression, the tight line of his mouth. When they reached the fairy room, he picked up the trunk from the bedside table, heaved an audible sigh, and reached over to clutch Tee's hand. "It'll be okay, witchy woman," he promised. "Everything will work out." He flipped the latch on the trunk and tossed the lid open. Simultaneously, Tiny burst into the room, skidded on the floor, and bumped into Tee and Jake. Wobbling precariously, he threw his arms around them, straining to stay upright, using their bodies as anchors. All to no avail as they landed in a heap on the floor, their fall cushioned by a plush taupe carpet. From her vantage point on the rug, Tee noticed a gunmetal floor lamp with an opaque jade shade. The faint hum of car engines zipping by the tall windows opposite reached her ears. "Where are we?" She wriggled her legs out from under Jake. Tiny whipped his hand off her chest, his cheeks staining a deep scarlet. 411


"Tiny." The glee in Alex's voice couldn't be denied. "Welcome to my world." He turned to answer her. "You're in my condo in Knightsbridge. We're relatively safe. I took all the necessary precautions, Jake. It's been swept for microphones, and Scotland Yard pulled their watch from this building yesterday." "Am I in your time, then?" Tiny directed his question to Alex. "Oh yes." Alex rubbed his palms together. "Once we're out of this mess, it's payback time, Green Giant. Let's see how you function at a hundred and twenty miles on the Autobahn. And I'll get my partner to take you up in his jet and do stunts, like a rollover and a couple of spins." "Enough." Jake helped Tee to her feet. "Any news on Henry?" "Yes, I heard from him and Sir Arthur four hours ago. Henry's disappearance is a deliberate trap. We're in wait mode." "I didn't have to bring Tee back then. She's in danger here." Jake turned to her. "Please, for my sake, babe, let me take you back." She shook her head. "No. I can't wait around in 1501 not knowing what's going on. I'm staying." "Sir Arthur's due here any moment to brief us on the roles they expect us to play. As far as he's concerned, you two've been hiding out with an unnamed friend for the last two days." Alex strolled over to the window and peeked out. "They say it's the first time in decades such a thick fog has blanketed London. I can't see a damn thing." 412


Swirls of thick, smoky air flitted along a wall of glass framed by royal blue curtains. Tee and Jake joined Alex at the window. Tiny meandered around the apartment, picking up ornaments and accessories, examining each item without uttering a word. Halting in front of the plasma TV, the metallic, high-tech appliance incongruous against roseflowered wallpaper, he studied the blank, empty screen, his forehead creased in silent concentration. A faint, rhythmic rap sounded in the room, three long, three short, three long. Alex swung around, strode to the door, and opened it wide. Sir Arthur Flood entered. He broke into a broad smile when he spied Tee. Hands outstretched, he walked over to her side. "Tallulah, my dear, I'm so pleased to see you. You will never know how much I regret what happened and my nephew's involvement. Rest assured he'll receive the maximum punishment for his actions." Sir Arthur took her hands in his, and he pressed her fingers lightly. "It wasn't your fault," Tee murmured. "Where's my father?" "He's perfectly safe, my dear, and heavily guarded." "Where is he?" "In one of my safe houses, not the Met's," Arthur replied. "A house located near the Scottish border." "What's this trap you've set?" Jake demanded, his tone belligerent.

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"We leaked the news that Henry did business with Tony, and he's the one who knows the passcodes for the bank account, not his daughter." She sank to the couch and buried her face in her hands. "Oh God. Why did you make him do this?" Dampness filled the edges of her eyes. "Your father volunteered, my dear." Sir Arthur spoke softly. "He wanted to take all suspicion off you. It's a father's natural instinct to protect his children, especially his only daughter." Jake squeezed her shoulder. "We've made some progress," Sir Arthur said. "I spoke with Alex earlier and brought him up to date." "They only arrived moments ago, Arthur, so I haven't had time to tell them all that's happened." Alex waved a hand at his audience. "The Met requested copies of all the evidence the Colombian general gathered against Tony. They have analysts going through the information." Sir Arthur shrugged off his trench coat and draped it over one arm. He pulled a letter-sized envelope from his jacket. "We sent a team to search Tony's office and all the Inglefield residences in Trinidad, including your island home. We found this hidden in a framed photograph of Tony and you in Greenbriar." "The wedding picture on my dresser?" Sir Arthur nodded. "I almost threw it into the garbage minutes before I left for here," she muttered, astonished at how a small omission could be so vital. "Is it important?" 414


"It wouldn't be hidden if it weren't." "Mother was the one who framed that photo and put it on the dresser. I hated it." At Arthur's puzzled expression, she added, "I never set foot in Greenbriar until after Tony died. He lived there, not me. The man married me for my money, Sir Arthur. I found out afterwards. I feel nothing but revulsion for my dead husband." "In a way, my dear, it's a relief to hear you say that, as the money everyone's after is most likely from illegal activities." Jake took the envelope, opened it, and extracted a sheet of white paper. Tee peeked over his shoulder. Printed in the center of the document were a series of words, numbers, and algebraic expressions. "What's this?" "Our experts think it may be one of the passcodes. They believe the words are an ancient form of Arabic. So far we haven't been able to break the encryption." "Scotch, Arthur?" Alex took the top off a crystal decanter. At a nod from the older man, he poured a long measure of the amber liquid into a tumbler. "I know you want a shot." He inclined his head towards Tiny, who grinned at him. "Jake?" "None for me." He studied the paper. Tiny took the glass of liquor from Alex and wandered over to Jake. He scrutinized the writing on the sheet. Silence enveloped the room. Alex joined them, examining the document over Jake's shoulder. Minutes went by, the only sound in the room that of their breathing. Tiny cleared his throat. 415


All eyes turned to him. "If I may?" He held out his hand for the paper. Jake gave it to him. "Alex, a quill and a few sheets of velum." Tiny's Scottish burr took on a velvety texture. He stared at the white sheet, immersed in the puzzle on the page. Tee caught Jake and Alex exchanging surprised glances. Alex led Tiny over to a mahogany desk in the far right corner of the room. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a ballpoint pen. She followed him, and using his body to hide her actions from Sir Arthur, gave Tiny a crash course in modern writing instruments. Alex watched them, his expression puzzled. "You can do this?" he murmured. Tiny smirked. "Care to lay odds?" Alex hesitated and then shook his head. "Who is that gentleman?" Sir Arthur inquired. His cell phone rang. "Excuse me." He answered the phone, spoke into the mouthpiece, and then said, "It's your father, my dear." She hurried across the room, took the black cell phone, and moved away from the group, her whispered words the only sounds in the room. As she finished her telephone conversation, Tiny rose from the brown leather swivel chair at the desk. "'Tis is the best I could do within the time allotted," he said as he lifted one shoulder and handed Sir Arthur a sheet of paper with a few lines of neat cursive writing. "I'll work on the 416


subtleties of the language throughout the night and have complete translations ready for you on the morrow." "My word, I assume you translated it literally, hence the use of Old English." Sir Arthur's gaze wavered from the sheet to Tiny, bushy silver eyebrows arched. "Your thinking on the mathematical aspects?" "I cannot be certain, but I believe it relates to one of Master Leonardo da Vinci's engineering hypotheses developed when he worked for the Duke of Ludovico." Tiny scratched his ear. "It has been some time since I saw those. My memory is faulty, I'm afraid." "Alex, introduce me to your friend," Sir Arthur ordered. Jake, Tee, and Alex were too stunned to comply. They stood staring at Tiny, mouths agape, pupils dilated. Tiny sneered at Alex and shook his head at the others. "Since my friends appear speechless, permit me to introduce myself." He bowed. "I am Gratnach Drummond of Aberdeen." "No wonder he goes by Tiny," Alex whispered sotto voce to Jake. "Wait till I get him alone." "And how do you come by such detailed knowledge of ancient languages?" "It is something of a passion, sir. I've studied ancient prose for many years." "Your passion includes one for algebra and algorithms?" Sir Arthur's mouth twitched. "No, sir, for that I must thank Master Leonardo, a most amazing instructor." Tiny replied in a grave, reverent tone. Jake elbowed Alex. He jerked his head towards the two men engaged in earnest conversation. 417


"Right." Alex acknowledged. "Rescue him. Done." Before an astonished Sir Arthur could react to Tiny's pronouncement, Alex and Jake hustled the Yard man out of the condo. They all pounced on Tiny the minute Sir Arthur left the flat. "How do you know ancient Arabic?" Alex asked. "Did you really study with Leonardo da Vinci?" Tee demanded. "Do you think you can crack the code by morning?" Jake grabbed Tiny's arm. "Quiet, you two. You can question Tiny about his education after this is over. Tiny?" "'Tis not so difficult, Laird. I could give you the solution now, but in this dialect, a word can take on different meanings depending upon the context," Tiny answered. He walked over to the desk and sat. "There may be several interpretations. I will prepare each one for you." "Tee, Alex, out. Let's leave Tiny alone so he can concentrate." They retired to the kitchen. "Tea, Tee? What a wit I have." That delightful crooked smile appeared, and perfect white teeth glistened as Alex plugged in an electric kettle. "I have a feeling I'm going to resent Tiny even more than I already do. Blasted worst luck I've ever had." He paused at their chuckles. "Crap, there has to be something he stinks at. Go ahead, snicker, fine best friend you are, Jake. And you woman, who I previously judged as nice and kind, it's not nice to enjoy your friend's humiliation that much." 418


"You're jealous, Alex," Tee crowed. "I bet that doesn't happen often." "Don't be silly, Tallulah." Alex raised one eyebrow when she scowled at him. "Tit for tat, sweetheart. Call me jealous, and you'll be Tallulah forever." "Coffee for me." Jake sat next to her. "Turn on the TV, Alex." Alex slid the remote control along the counter. Jake pressed the power button and the theme music from Friends resonated through the narrow room. He adjusted the volume to a low murmur. Steam curled and swirled from whistling kettle, Alex pulled a black plug out of an outlet, and checked his Rolex. "The news won't be on for half an hour. Not much has happened since you were here earlier, Jake, from a media viewpoint, that is." "Who's aware the leaked news is false?" "As far as I know, us four, Tee's father, and Arthur." Alex poured boiled water into a chintz teapot. He dropped a teabag into it and slid the lid in place. Switching on the Saeco coffeemaker, he put a mug under the spout and hit a button. "I know Arthur will inform Baron Constantine as soon as he can locate him." Brown liquid burbled into a blue and green ceramic cup.. "Baron Constantine? Who's that?" "The Europol/Interpol financial expert who wanted to question Tee." "Is he missing?" 419


"No one's seen him since he gave that press conference about Tee's kidnapping." Alex handed the mug to Jake. "In his line of work, Arthur says, it's not unusual to be incommunicado for periods of time." After giving the teapot a couple of shakes, Alex dispensed the fragrant brown liquid into a teacup resting on a saucer. Tee fingered the china closer, raised the porcelain cup to her mouth and took a deep breath, savoring the pungent, comforting aroma of the Earl Grey tea. "I'm still boggled by the idea of Tiny actually studying under Leonardo da Vinci." "He had me completely fooled," Alex said, his tone littleboy morose, which Tee found endearing. "It was easier when I thought he was a dumb jock. Did you hear him say he had a passion for ancient languages? Of course, I've never been able to master anything but English." Tee pressed her lips together. Her mouth twitched at Alex's hound dog expression. She patted his arm. "I'm sure he knows nothing about the law, Alex, and remember he can't swim. Probably can't sail either." "I'd forgotten about that." Alex straightened away from his slumped position on the counter, cobalt eyes twinkling. "Thanks for reminding me." The earsplitting crack of wood splintering fractured their cozy conversation. Jake bounded to his feet and hit the ground running. Alex sprinted after him. "Stay here," he barked, throwing Tee a stern look over his shoulder. Tee set her cup into the saucer on the counter, slid off the stool, sighed, and stood, unperturbed by the loud commotion 420


coming from the living room. Probably Tiny battling with a future appliance he mistook for an enemy. Her eyes swept up to the television screen. She swayed. Black dots danced before her vision. Tee snatched at the counter and gripped the rounded edge so tightly a fingernail snapped. She jumped when Jake's hand grabbed her elbow. He dragged her backwards. Tee pivoted. She tugged at his shirt. "Jake, Jake, I just saw—" "No time now," he barked. "Two armed men broke down the door. We have to leave at once." Alex and Tiny were waiting for them in the chaotic disarray of what once was an elegant room. Tiny grabbed sheets of paper from the overturned desk. Two men lay sprawled on the floor, one bleeding from an open gash on his forehead. Alex held out her coat. Tee shrugged into it. "Where are we going?" "I've no idea," Jake said. "We'll figure it out. Right now, we need to keep moving. Do you have a weapon in this condo?" "Yes. I have it on me." Alex patted his Land's End jacket. "Arthur gave me a Beretta when I got back from you-knowwhere." "What's a Beretta?" Tiny asked. "No time to explain." "Blast it," Jake muttered, dragging one hand through his dark curls. "I don't know who to trust. Alex, is Arthur involved in this or not? Your call, do we phone him and trust we'll be safe?" 421


"Henry trusts him implicitly. He said Tee would be safe in his hands." "Okay, call him now, but we need to be on the move. Someone obviously knows where we are." Jake tugged his earlobe. "Here's the plan. Let's use the trunk to get to the airport and rent a car from there. By then, Arthur should be able to organize some sort of safe house." Before Jake opened the pirate's chest, Alex phoned Arthur Flood and told him what had happened. They agreed to all meet at the US Embassy in the city. Arthur intended to secure the visitor's apartment suite on the top floor of the building for them. Tiny hated the car. He held onto the door handle with a death grip. As they picked up speed, his normally bronzed cheeks drained of color, and his knuckles pinched white around the plastic knob. He mumbled under his breath and stared straight ahead, not answering any of their queries. He didn't even respond when Alex shook him. As soon as they were on the road, Tee spoke, "I saw the man from the plane, Jake, the man who gave the order to drug me. He was on the news. He's Baron Constantine." "What?" Jake barked. He shot her a hard stare, lips tightening into a tight line. "Damn it. What the hell are we involved in?" "What man?" Alex asked. "Tee, explain about the plane, and Alex, call Flood as soon as she's finished and tell him about Constantine." When she finished her explanation, Alex said, "This ties Inspector Flood in, Jake. He worked directly for Constantine, 422


has been on loan to Interpol from the Met for the last four years." "You're right, buddy. It does explain his involvement, but how does Constantine fit in? He's the top of the ladder for Europol and Interpol's financial fraud department." Jake and Alex's eyes met across the gear stick divide. "You what this means, don't you?" "Corruption's rampant, maybe in both organizations. Arthur's going to be pissed." Alex whipped his phone out and dialed a number. "Are you sure that Constantine is the same man from the plane?" Jake asked, meeting Tee's eyes in the rearview mirror. "I'm not likely to forget him." "Want me to stop, babe? You're as pale as a ghost." She shook her head. "I'm okay. Just get us to the safe apartment as soon as possible." Alex snapped his phone shut. "What did he have to say?" Jake asked. "He's shocked, naturally, and dismayed. If his nephew and Constantine are in cahoots, every individual in that combined task force is suspect. Arthur said the whole organization goes into lockdown mode immediately. Local police officers are waiting for us at the embassy." The conversation finally roused Tiny from his trance. "What are you saying?" he asked. It took them the whole journey to explain everything to him. As they neared their destination, Alex and Jake both cautioned Tiny about his behavior and warned him not to 423


appear too curious. They also suggested he remain quiet whenever possible. Security to enter the building proved multileveled and vigilant, first a series of metal detectors machine, a handbag check for Tee, and an armed escort to the elevator. Finally, they were ensconced in the safety of the US Embassy's visitor's suite, a three-bedroom affair with a combined diningliving room area off a separate efficiency kitchen. Henry greeted them at the door. "Tee, honey." He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. "Thank God you're safe." "How come you're here, Dad?" "With this news about Constantine, Arthur wants us all in one place so he can concentrate security." "Did you finish the translation?" Sir Arthur entered the room and went directly to Tiny. He shook his head and lifted his hand, displaying four sheets of paper. Sir Arthur clapped him on the bicep. "Get to it then, young man." He waved at an escritoire in the corner of the room. "Set up there. Let me know if there's anything you need." Tiny lowered himself into a wooden chair behind the small mahogany desk, which appeared doll-sized in comparison to his massive frame. He focused on his task, oblivious to his audience. Jake herded Henry over to the fireplace. He motioned for Tee to follow. When she joined them, he draped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. 424


"Henry, while we were away, I asked Tee to marry me. She said yes." He beamed at his future father-in-law. "Honey, is this what you want?" Her father's watery brown eyes glistened, and his voice wavered. She couldn't get a word out, too teary to manage anything but a nod. "Then, m'boy, I couldn't be happier for both of you." Henry embraced Jake. "My God, you do know what you're in for, don't you? Between Tricia and Tee, you'll be up to your knees in wedding plans. I'd make it a very short engagement if I were you." Sir Arthur joined them. "I'm pleased I was able to secure this location so quickly. The US Embassy is possibly one of the safest buildings in the city. After 9/11, it was completely overhauled and reinforced. I'm certain you'll be safe here. Do not leave the building. If you need anything from the outside, call me, or ring downstairs to the embassy. Ask for the ambassador's executive assistant. She'll handle any requests." "Do you think Constantine is the brains behind this whole operation?" "We've uncovered significant information since I last saw you, Jake. Sit, everyone. This will take some time." "I'm starving," Alex stated. "Anyone up for pizza?" "Good idea. We could all use something to eat. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night. "I have some phone calls to make," Flood said. "Why don't you order the food and freshen up while we await its arrival? 425


I'll make my calls from the kitchen so as to not disturb Gratnach." "I think a 747 could roll through the place, and Tiny wouldn't notice," Alex muttered, waving a hand in the giant's direction as he hunched over the desk, ignoring them altogether. The doorbell rang a half an hour later. Tee answered it and let in two men. Each bore several large green-and-white boxes with the words Luciano's Pizza printed across the top. Another man followed with a tray of plastic cups and a couple of paper bags. Hair still damp from his shower, Jake dug into his back pocket, took out his wallet, pulled out a couple of notes and tipped the three men, and then Tee let them out. The aromas of yeasty dough, pepperoni, tomato sauce, and oozing cheese made her stomach list. When Jake opened the boxes, the scents intensified, and her appetite vanished under a wave of queasiness. Tiny stood up. He licked his lips and moved over to stand beside her. "'Tis a strange sort of bread." "Trust me, Gratnach, you'll like it." Alex cuffed Tiny hard on the shoulder. Tiny punched him hard on the bicep. "Stop it, you two," Tee scolded. Muttering, the two men moved to opposite ends of the dining room table and snagged slices onto plates. The giant took a cautious bite of a pizza slice, and his face lit, pale brown eyebrows dancing to the ceiling. He hogged a whole pie, encircling one box with his cantaloupe-sized 426


biceps. Declaring pizza a slice of heaven, he chugged down the Coke, and pronounced it better than wine, but not near as wonderful as ale. Tee found a small salad and nibbled at it. As soon as the pizza disappeared, Tiny went back to work. Arthur walked into the living area, snapping his phone shut. "I've finished the translation," Tiny announced. Everyone gathered around him at the table. "The Arabic dialect points to an ancient poem, 'To Taher Ben Hosein,' which refers to a pair of right hands and a single dim eye." Tiny pointed to the four lines of English on the page. "Here." One thick forefinger tapped the line in question. "The poem suggests changing a hand to an eye in order to change a monster into a man." They read the words. To Taher Ben Hosein A pair of right hands and a single dim eye Must form not a man, but a monster, they cry: Change a hand to an eye, good Taher, if you can, And a monster perhaps may be chang'd to man. "And this is relevant because?" Alex lifted one eyebrow. "The algebraic formula on the paper is based on the sexagesimal system." "What's that?" Tee struggled to follow Tiny's reasoning, knuckling the side of her head where her temples throbbed. "'Tis a numeric system based on the number sixty. When I resolved the formula, this," Tiny said as he underlined a 427


series of numbers, "is the answer. Then to change a hand to an eye, I divide these numbers by two." He covered his mouth with his hand and yawned. "Why by two, Tiny?" Tee stared from the blue ink to the gentle Goliath. "A pair of right hands," Tiny elucidated. "Two." "So this is the passcode numero uno?" Alex asked. "Don't we need another and an optical ID?" "Hell, Alex I never expected we'd get the first one." Jake scrutinized the original script. "You know, while I'm no expert on Arabic, some of this script doesn't look right." "'Tis an excellent observation, Laird. Every word is scrambled. In each one, the first three symbols are early Persian Sanskrit, while the third is sourced differently for each word, all from ancient Oriental languages. I identified a combination of Kanji and Katanga dialects." "Huh? What on earth are you talking about?" "Alas, pretty boy, you need a bigger brain. Here, in the first word, the first two letters are Sanskrit or Persian Arabic. The third letter is Kanji, which is an ancient Oriental language. In this second word, the pattern is repeated, but instead of using a Kanji letter, a Katanga one is used." "And this is relevant because?" "Och, pretty boy, the man who wrote this has a sounder knowledge of ancient script than I, and I suspect the Sanskrit is not his native tongue, but mayhap the Katanga dialect." "Whoever wrote this is Oriental? Wonderful. We find one of the passcodes, and now not only do we have Afghanistan, Antigua, Uruguay, and Trinidad in the mix, we now have to 428


add the Orient." Jake slouched down in the couch and thunked the heels of his Timberlands onto the carpet. "Give me a few minutes to get this dispatched, and then I'll update you on recent events." Flood disappeared into the kitchen, and everyone else settled in the living room. "Does it all feel unreal to you?" Tee asked Jake as he pulled her closer to him on the couch. "My ordinary world's been turned upside down and inside out since the day I met Tony." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Yeah, but I got you out of it. That's all that counts." "You're turning into one romantic hunk, Jake Mathews." "When do you want to get married?" He caressed her cheek with the back of one hand, and she leaned into his warm touch. "Any possibility of eloping?" "I can see from your face you already know the answer to that one," she replied, cutting him a rueful smile. "Only daughter of the president of Trinidad and Tobago eloping? Not a chance, darling. My mother would never let me hear the end of it. Three months?" "Three months." Plaintive dismay flattened his mouth. Tee yawned, her mind going into shutdown mode. "I can't keep my eyes open a minute longer." She smiled up at him and then surveyed the others. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I'm off to bed." She left them, heading for the bedroom Jake had picked out earlier. Movements slowed by unfettered exhaustion, she shrugged off her clothes, letting them drop onto the carpet, 429


and stumbled onto the mattress. The minute her head hit the pillow, a languid torpor claimed her brain. A swell of nausea rising woke Tee. She opened her eyes and willed it away. Faint morning sunlight filtered through the curtain's undersides. Next to her, Jake's chest rose and fell evenly, and one heavy male leg lay across her thighs. Unbidden and unwanted bile swarmed up her throat. Tee swallowed, a cup of tea would settle her stomach, she decided. She edged out of bed, performed her morning ablutions, and slipped out to the kitchen. While waiting for the kettle to boil, Tee switched on the TV and watched the seven o'clock news. Jake appeared, bleary-eyed and tousled. "Are you okay?" he asked and draped an arm over Tee's shoulders. "Fine. Looks like it's going to be a nice day. Not a cloud in the sky. What did Arthur have to say last night? Anything new?" She realized she was babbling and clamped her lips together. "Some emergency came up, and he had to leave. He's due to come over today." Henry ventured into the room, tying an apron advertising Guinness Stout around his waist. "Anyone for breakfast? How about eggs sunny-side up, mushrooms, tomatoes, and toast? Kippers for you, of course, honey." Tee's stomach heaved. She covered her mouth with her hand and dashed to the bathroom, passing Alex on the way. Leaning over the bowl, she retched, but nothing came up. "Are you okay?" Alex had followed her in, and he knelt beside her. "Stupid question, of course you're not. Don't 430


worry, sweetheart. It's a normal reaction to stress. Let me get you some cold water." Tee wiped her mouth with the towel Alex gave to her. "I think it may actually be something else." She flashed him a wan smile. "A normal symptom of a normal condition." Alex wet another towel and handed it to her. "At least you don't have to worry about being pregnant." Tee stared at him, certain she hadn't heard correctly. Alex wiped the edge of her mouth with a folded triangle of Kleenex. "When Jake decided to have a vasectomy, he tried to talk me into to it too." He shuddered. "Couldn't bear the thought of the snip, snip." He made a scissoring motion with two fingers. "We all thought he was nuts." Tee leaned against the wall for support. She stared at Alex's mouth, numbed by his words. "Yeah, he was determined not to bring any unwanted children into the world." Alex pressed the damp towel on her forehead. "Didn't want to chance it." "Vasectomy?" Tee repeated the word. The ringing in her ears threatened to take her down into oblivion. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Dead Bait Jake arrived in time to hear Tee say the word and see the blood drain from her face. His palms went cold and clammy, and a band of sweat peppered his forehead. Betrayal and pain dilated her pupils, and Tee's eyes widened to fallow saucers. His gut contracted, somehow sucking all the breath out of his lungs. "Get out," he growled. Alex slithered around Jake and hovered behind him, observing the two of them. "Why?" she asked, three lines etched between her taupe eyebrows. "All that stuff about using a condom? You lied to me. You said you'd never lie to me. I'm not pregnant?" Her hand circled over her stomach. "Elaine's wrong? I don't understand." "Tee, babe, please listen." Each word stabbed his throat. "Give me a chance to explain." "Did you do it on purpose?" Tee pressed her knuckles against her mouth. "You were the one who brought up the pill—why? "Hell, I don't know. I was afraid you'd refuse to see me again. It was the first thing I latched on to. Then," he said and raked his hair as sweat dripped down his back, "then I was afraid to tell you. A vasectomy is reversible, Tee, almost always. I planned to have it done before we got married. Hell, please don't cry." 432


The lone tear sliding down one cheek undid him. He sank to the floor and reached for her. When she flinched and pulled away from his arms, he scooped her into his lap and tightened his hold on her. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry, witchy woman. Forgive me?" All the stiffness went out of her and she burst into loud, wracking sobs. She curled into a huddled ball and cried her heart out. It broke his, the ache in his chest a burning sensation. "Shssh," he crooned, rocking them back and forth in a futile attempt at comfort. "We'll adopt. Or, or try artificial insemination. We'll do whatever you want." Jake kept up a steady stream of feverish whispers, promising everything under the sun. When Tee's crying melded into quiet, defeated hiccups, dread set in. And fear. Fear that clogged his throat and held him paralyzed. Each second ticking by multiplied his anxiety, and when he felt he would explode, he braved a glance at her. She had cried herself to sleep. He didn't know what to think, what to do next. Only one certainty surfaced. He couldn't let her go. Somehow, Jake made it to their bedroom and sat against the headboard, still holding her in his lap. This was exactly what he didn't want to happen. He'd already asked Arthur, in confidence, to arrange a doctor's appointment for today. What if it couldn't be reversed? What next? Would Tee still marry him? Surely, love couldn't vanish because of this. His eyes squeezed shut, and he let the thought finish. No, love died because of deception. His lie of omission and his cowardice could cost him Tee. What had she said?—I know 433


how you tell the truth you take a grain and weave it into what you want—except in this instance, not even an atom of truth existed. Dejected, but determined to find a way to resolve the situation, he settled her under the covers, closed the curtains, and silently exited the room, shutting the door behind him. "She didn't know," Alex stated as he unfolded his long limbs from the couch in the living area. "Sorry, Jake. I thought you'd told her." "I should have," he muttered, slicing his hand through tangled curls. "I asked her to marry me, and we went through a handfasting in Brodick." "Crap. I screwed things up royally. Tell me how to help." He met Alex's concerned cobalt eyes. "I need to find out if it's as reversible as that doctor claimed. Where are the others?" "Henry's cooking breakfast. Tiny fell asleep at dawn. He watched TV all night long and seems to have developed an obsession with John Wayne westerns. Turned up the volume at every gunfight. I couldn't have slept more than twenty minutes at a time. This couch is mine tonight." Jake glowered at him. "My bad." Alex grimaced. "Back to the heart of the matter, Tee. What are you going to do, and how can I help?" "What time is it?" "Should be near nine. Hang on, and I'll check." While Alex went to find a clock, Jake called Sir Arthur and arranged to see the Yard's doctor as soon as the office opened. 434


"Hey, my Rolex was in my carry-on. I thought I'd lost it when we went to Brodick, I know I was wearing it at Tee's nanna's house." Alex slipped the prized possession onto his wrist as he entered the room. "It's almost nine." "I have an appointment with a doctor right around now. Keep an eye on Tee, will you? She's sleeping, and I don't want to wake her. Can I borrow your cell?" He held out his palm. "Mine's in the bedroom somewhere." "Sure. Here. I take it Tee said yes when you popped the question?" "Yeah, but I don't know if that still stands." "You don't see the way she looks at you. The woman's in love, Jake. It'll all work out. I'm sure of it." "Thanks. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Don't tell Henry anything, okay? No sense getting him involved until I know the details." "Sure. Good luck," Alex said and chucked him on the shoulder. "Call me the minute Tee wakes up." With those words, he left the suite, flanked by two dark suited armed guards and hurried to the Met building. The sun hung low in a powder blue sky, a golden ornament radiating a blinding brilliance. The wonderful weather only served to exacerbate his foul mood and plummet his trepidation into a powerless depression. He concentrated on the vision of Tee and him on the bed with the baby girl. The first time he'd had it was the first time he'd met her, and his visions always had a grain of truth in them, even if they were tangled and blurred. 435


A grain of truth, he stifled a groan. Over the last few days, he'd felt as if he belonged, could become part of society instead of hovering at the boundaries observing, never being invited in. Desperation crawled into his veins, the thought of losing Tee unbearable. He felt raw, grated, as if someone had dragged him over a bed of crystal shards. Two hours and umpteen embarrassing moments later, Jake shifted in his chair and waited for the doctor to finish reading the lab report on his desk. He drummed his fingers on the chair's narrow arm, anxiety growing as the second hand on the clock advanced notch by notch. Sunlight reflected through the large window behind the desk made the man's baldpate shimmer, and the sad few dark hairs clinging to his scalp held an obscene fascination for Jake. Unable to resist the temptation, he counted seven before the doctor's head swung up. "According to this report, all of your results fall in the normal range: sperm count, motility, morphology, pH, fructose levels. I find no indication of a vasectomy. We can perform other tests, an MRI, an ultrasound, or keyhole surgery and obtain a definitive confirmation, but I don't believe it's necessary." "I don't understand. I had a vasectomy when I was eighteen." "After the procedure, was your sperm count tested?" "I had a follow-up visit, and they did the normal things, blood pressure, stuff like that." 436


"Were you asked to provide an ejaculate sample at any point in time either before or after the procedure?" "No." The man shook his head. "Ethically, I cannot comment on another doctor's work without seeing your medical records. However, if a lawsuit's what you're after, off the record, I'd advise you to pursue it. In my opinion, based upon these lab results, there is no indication of you having a successful vasectomy at any point in time." "Doctor, while my memory is hazy, after all, it was sixteen years ago, I do remember being poked and prodded down there and being sore for a couple of days afterwards." "Mr. Mathews, you're free to seek a second opinion or to have further tests, but as far as I'm concerned, you can father a child just as easily as any other normal man. There is nothing wrong with you physiologically." The cell phone in Jake's pocket vibrated, but he ignored it, too stunned by the doctor's words to really absorb them. He shifted to accommodate the glare of the morning sun and concentrated on the doctor's dour face. "Unless there's something else you require?" Shock kept him glued to the chair even after the doctor stood, hand outstretched. Forcing movement, he rose and shook the man's hand. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice." Dazed, Jake left the man's office and ended up on the sidewalk in front of the building before his brain kicked in. Still operating somewhat on autopilot, he hailed a cab and gave the embassy's address. 437


Possibilities raced circles around his mind. Tee could be pregnant. Hell, he could be a father. His hammering pulse drowned traffic noises and all others. Frenetic, jumbled thoughts crammed his brain so full he felt he would implode. A father. That black-haired baby girl he'd seen in his vision. His daughter. His fogged mind didn't register the phone's ringing, but the vibration made him automatically snap it open. "Mathews." "Why the crap didn't you answer my last call? Tee's missing—gone, vanished." His heart jump-started into overdrive. "Did you try her cell?" "No answer. Just rings and rings." "Did you call from mine?" "Yes." "She's probably avoiding me. I'll call her. Did you alert Arthur?" "Yes, he had someone watching the building and is contacting them. I'll call you back. He's calling in right now." Jake punched in Tee's number, the phone rang once, and another call came in at the same time. He switched over, and Alex barked, "She's in a Boots pharmacy located around the corner. Arthur's men searched the immediate area of the building. They're watching her, and he's sending reinforcements." "I'll meet you there." He looked up and realized they were passing the blasted pharmacy. "Stop. Let me out anywhere here." 438


Jake fully intended to handcuff Tee's wrist to his the moment he found her. But how do you tie down a woman who could wish herself to any place, any time? When the London black cab screeched to a halt, he dropped a wad of notes onto the front seat and slammed out the door. He surveyed the store's windows and spotted two men wearing dark trench coats propped against the glass. "I'm Jake Mathews. Are you Flood's men?" "She's in there." One of them crooked his thumb behind him, pointing to the doorway. At that instant, Alex jogged around the corner, swerved in his direction, stopped in front of him, and bent at the waist, gulping deep breaths. "Go ahead," he panted. "I'll wait with them." Jake nodded. It was a large Boots outlet. He started at the farthest aisle and went down the length of the pharmacy. Nothing. Venturing into the depths of the store, he noticed stairs leading to a basement floor and took the steps two at a time. On the last stair, he spied Tee in the women's hygiene section. She appeared engrossed in her task. He studied her actions. From his vantage point, Jake saw she had four boxes on the floor. She surveyed each package in turn, reading the fine-print directions on the back of the packaging. He made out the letters EPT on one of the containers. A sly smile scuttled his lips into a huge grin. His hazy mind cleared, as if brilliant noon sunlight had emptied the foggy corners of his brain. They were going to have a baby. 439


Tee squinted at one of the boxes, picked it up, snagged her lower lip with her eyetooth, and sighed loudly. Every movement enthralled him, his chest swelled, and he couldn't take his eyes off her sweet face, tracing the line of one proud cheekbone, the slope of her straight nose. "Jake, what's taking you so long?" Alex's plaintive question startled him, and he swiveled to face his friend. "Shssh," he said and put a finger to his lips. Alex gazed past him, his mouth agape. "Crap!" His horrified gasp disrupted the buzzing conversation of three female consumers shopping in the immediate vicinity. Moving in unison, the three women turned and stared at the two of them. Jake spun about, following the direction of Alex's gaze. He met his dead partner's arrogant hazel eyes. Disbelief battered the physical evidence standing in front of him. For a hair's breath, no one moved, all of them gawping at Tony, and he, mouth curled in a sneer, blazing contempt at his wife. Tee's forehead wrinkled. She rose to a standing position. The box in her hand fell to the ground. "Tony?" she muttered and wavered like a sideswiped bowling pin, knees wobbling. Jake darted forward, wedging himself between Tony and Tee. "Stay behind me. Take my hand." 440


He held out a hand behind his back. "Get him, Alex!" he barked, not willing to take his eyes off Tony. "Piss," Tony said, and then whirled and disappeared. "She's fainting, Jake!" Alex shouted. He pivoted. "Blast." Tee let out a soft whimper, her eyes rolled up in her head, and she fell to the tiled floor. Jake dropped onto one knee and scooped her up in his arms. Tony had been in plain sight for no more than three or four seconds. Jake shot a glance over his shoulder. Alex had disappeared. Massive chaos ensued. Heated shouts and commands strummed through the store, punctuated by thuds, running footsteps, colliding bodies, and a stream of steady expletives. He heard the sound of glass shattering. The fire alarm went off. Shoppers stampeded the basement staircase in herded panic, shoving past Jake and Tee. Figuring Tony had run the alarm as a diversion, he decided they were safer staying put rather than risking Tee being injured or jostled by the crowd. After several long minutes, the commotion died down. Jake spied the two embassy security officials he'd met outside the drugstore at the foot of the basement steps. One of them headed his way and announced that the entire building was in lockdown. He ordered Jake to remain where he was until notified otherwise. 441


The chemist had ducked down behind his counter. His head popped up, and their gazes locked for a second before sliding to Tee. The white-coated man, hopped the counter, and ran over to them. "Set her on the floor, mate. She's very pale." Jake obeyed and leaned against the wall opposite the dispensing area. He shifted Tee into a sitting position supporting her with his left arm. The chemist waved a vial of ammonia salts under her nose. She jerked her head away and moaned. Footsteps sounded, Jake's head swiveled to the left. Alex bounded around an aisle corner and jogged in their direction and halted a mere six inches away from Jake's right. He dropped into a stooping position balancing on his heels, and asked, "How is she?" "Coming around, I think. Did you get him?" Alex shook his head. "No, they searched the whole store. He must have taken the elevator. I didn't think of that. You know what this means?" "Tee's still married," Jake said, the words forcing bile to his throat. "Crap, maybe that too. But it means we can use Tony as bait. Let Graziella, the caretaker, and Constantine go after him." "You have your moments, Alex Mayfield." He grinned at him. "Hats off to you." "Well at least you recognize genius when you see it." Alex smirked and tipped a finger in salute. 442


"Jake?" He raked her face, and let out a breath he hadn't known he'd held when he saw the color had returned to her cheeks. "Tee." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Are you okay?" "I," she said and bit her lip. "You won't believe this, but..." "You saw Tony." He finished her sentence. She nodded, her amber eyes guarded and confused. "I saw him too, so did Alex." He inclined his head towards his friend. "I thought I had finally lost it, gone off the deep end." She grimaced. "You're saner than anyone I know, my sweet witch." Her head spun, and she glared at him. "You and I have a lot of talking to do, Jake Mathews." She squinted and stared at the spot where Tony had materialized. "I don't understand. How could he be alive? Where's he been all this time? Why did he show up here?" She knuckled her temples. "Is he following me?" "All valid questions to which I have no answers at this point. Let's get back to the embassy apartment. Henry must be frantic. Also, we need to call Arthur." Four armed Yard representatives dressed in requisite dark suits escorted them back to the embassy. Before Jake could turn the key in the apartment's door, it opened, and Tee stumbled forward, butting her father in the chest. Henry hugged her close. "Honey?" "Tony's alive, Dad." 443


"Alex phoned us, honey." He shook his head. "Absurd though it may seem, I feel inclined to offer you my condolences. We finally had the sod dead and buried and out of your life." "Oh, Dad, you always know the right thing to say." Relief surged through Jake's veins at the note of laughter in her voice, and his tight shoulder muscles relaxed. "I need a stiff Scotch," Alex remarked to no one in particular, and he dumped his Land's End jacket on the sofa's ridge and made straight for Henry's stash of liquor. "Pour me one, son. Be generous." "Sure, Henry. Tiny?" Alex pulled the squat bottle out of a sideboard cabinet. "Jake?" Tiny deferred, as did Jake. The giant kept his silence and listened while studying their reactions. Jake noticed him noticing them and wondered what the man made of his last few days in the modern world. Nothing seemed to faze him. "Did you recover a body from Tony's boating accident?" Alex filled two tumblers half full. "Yes, a few days later," Henry answered. "The sharks had a go at it, though. If not for his wedding band, we wouldn't have been able to identify the body as Tony's." "So, no fingerprint or DNA ID, then?" "It didn't seem necessary." Henry shrugged. "We had no reason to suspect it was anything other than what it seemed—a boating accident. Tony and his pilot were doing a practice run for a race, about five miles off the coast. No one actually saw the accident, and by the time the coast guard spotted the fire, there wasn't much left of the boat. The fire 444


was so intense, rescue teams recovered only charred planks, scorched melted plastic, and some metal parts. A few days later, two bodies washed up on a beach farther up the coast. Tony and his driver, or so we thought." "Here," Alex said and offered a glass. "Thanks." Henry loosened his hold on Tee and stepped back. He cradled the crystal container in one hand and squeezed his daughter's shoulder with the other. "Honey, are you all right?" You look like you need a little nap. And you didn't have breakfast? Shall I make you some kippers?" She turned green, literally. Jake thought of how she'd licked her lips at the thought of fish for breakfast a short week ago. He'd lay any odds she was pregnant. "I think you're right. Maybe a little lie down and a cup of tea." She rubbed her forehead with her thumbs. Jake's hand in the small of her back started her towards the bedroom. She darted a wary glance at him, but followed his prodding. As soon as the door shut, Tee said, "I think I do really want to rest." "Do you want to do this first?" He showed her one of the boxes she'd been looking at in the drugstore. Jake held up his hand and couldn't prevent the gleeful grin that took possession of his mouth. "My sperm count is normal, Tee. I had tests done this morning. I don't know how it happened, but I am so damned grateful, we're going to have to go to church regularly from now on." 445


"Made a bargain with God?" The question seemed automatic, cheerful, but the hollow hope in her eyes pierced his very soul. "How can that be?" "I don't know. Let's just do it. The doctor said there's no reason I couldn't father a child, and you obviously had your doubts. You went to the drugstore to buy one of these, didn't you?" She nodded mutely. "And you love kippers for breakfast?" Clapping a hand over her mouth, she glowered at him, took a deep inhale and spat out a terse order, "Don't say that word again, not until I tell you it's okay." They read the instructions together, and she vanished into the bathroom. An eternity later, or so it seemed, Tee came out and bumped into him pacing a tight circle outside the door. "Five minutes, right?" He checked his watch. Tee rested the container on the bedside table and worried her lower lip, all the while casting sidelong looks at the plastic, cup-shaped object. He snagged her hand and caged it between his, chafing her cold skin, hearing the seconds thundering by. The digital readout advanced so slowly, he was tempted to shake the blasted alarm clock. At last he muttered, "Time," and gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "You do it. I can't. I'm not looking." With those words, she pressed her lids shut and cupped a hand over her eyes, immediately splaying two fingers for a peek. 446


Shifting to her other side, Jake shielded the container with his body and checked the results. Positive. Elation and primordial male pride crowed through him and he knew he wore a foolish grin because his lips couldn't close enough to form words. Whipping around, he showed her the results. She was in the same position as before, but fixated on the plastic. "I knew Elaine was right. I knew it," she whispered and met his gaze, puddles brimming from her wide, glowing eyes. "For so long, I haven't believed in my gift, in being a witch. Elaine gave me the confidence to do it. She's so secure, so certain. When she asked me to bring her grandchild to visit, I knew." "You forgive me?" Jake searched her features. "We're having a baby, darling. Right now I think I could forgive Tony." She frowned and then added, "I take that back. He's beyond forgiveness." About to haul her into his lap, he hesitated when the doorbell pealed. He arched his eyebrows. "That'll be Arthur. What do you want to do?" "Can we keep this our secret for now?" "Yeah, I think I'd prefer it. I never thought I'd have a child." Unable to resist, he nuzzled the pulse beating at the base of her neck. "You have life growing within you, Tee. A life we created. It's the most daunting thing I've ever faced." "I'll never fall asleep tonight." She kissed him on the mouth and traced the ridge of one cheekbone. "It is daunting, 447


but so wonderfully exhilarating. I think I could conqueror the world. I feel like doing cartwheels." He knew he was the one turning green now, as her equestrian acrobatics flashed through his mind. Wiser than he recognized, Jake immediately resolved to get her ob-gyn on his side before issuing commands about what Tee could or could not do with her blasted horses. "Arthur's here," Alex's voice called through the door. "We're waiting for you two." They found everyone seated in the living room. Midafternoon sunlight brightened the area, streaming good cheer through the picture window. Jake and Tee took the love seat, and he instinctively drew her as close as possible. She rested her cheek against his shoulder. "Finally. We're all on tenterhooks," Henry griped. "Arthur, do we have any new information?" "Right. Here we go. Alex, we took your relayed recommendation and leaked the news of Tony Trent being alive to our informants," he said without preamble. "Initially, we were going to do a media blast and start an international manhunt, but that would only drive him further underground and limit our chances of capturing him." "How are you looking for him?" "The usual surveillance methods, credit card watches, and Trent's photo," Arthur explained. "All agencies are on critical alert, in particular all points of departure." "Is Tee still in danger?"

448


"Yes, but not to the extent she was before, Jake. We've completed a background profile on all four individuals, Constantine, Trent, Leandro, and her stepbrother." "There is a connection, then?" Alex asked. "Yes and no. First Constantine. He's a sleeper mole who appears to have been in place for years. Quite frankly, the only organization we believe capable of such long-term planning is the old KGB." "You're kidding, right?" "No, Jake. While the Berlin Wall came down decades ago, the old Cold War spy cells weren't automatically dismantled at that time. Many old KGB operatives are now Russia's newest millionaires. These men have an extensive worldwide network, with contacts from Afghanistan to South America. When we dug into Constantine's background, we came up with more questions than answers." "Like?" "We believe he was born in a village on the Swiss-Italian border. Until the age of eight, he attended the village's school. There's no record of him after that until he showed up in California and was admitted to Berkley at the age of seventeen. A brilliant scholar with a knack for finance, he did his Master's at Harvard, his PhD at the London School of Economics, and was snatched up by Interpol right after his dissertation, which by the way, won him international accolades." "No clue as to the missing nine years?" "Nothing, no Baron Constantine in any country we've checked. We did learn, however, from his initial resume to 449


Interpol, that he spoke eight languages, including Sanskrit, Japanese, and several Oriental dialects, in addition to his native Italian." "So Tiny was right when he said the man who wrote the riddle knew ancient languages," Alex commented, casting a sideswipe at the giant. "Then, we can assume the passcode Tiny broke is Constantine's?" "Precisely, although I'm loath to think he would surrender it to Tony's possession." "I second that, Arthur. I reckon Tony stole the blasted thing." Jake tugged on his earlobe. "Finally, more answers than questions." "Still no clues as to the second passcode or the optical ID, though," Alex said and added, "But I digress, continue, please, Arthur." "Actually, Gratnach, if you're ever looking for employment, we'd snatch you up," Flood stated. "My superiors are very impressed with your work." Tiny inclined his head. "With the focus on the war in Iraq, all efforts in Afghanistan have been minimized, allowing the three major drug lords to grow their businesses exponentially. This resulted in a big problem." "Surplus cash," Alex muttered. "Nice problem to have." "Is this where Tony comes into play? "Indirectly, Jake. The drug lords activated Constantine, who in turn organized the takeover of a Uruguayan bank." Pinballs hit targets everywhere. "Tony." 450


"Yes. In Uruguay, Tony became involved in petty drug trafficking and advanced to robbery and kidnapping. Prime targets were wealthy banking families." "Ready, available cash," Alex rasped. "Heck, why I didn't I think of this before? The general's granddaughter." "Correct on both counts. The general's family owned the bank. Tony kidnapped the granddaughter. The whole transaction, from capture to ransom, lasted three weeks. During that time, Constantine made his takeover bid." "That's how he and Constantine hooked up," Jake stated. "The granddaughter." "The family refused to cede control of the bank." "But, they paid the ransom," Alex said. "That's where the 20K deposit came from." "Yes, but Constantine knuckled Tony into giving him the girl. They kept her hostage to ensure the family's cooperation." "How did Tony end up in Trinidad?" "Me," Henry said. "I knew the Uruguayan ambassador, and he mentioned him one day and his gold medals." "You can't take the blame for that, old boy." Arthur fingered his goatee. "By the time you offered him a position, his gambling debts were so large he had to get out of Uruguay in a hurry. He made a payment on the sum he owed and left." "How much did he owe?" "Close to a million. Apparently, while in Trinidad, he hit on the idea of financing his lifestyle by smuggling drugs from 451


South America, and within a few months, he managed to wipe off his debt and started to make money." "He lived at Eight Bells for the first two months," Tee said. "Mother was redoing Greenbriar, and he couldn't stay there. That's when he bought the boat." "And inveigled his old pals Graziella and her brother to Trinidad. Then he ran into the same problem as the Afghan drug lords. Cash." "Did he pick my name out of a hat?" "Actually, Jake, I think you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Apparently, you signed the deal with British Petroleum during that period, and the local media did a feature on rising stars in the industry, focusing on you." Sir Arthur tapped a copy of said article in the file laying open on the coffee table. "We found this in the caretaker's residence behind Eight Bells." "Blasted hell." "Don't beat yourself up," Alex interjected. "It wouldn't take a genius to recognize you needed cash to finance the business's expansion. And we did do the requisite background check." "Blast, Alex. I misjudged the man completely." "No, he deliberately misled you. Made sure you underestimated him. I suppose he approached Constantine and offered to launder a portion of the cash with the deliberate intention of stealing the money. Then he planned his own death." "That sums it up, young Mayfield. What we don't know is why he showed up today and what he's after. The other three 452


plainly believed Tee knew about the missing money. Now, they know Trent's alive, and we believe they'll focus their efforts on him." "Could he be after the information from the photograph?" "I find it hard to believe that he'd have only one of the passcodes. Admittedly, they're complex and difficult to commit to memory, but the only way he can get at the money is if he has both of them. No, it has to be something more." "He was after Tee," Jake said and knew it as an unassailable truth. "There's one small incident that none of this explains." Alex shoveled his hands through his hair and propped his elbows on splayed knees. "Who burgled the Trinidad office and why?" "Damned good question. Tee, did you do that inventory after I left Barbados?" "Yes, I didn't discover anything new. Almost all the paperwork was destroyed, and you know they took all the equipment." "Perhaps his colleagues were behind the theft. Maybe they were looking for the other passcode." Sir Arthurs's cell phone dinged, he glanced at the LCD, and rose to his feet. "Time for me to get back to the office. If any of you come up with anything new, call me at once." "What are our next steps?" Alex queried. "We wait for the trap to be sprung." [Back to Table of Contents]

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The Good, The Bad & The Ugly Tony Trent studied the blueprints of the US embassy apartment in London searching for the weak link; there was always one. He hated that it had come to this; killing Tee, but he had no other choice. Survival of the fittest, thinking about the old cliché made his lips flatten. "There's a two-second spread when the security guards change, boss." "I see that. They've been ordering pizza regularly from the same place." Tony studied the printout of all calls made from the landline in the embassy's apartment. He checked them against the cell lines for Alex and Jake and all the recordings his men had made of incoming calls. "This guy, Tiny, he's the one ordering the pizza." "Yeah, same order every time. Double cheese, double pepperoni, double sausage, and two liters of Coke." "Luciano's makes great pizza." This statement came from a man standing guard at the door. As if cued, the other men chimed in, and a loud discussion of pizza toppings ensued. Tony shut his eyes and tried to drown out the stupidity of the inane musings of the muscle men he'd hired. Once long ago, his friends would have rallied around him, and he wouldn't have had to buy loyalty. Once, he'd been his mother's pride and joy. For a second, he wondered what his deceased mother would think of him now, but he set the thought aside. All killers had a mother. 454


"Take out one of the delivery men. You," he said, pointing to the most intelligent of his employees, "you fill out a job app in person at this Luciano's Pizzeria. Chat up the personnel. You other two do the same. By this afternoon, I expect one of you to be delivering for that pizza joint." "Boss, won't the embassy have to vet us?" One of Constantine's guys was on the embassy payroll, Tony knew the man, and this particular mole didn't know of the rift between he and Constantine. "I'll get around that. Get out of here. Call me the minute you're hired." Who the hell was this Tiny guy who ordered the pizza? He wasn't one of Jake's employees, that much Tony knew. If Graziella hadn't betrayed him, he gritted his teeth, and for the millionth time wondered how long had she been playing him? How much did Constantine know? And the sheik? His stomach flip-flopped. The transfer of the funds from the Isle of Man made no difference now. All the money in the world couldn't save him from the wrath of Constantine or the Sheik. Damn, but he'd been insane to think he could pull this off. He'd figured Jake would be in jail by now, safe for a while, not under circumstances his former partner could ever understand, but safe. "So when do we go in boss?" By tomorrow, Tony figured, all of them stood a good chance of being dead, he scrutinized the harsh features of the London thugs so recently bought and paid for. Twenty-three, maybe a little older, and with the current odds, their mothers would be grieving tomorrow. 455


"As soon as the pizza's ordered." He spread out the blueprints. "Okay, here's the main security camera, and this is the main lobby. The receptionist is a Homeland Security employee, and the elevator's monitored. What that means is I do the talking and no one else says a word." "Mate, what about the security check?" "I am not your mate. I am your boss." Tony's temper and mood had soured. No matter what his associates and the rest of the world believed, he'd never actually killed anyone before. Witnessed murders, seen other men strangling the last breath out of another human being with their own hands, yes, but do the killing himself? Never. Tony knew the baby-faced cockney men sitting at the kitchen table had at least three deaths to their records, the mafia equivalent of made men, because he'd stipulated that requirement when he'd spread the word that he needed assassins. "And the security check won't be an issue." He'd have to take the chance that Constantine hadn't notified his man in the embassy of what had happened recently. Tony paced the flat's miniscule living/kitchen area, searching his brain for an ally and came up with nothing. He'd alienated too many people in the last few years. "I'll handle the re-routing of the calls, and I'll answer any phone call that comes in, including the pizza order. You," he said, picking out the least emotional of the group, "get three pizzas and four liters of coke. Pay cash, and wait for them. Bring them back to the flat. As soon as Tiny orders, we'll hit the road." 456


That left three of his five hired men in the room. He needed all of them gone. "Clear out all of you. Go with him and get something to eat." He threw a couple of one hundred pound notes on the table. "No liquor. Drink and you'll end up dead." As soon as they'd left and he'd scoured the flat for bugs and cameras, Tony headed for the claustrophobic, windowless bedroom, which faced Chanel Four's Main Studio. He'd chosen the place because of its location to the blasting multi-faceted studios of Britain's second largest television station, figuring any of his small communications would be dwarfed by the masses emanating from the building across the narrow alley. He opened his laptop and hit the power button. Because of the security necessary for his emails, he never used Outlook or Gmail or any regular internet service provider, but sent his missives on a direct loop using BAL or Basic Assembler Language, an outdated form of programming, which used on or off switches at the actual chip level for messaging. Leaving that trail of emails for the authorities and Jake to follow had been a bit of a lark; Tony smiled and stifled a chortle. For a nanosecond, he felt almost cheerful. Commandeering his thoughts to the issue at hand, he composed a message, which seemed innocuous on first reading, but he hoped gave a virtual picture of the dire circumstances he now faced. When he hit the send button, Tony sat back, and the sudden realization hit him; this might be the last time he communicated with the only individual who still cared about him. 457


Facing one's death, he discovered, didn't make you stronger or wiser, just greedy, greedy for more time. All in all, though, if he had to do it all over again, the only things he would change is what would happen next. Tony had to race to the toilet at the thought of killing Tee, seeing her draw her last breath. Even after he'd emptied every thing out of his stomach, the nausea didn't leave him. When he'd first started down this path, he'd been warned; one life taken in the face of saving millions didn't matter. Soon, he'd have to take four, and hope the future would prove him righteous. Somehow. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Pinball Wizards "Where's Tiny?" Tee asked. "Glued to the television set in the bedroom. He's trying to understand 'the magic tales.'" Alex mimicked quotation marks with his fingers. "He made me show him how to order pizza. The man has also discovered the Internet. Between the TV and the PC, mere mortals don't stand a chance. At any rate, the pizza's due any minute." Tee volunteered to organize plates, cutlery, and glasses. As was his wont, her father never ate any food, including pizza, with his hands, and to her surprise, Alex preferred not to as well. Jake insisted on helping. She flipped on the TV while he ferried the dishes from the kitchen to the table, refusing to let her lift anything. "Jake, the day before I left for London, I hauled fifty-pound feed bags around. I think I can carry a plate loaded with the weight of a knife and fork." She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Until you see a doctor, why not play it safe?" He stifled a groan, knowing the next nine months would see this scene repeated with more heat on both their parts. Tee shrugged, her lips curled into a mutinous sneer, and she gritted out, "I'm not an invalid." He tweaked her nose. "I love it when you're uppity. Your eyes almost cross, and they spit fire." "They do, you know," Alex said, butting into their conversation. He sauntered into the kitchen, wearing a smug 459


smirk. "Interesting book you're reading, sweetheart. So, who gave you this little treatise?" Even if the title didn't grab attention, The Perfect Blow Job's flaming red cover with an impressively sized canary banana did. Waving it a tich out of reach, he flashed that crooked smile of his, his cobalt eyes devilish and purposeful. The tips of Tee's ears burned bright pink. Rising on tiptoe, she slashed one hand at the book. Alex held it above his head. "Don't be a jackass. Give it back," Jake ordered, arms folded across his chest. "It's none of your business." "Au contraire, I find the topic enthralling and enticing. And I'd like a copy of my own. Spill it, sweetheart. Where did you get this?" "Oh my," she said and laid a palm over her heart. "Dee sent it to me. When Tony's secretary resigned, she forwarded a box with his papers. The book was in it." "Now ain't that a pickle. What did this secretary look like?" "Mrs. Doubtfire, but without the charm," Jake drawled. "Why would she have this book then? Tony wasn't humping her, was he?" "Alex," Jake warned, but a line of dread tightened around his chest, and he scanned the four-by-six hard-covered novel. "He has a point, babe. Isn't she one of those church ladies? Always going on and on about some do-gooding function?" "She's a member of a charity organization, and, yes, she's very religious. There's no way she knew this book was in her possession. She'd have burned it." 460


Flipping through the pages, Alex commented, "When did your Dee send it to you?" "It arrived the night I did, via FedEx. I read the first chapter, and there's nothing remarkable about it. I mean, except for the obvious subject matter." Every inch of Tee's skin flamed, and she avoided meeting the men's eyes. "I can't think that book is important. How could it be?" "I agree with her. I don't see how a book could be related to anything. It's a harmless bit of fluff. Give it a rest," Jake snapped and shut the dishwasher. "Toss the blasted book back where you found it. And if Henry so much as catches a glimpse of it..." "You know, it's little facts like this that can make or break a case. Don't you two watch Monk? Or CSI?" Tee rolled her eyes. "Give it up, Alex. Please put the book back where it was." He cut them both a pitying look, mouth pursing, and muttered something under his breath, but disappeared into their bedroom. "Shall we?" Jake waved a hand to the living area. They found Tiny sprawled on an overstuffed armchair, feet propped on a large square ottoman, one hand behind his head, the other firmly in control of the remote. "Do you even know what that's for?" Alex said as he stomped into the room. "'Tis called a remote, pretty boy, or a clicker by those of lesser intelligence. I believe, perchance, you form part of the ignorant masses." Tiny lifted a superior eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Alex's honed habit. 461


The two men scowled at each other. Jake chortled. "Picking up things quickly aren't we, Tiny?" "'Tis marvelous easy with your amazing tools, especially this font of information, your Lord Internet." Alex broke into loud guffaws, interrupting Tiny's weighty pronouncement. "You lout. The Internet is a system, not a person. It resides on machines." "Really?" Tiny's wheat eyebrow lifted again. "Perchance you can give me the exact location?" Flummoxed, Alex surveyed the others. "I," he snarled and then asked, "Anyone know if there is an actual location?" Jake shrugged. Tee shook her head. "Well, then, my point precisely. However, after much contemplation and perusal, I have come to the conclusion your Lord Internet's electronic library is possibly the greatest source of information and the most absurd source of trivial nonsense." At once Alex issued a torrent of reasons Tiny couldn't begin to comprehend the Internet, modern communications, or technological innovation. Tiny's response, delivered in the toddler-correcting tone of an experienced parent, fueled Alex's temper. The doorbell rang. Some snarled comment had Tiny springing to his feet and jabbing a thick finger at Alex's chest. The doorbell rang again. 462


Jake jumped between the two men as their voices escalated to barked shouts, and a slew of expletives wagered for dominance in the testosterone-tinged atmosphere. The doorbell rang once more, a long, exasperated buzz. Henry appeared, surveyed the macho face-off, and Jake, the referee, rolled his eyes, and ambled to the suite's entrance. He slipped off the door chain and cut a glance over his shoulder. "It's the pizza, honey. Can you get my wallet? It's in my bedroom." The door slammed open, propelling him into the wall. Three men rushed into the room, all wearing the uniforms of Luciano's Pizzeria. "Jake, Alex, watch out!" Green-and-white boxes clattered to the floor, their lids opening as containers flipped and spun. Grease, tomato sauce, and pie slices skittered along the hardwood flooring. The smell of garlic and dough careened around the room. A strapping man held the door away from the wall and slammed it into Henry again. He slid down the length of the doorframe, his eyes open, but dazed. Tiny's hand went to his waist, grasping for his sword. He swore lustily when he snatched at air. Jake clenched his fists, his only thought to protect Tee. He took stock of the scene playing out before him and scrutinized each actor. Alex's gaze went to his Land's End jacket, which lay on the sofa's ridged back. The last time they discussed the Beretta, Alex indicated he had it in the side pocket of said jacket. 463


Jake remembered the trunk in the zippered pouch of the ski coat spread across the top of the armchair adjacent to the fireplace. He calculated the odds of reaching it and running to get Tee; infinity to none. "Hell of a way to meet again, partner." The blood drained from Jake's extremities. He shifted his head and met the glacial hazel eyes of Tony Trent. Four other men flanked him, two on each side. Three carried machine guns, the other a handgun. Trent flicked a pistol with his thumb and forefinger, the movements deliberate, studied. "Dad, are you all right?" Tee ran over to her father and slid her arm between his back and the wall. "Let's get you to the sofa." One of the men standing by the door set a cold metal pistol at her temple. Tee stilled. She glared at Tony. "Tell him to back off." "Still the dutiful daughter, are we?" He sneered and waved his gun. "Let her be." "Why are you here?" Jake's belligerent shout worked, and Tony's attention swung to him. "You're the only ones who know I'm still alive." "Wrong, but then you were never known for your genius." "Hit him." Tony waved his black gun at the thugs. Three moved towards Jake, the other remained at Tony's side. All of them had olive complexions, dark eyes, raven hair, and defensemen builds, standing well over six feet. Two men held Jake by his arms; another one punched him once, twice, three times in the gut. 464


Tee flinched with each blow. Jake took the punches until she finished helping her father over to the sofa. As soon as Henry sat, he lashed out at the lout in front of him, twisting in the hold of the other two, and side kicking the other in the groin. The man roared in a language Jake couldn't identify and sank to his knees. He hit the floor and rolled to one side, curling into a ball, swearing like a wounded marine. The other two men recovered swiftly and grabbed Jake, each holding one arm. "Who else knows?" "We've informed the relevant authorities." Splotchy beet stains washed Tony's face, and he flipped the pistol so it pointed at Tee, stepped forward, and jammed the barrel against her temple. "I believe you have something of mine, Wife. I want it back now." "I threw out everything that belonged to you." "Ah, yes. Our wedding picture's gone missing, last time I checked. Where is it?" Tony tapped the gun against Tee's temple, and she winced. "Interpol took it," Jake said. "They found the information about the account taped to the back of the picture. They decoded it. As we speak, the account's being cleared." "And I can tell you exactly what they found. A paltry three mil. No other hooks, no other evidence. A solid dead end." "You wanted them to find that account," Alex stated. "Bingo, lawyer boy. I hear, Wife, you received a FedEx delivery a few nights ago." 465


He, Tee, and Alex exchanged swift glances, and a yawning apprehension made Jake's jaw drop. Blast, blast, blast, The Perfect Blow Job, book. "Get the book, partner. I'm counting to ten, and then I start shooting. Joints first." "I'll get it." The two men restraining Jake dropped their hold on him. He pivoted and marched into the bedroom. Spotting the book on the bedside table, Jake grabbed it and flipped pages. Chapter thirteen's pages clumped together, and a swift separation showed they consisted of a series of numbers and letters. A listing of what looked to be over fifty separate bank accounts. Tapping the book against a palm, Jake strode back into the living area. He waved the PBJ book. "Your partners know about this?" "I look like a fool? Graziella and her brother are my fall guys for the money, and all they know about is the three mil account. Constantine will wind up killing them and learn nothing, and all that money will never be found. When Constantine's bosses realize he can't find the money, they'll kill him." "The only way you'll get away with it is by killing all of us," Alex said his tone grim. "And the problem is, lawyer boy?" "You won't get away with it." Jake caught the wince in Alex's tone. "Pitiful, lawyer boy, pitiful. Get him," Tony ordered and jerked his head at the front door. 466


Surprised by this antic, Jake almost missed Tiny's awkward trip over the ottoman. The move brought him within inches of the armchair and the trunk. One thug strode forward, pointed the gun at Tiny, and waved him closer to the fireplace. The lout guarding Alex swiveled, jog-walked to the door, and opened it. A sixth thug entered, shoving Inspector Flood, gagged and tied, in front of him. Pinballs hit the jackpot and Jake stifled a groan. Tony had planned it well, wrapping up all the loose ends. Inspector Flood would be the fall guy for their murders, but he'd end up dead too. And with Graziella, Tony, and Constantine all taken out by their criminal counterparts, while there might be an investigation, it wouldn't go anywhere. Jake tried not to look at the pistol pointed against Tee's temples. Think, think, the trunk, Tiny had to get to the trunk. The odds weren't good; seven armed men against four with no weapons. Tony sauntered to stand directly in front of Jake. "Is that all?" He waved his weapon under Jake's nose. "That miniscule problem has already been resolved." "Don't be a fool, Trent," Alex sneered. "Even if you kill us, you'll never get out of the UK." A forceful backhand connected, snapping Alex's head to one side, and he stumbled, falling onto the sofa's side. Distraction. "You think those Afghan drug lords will ever give up looking for their money? They'll hunt you down like the 467


parasitic coward you are. There isn't a spot on this earth where you'll be safe." "Cut it, Mathews. You're so pathetic." "At least I can get it up with your wife." Tony's complexion darkened, and his rusty eyebrows crashed together. He stepped forward and then halted, jaw clenched, knuckles whitening around the handle of the black pistol. During those hair-on-the-neck-raising breaths, Jake tensed, ready to pounce. Behind Tony, Alex's fingers edged towards the Land's End jacket. All of the thugs focused on Tony, taut bow-string postures waiting for a command. Out of the corner of one eye, Jake caught Tiny's eyeblurring, mercurial stride to the front of the armchair. He snatched one sleeve of the ski jacket and stilled all movement when one of the thugs glanced in his direction. Everything happened in less than two inhales. Jake went for the gusto. "I took your wife's cherry, boyo. You couldn't get it up with her, and I popped it. And guess what? I didn't end up with Vikings. Do you think she'll let you kill any of us?" Tony's nostrils flared, and he thundered forward, jerking to a halt inches away from Jake. "Shouldn't have done that, partner. Now, I'll let you have the pleasure of watching me kill her." "You forget the Vikings? Tee's a witch, Tony. You're dead meat." 468


Tony backhanded him across the face using the butt of the gun, Jake twisted away at the last second, but the weapon made contact anyway. Jake fell against the wall and grinned through a split lip and the drops of blood flecking the corner of his mouth. Before he could issue another taunt, Jake caught a glimpse of Tee's tight features, and the white-hot temper that flared in those amber eyes. Now positioned behind Tony, she snatched up a rectangular crystal ashtray, leapt onto the coffee table, and hit Tony in the back of his head. She raised the glass above her head, both hands gripping the ashtray's edges edges. "Blast it, Tee," the shout erupted from Jake's lips. Alerted, Tony twisted in her direction, and the blow glanced off his temple. Alex yanked the Beretta out of the jacket's pocket. Tiny wrenched the trunk out of the ski coat's inside pouch. A shot rang out. Jake sprang to his feet. Tee leapfrogged onto Tony's back. Alex long-jumped to Tony's side. Tiny did a flying Superman dive, arms outstretched at ninety-degree angles, and everyone collided under the force of his propulsion. The combined force sent Tony crashing into the side of the sofa. His knees buckled, and he collapsed on top of Henry's legs. Tony's hired thugs joined the melee. Feet and arms tangled into a Rugby scrum. 469


Another shot rang out. The noise reverberated. The acrid smell of sulfur tickled Jake's nose, and the trunk's familiar, sooty fog inhibited his vision and corrupted all other senses. Tiny had opened the trunk. The warrior was the first to recover and he bounded to his feet, bellowing, "Laird, Stephen, lads, to me!" Fierce war cries punctuated the silence of Brodick Castle's great hall. The sound of men unsheathing their swords drowned out shouted war cries. Tee fought the arms crossed under her chest, which dragged her sideways. "It's me, Tee, Jake," he whispered in her ear. She relaxed against him. "I can't breathe. There's something squishing my chest." Jake's horror mounted as her bright, sparkling eyes dimmed, and dampness seeped through her sweater, coating his fingers. He drew his hand away and stared at the vulgar ruby stain on his palm in numb terror. "Tee," Jake shook her, oblivious to the frantic, tussling men surrounding them. He scooped her into his arms, sat up, and used his legs to lever them out of target range of the battling men. Horror and every protective instinct kicked in. He shielded Tee with his body and waited for the inevitable outcome of the battle. Even with modern guns, the thugs and Tony proved no match for sixteenth-century warriors wielding primitive claymores. 470


Thirty minutes later, Tiny and his men and Alex had the situation under control. Tony sported multiple sword wounds, most of them superficial. Five of his men were injured, two seriously. Inspector Flood received a fatal blow in the melee, and two Brodick warriors dragged his body outside. Tiny chained all the thugs together. Tony, he tied with ropes, but left him in the middle of the hall and allowed his men to prod him with their swords. Cat and mouse play. Elaine tended to Henry's bruised temple. In the center of the room, Alex and Tiny argued with Stephen and Kieran over the disposal of the prisoners. All four men gesticulated furiously. Jake stood up. Tee had passed out. He'd discovered a bullet hole just under her collarbone. He'd managed to stop the bleeding, but Tee needed immediate medical attention. Alex caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. His complexion greened when he saw the bright red splotch on Tee's sweater. "Crap. Tee's hurt." He sprinted across the room. "What happened?" "A bullet wound right under her collarbone. I need to get her to the hospital." "Use the trunk. We'll clean up this mess." Alex gripped Jake's arm and squeezed. "She'll be okay. Don't worry." "Hurry, Alex," Jake muttered. "Find the damned chest." His mother trotted over to him. Elaine stooped and her fingers flitted over the singed, round hole in Tee's sweater. "I have to get her back to my time immediately." Jake tried to keep the building panic out of his voice. 471


The trunk appeared out of nowhere in Elaine's hands. She gave it to him. "Here, Son, take it. God go with you." "What about the others?" "I'll send them back when they're ready." "Thanks." Jake took the chest, rested it on Tee's pelvis, and flipped it open. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Time Voids Hours later, Jake paced the waiting room of the University College Hospital in London. The door to the sterile, sparsely furnished waiting area creaked open, and he lifted heavy lids in the direction of the sudden noise. "Arthur." He rushed to the older man. "Jesus, it's so good to see you. When Tony said he'd taken care of you, I feared the worst." "You met up with Trent? Who shot Tallulah?" "He did." Jake massaged the back of his neck. "How did you know?" "All London hospitals are on alert for any one of you or Trent, Leandro, Constantine, and the caretaker." Sir Flood adjusted the navy arm sling hanging from his neck. "What happened to you?" "A hotline tip re Constantine's location, which turned out to be a deliberate ruse, and we fell for it." Sir Arthur grimaced. "I lost two men, but we overcame them, even though they outnumbered us two to one. Ah, Trent must have been behind the attack. I had attributed it to the other three. Where are the others now?" Stumped by his question, Jake hedged. "Look, Arthur, I'm not sure where everything stands. When I realized Tee had been shot, my whole focus was getting her here. I don't even have my cell phone with me, so I haven't a clue as to what's happening. I'm assuming they're all at the condo and everything's under control." 473


"That's why I'm here, Jake. The flat's empty. And even Henry isn't answering his cell." Deep furrows appeared on Arthur's forehead. Blast it. Jake hunted for any excuse other than the obvious; cell phones didn't exist in 1501. "I can't help you, Arthur. The last thing I remember is Henry calling an ambulance, and the attendants loading Tee onto a stretcher." The door creaked open again, and, grateful for the interruption, Jake turned in that direction. One of the surgeons who'd been operating on Tee walked through the doorway. "Mr. Mathews, I have good news." The white-coated doctor strode over to them. "Your wife is fine. The bullet didn't hit any major organs. We extracted it easily. We did discover a minor flesh wound on her right arm, where we surmise another bullet grazed her skin, but everything aside, she's well on the way to a full recovery." "Thank God." He let out a deep breath. "I'm happy to say no harm's been done to the fetus." "Fetus? Tallulah's pregnant?" Sir Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, old boy. Henry will be over the top. A grandchild, well, well." "Is she awake? When can I take her home?" He barely heard Arthur's blustery well-wishes. "We'll monitor her overnight. Provided nothing untoward occurs, we'll release her in the morning." "I'm staying with her." Jake folded his arms and glared at the doctor, daring him to contradict his statement. 474


"By all means, go ahead. Although if I were you, I'd get a good night's sleep and return in the morning. I'd like to schedule a couple of follow-up appointments. I need to take out the stitches in five days. Shall we adjourn to the nurses' station?" Distracted, Jake didn't even notice Arthur's departure. He didn't take the good doctor's advice and slept on a foldout chair in Tee's room. Halfway through the night, she whimpered in her sleep. He edged onto the bed and spooned her resting form, tucking her back loosely against his chest and pelvis. He awoke feeling musty-headed and aching all over, especially in the vicinity of his solar plexus where Tony's thugs had landed a few blows. Jake inhaled, and Tee's comforting scent cocooned his muddled thoughts. He lay on his side, one arm snagging her waist, his head next to hers on the pillow. She snuggled closer and sighed, and a peaceful smile teased her mouth. Content, he drank in Tee, tousled hair, golden complexion somewhat dimmed, dark lashes casting faint shadows on her flesh, long, straight nose, lips twitching in a smile like puppytwitch dreams. Bizarre how in the space of a few short months his life had altered, his priorities turned upside down. Tee and the baby, the sole focus of living. Protecting and cherishing them, nothing mattered more. Never could he imagine feeling anything this deeply, as if love for her had been branded into his soul. While waiting for her to awake, he calculated the quickest way to switch the business 475


headquarters to Trinidad and sifted through his employees, deciding who could operate the Boca location. She was his island siren and blossomed in the Caribbean. Taking her out of that environment, the equivalent of forcing a hibiscus to open at night when nature designed it to flare brilliantly only in the sunshine. Tee needed the easy rhythm of the island way of life to perpetually flower. The fast-paced North American lifestyle would gnaw at her like ants stripping a shrub bare. A uniformed nurse bustled into the room, disrupting the cozy, intimate atmosphere. The young, curvaceous blonde grinned at them and cleared her throat. He rose on one forearm. "The doctor's making his rounds. It might be a good idea to take a seat." The nurse inclined her head to the chair. He nodded and slid off the bed. His movements stirred Tee. Her amber eyes, a trifle dazed, opened, and she blinked. Her focus returned with each flutter. "How do you feel?" He touched a finger to Tee's bandaged shoulder. "Sore?" "A little. The baby?" "The doctor said it's fine. No damage to either the baby or you, thank God. Do you remember what happened?" She nodded. "Tony shot me. Tiny used the trunk, I think. It's pretty hazy, but we went back to Brodick, didn't we?" "Yeah." He couldn't resist pressing kisses on her uninjured shoulder. "You passed out while we were there. I brought you back and called an ambulance. The surgeons operated right 476


away, and they managed to get the bullet. The doctor said there were no internal injuries, and they expect you to fully recover." "Where's Dad and Alex and the others?" "I left them at Brodick. You were bleeding, witchy woman, and I couldn't take any chances." He twined her good hand with his. She smiled at him. "They're still there, then?" He nodded. "Not to worry, Tee. Between Tiny, Alex, and my father and brother, everything was under control." "Tony?" "Minor surface wound. Unrepentant and furious, last time I saw him." A grin curled his lips when he remembered Tiny's men prodding Tony with their swords. Until that moment, he hadn't realized how bloodthirsty a nature he had. Every drawn drop of Tony's blood satisfied a small part of his craving for revenge. "What's so funny?" "Let's put it this way. I wouldn't want to be the focus of Tiny's anger." "And Tony is?" "You bet." "Good, I hope Tiny hurts him. Hell's too good for him." A flare of anger shot her eyes more gold than brown. "Was, was Flood there? Not Arthur, but the nephew?" "You remember that, do you? Yeah, Tony planned to blame our massacre on Inspector Flood, not that he would've 477


survived." He shook his head. "I still can't get over how thoroughly he deceived all of us." "I never thought he had the brains for all of this." She edged onto her good side. "I wonder if I'll ever stop feeling like an idiot when I think about Tony." "Babe, you scared the shit right out of him with your conjuring. Now that I think about it, I'm convinced that's why he tried to get you on your own. He wanted you dead, Tee. When I mentioned the Vikings in the apartment, he went ballistic. If it weren't for that, I'm not sure we would've gained the upper hand. As it is, Alex and Tiny were brilliant. I owe them. Big time." "I froze, Jake. When I should've been using my powers to make us safe, I froze. I was so scared." The corners of her mouth turned down, and her lips trembled. "Shssh," he said and placed a finger on her mouth. "It was all psychological. He terrorized you, Tee, during your marriage. Threatened everyone you loved, and made you feel helpless. It won't happen again. You're too strong for that." "I wish I felt as confident as you do," she whispered. "I'm not sure I wouldn't turn coward if I had to face him again." "Tee, you jumped on the man. Hit him on the head with an ashtray. If he hadn't shot you, he'd be hog-tied and shaking in his boots right now." "Thanks," she murmured, and a silly grin captured her mouth. "Okay. Let me go and arrange your departure, pronto. I'll be back soon." A slight graze of their lips, and he left. 478


While he handled the paperwork and hustled nurses and clerks, the attending physician pronounced Tee well enough to leave. The wheelchair didn't please her, and she pouted all the way out. Tee succumbed to a deep sleep as soon as the cab moved into traffic, and she slumbered all the way to the embassy flat. A combination of the aftereffects of the anesthesia and exhaustion, according to the quick debriefing Jake received from the doctor on duty. He carried her to bed; she roused lightly and gave him a wan, sleepy smile. He brushed his fingers over her soft, pale cheek. "Rest, Tee. We'll talk later." While she slept, Jake made a few phone calls and e-mailed Arthur, who replied he would meet with them at noon on the following day. He fell asleep on the sofa and awoke to a dimmed living room, and the diamonds of streetlights switching on became visible through the picture window. Worry set in. He'd left the others almost two days ago, and still they hadn't returned. Resolving not to speculate, he switched on the television and flicked between the BBC and CNN. No breaking news relating to Constantine or Trent or Graziella and the caretaker. Nothing. Sifting through Arthur's summary of Constantine's background, he kept returning to the unexplained missing eight years. Where had Constantine been? Had he been in contact with his parents? What was his family background? Making a decision, he sent Arthur an e-mail with his questions and left him a voicemail to alert him to the message. 479


Padded footsteps from the bedroom reached his ears when he returned to the hallway. He opened their bedroom door and saw the rumpled sheets and heard water running. Tee had awakened. He knocked on the bathroom door. "Babe, can you manage? Do you need help? "I'm fine." Her muffled voice held a hint of annoyance. He leaned one shoulder to the doorframe, crossed his arms, settled in to wait for her, and continued his dissection. Tony had faked his own death and planned the whole scheme with meticulous detail. Odds were the premeditated getaway held the same stamp. He set his mind to being in Tony's place. What were the drawbacks? Why was his faked death necessary? Obvious answers. His criminal partners would hunt him down and kill him before they'd let him get away with theft. Dead, he got away with everything: the money, a new identity, an incredible lifestyle, untold power, and wealth. How to ensure it evolved that way? The bathroom door opened, and he straightened. Tee looked so fragile, her complexion chalky, purple shadows under her eyes, lines of exhaustion pulling her features taut. She went to lift her arm, winced, and favored her left shoulder, covering the bandaged area with one hand. "Hi, darling." "Hell, babe, don't try to be brave," he said, enfolding her gingerly in his arms. "How're you feeling?" "Bone-tired. I think I could go right back to sleep," she mumbled into his chest. 480


"You can do just that, witchy woman mine. How about a bite to eat first?" He sniffed her hair inhaling her familiar rose scent, stroking her back lithely, a whisper of a touch. "I actually am hungry." "No nausea?" Evening shadows closeted her expression. "Uh-uh. Did you change me into sweats?" She glanced at her clothing. "Yeah, I figured loose clothing while that wound heals. Do you want to go back to bed? I can rummage up something and bring it on a tray." He fingered her curls with both hands. "I want to be where you are. I have this craving to touch you, and I'm afraid one of us will disappear." She absently flicked his nipple into a tight nub. "Jake, can we get married quickly?" "Hell yeah, if that's what you really want." Knowing he shouldn't question his luck, but not wanting to pressure her into anything, he added, "What about your mother?" "I'll handle her, and yes, it's what I really, really want. How about two weeks from now?" "Are you sure you want this?" "Definitely. Deal?" "Deal," he murmured and tipped her chin with a finger. Her eyes were passion-filled drowning lagoons, and he let himself sink to the bottom, comfort washing his soul. "Name the date, but I have one condition," he said and feathered his lips from one temple to the other. "I don't want us to be separated, not for a second. Either I come to Trinidad or you come to Boca for those two weeks. Deal?" 481


"Done." She beamed. "We'll have to get married in Trinidad because of Dad's position. Do you mind?" "Hell, babe, I'll marry you here if you want." "Are you going to be this agreeable about everything?" "You bet." "Did you mean it about moving to Trinidad?" "You bet, but I think I've come up with an improvement on the plan." "Pardon me?" "Do you know I get hard when you say that," he said and kissed her, a thorough tasting, lips and tongues and rubbing and stroking. She broke away and cupped her hand over his mouth. He tongued her palm. "I get hard when you blush too, witchy woman," he mumbled against her soft skin. "Stop that. I can't think when you do that. What did you mean by improvement?" "Do you remember I inherited that land in Tobago?" "Yes, but I thought you said you'd move your headquarters to Trinidad?" "Bed first and then I'll tell you my idea." He scooped her up. Walked over to the bed, and settled her under the down comforter. Plumping the pillows on his side of the bed, he flung them against the headboard and plonked onto the mattress on his side. Hand propping his head, he said, "George Brown mentioned he'd always wanted to run a pub and a B&B in the Caribbean, and the notion isn't a bad one. Hell, he'd be a 482


great B&B manager. We could build a small, exclusive resort and give George part ownership. What do you think?" "I think I'm marrying the perfect man. You're doing this to make George's dream come true, aren't you? Don't give me that gruff look. You're a secret softie, Jake Matthews, and I, for one, am very grateful." "Don't you dare cry on me, Tallulah Inglefield." He thumbed away a lone tear sliding down her cheek. She clamped her quivering lips together, but her eyes brimmed. "Go on, tell me more." "Okay. Fine, it seems appropriate to give back. If it weren't for those blasted Grahams—Don't," he said. "No crying, remember?" She nodded, but remained mute and teary. "Callum Ferguson's land is almost twenty-one acres. I did some research on the 'net and discovered that's more than enough for a small horse farm and a B&B. I also checked out the land. It's divided by a road, half on the beach and the other half nestled against a small range of hills. We could build the B&B on the beach and a home on the hill with your stables and riding rings. What do you think?" He waited for her reaction and couldn't have been more pleased. Tee's eyebrows flew to the heavens, and her skin glowed peachy pink, making her eyes appear more brown than amber, large saucers of joy. "Are you saying we'll live in Tobago?" "I think we'd need a home in Trinidad too. I'd need to be in Port of Spain during the week for the business." 483


"We could buy a house in Trinidad and live in it while building the B&B. Construction always takes a little longer in Tobago because all of the materials have to be shipped from Trinidad. It's a wonderful idea, just perfect. I love you, Jake Mathews," Tee said, her voice exultant, and she attempted to fling her hands behind his neck, but stopped mid-action. "Damn, that burns. I guess I'll remember not to do that soon enough." "So, you approve then?" "Deal, Jake Matthews. When can we tell George?" "He may not jump at the idea. It's a big change." "I had lunch with his mother. I guarantee he'll jump at the chance. She has lung problems and needs to move to a warm climate. Did I tell you that I love you?" "Okay, you're about to cry again, aren't you? That's it. Let's get some food in you, and then we'll talk about something else." "Jake," she said, her tone questioning. "Do you think we can get married on that beach? Maybe at sunset? It'd be so romantic." He didn't speak, too choked up to manage words, but swallowed a couple of times and managed to grit out, "Sounds perfect." Her honey eyes took on a faraway glaze "We could set up chairs near the water and have a steel band playing in the background." "Shall we head to the kitchen?" "Pardon me?" "Food, remember? You need energy." 484


"I think even Tricia will agree to the location. And it's the dry season, so we don't have to worry about rain." An idiot-in-love grin possessed his mouth, and Jake listened to her ideas and fixed them ham and cheese sandwiches. She didn't seem aware of anything mundane like chewing, but wedding plans bubbled up and spilled over. By the time they finished eating, she had the whole event mapped out, and a sweet ache constricted his chest. Damn, how'd he get so lucky? Almost ready to pinch his forearm, and half-convinced the last few weeks had been the cruelest tease, a snatched hint of paradise; he flinched when the cuckoo clock against the wall clucked nine. The frenetic energy keeping Tee awake dissipated in front of his eyes, and she sank down in the chair and blinked a couple of times. "Time for bed," he ordered and scooped her up, ignoring her feeble, muffled protests. She fell asleep before he finished tucking her under the blankets, and he watched her for a while, entranced and apprehensive. First thing in the morning, he had to tell her about his visions. Almost convinced their problems had been solved, he drifted off. Tee tickled him awake. Her soft fingers slid down his rib cage. He pretended to sleep, but couldn't prevent a groan when her mouth followed the trail. His morning erection thickened under her ministrations. "I'm supposed to begin here," she whispered, and her hot breath cocooned one testicle. She licked, tracing her tongue 485


over every inch. "Did you know eighty percent of taste, according to the PBJ book, is smell?" "Are you sure you're up to this?" His hips arched off the mattress of their own accord, and the last word came out on a gasp. "You certainly are." She blew on his wet testicle, and it tightened. "Damn, I'm so close, and you haven't even sucked my cock yet." Tee's enormous brown eyes peeked at him, and the sight of her there, head between his thighs, breasts pushed together around his bollocks, mouth inches away from his crown, almost did him in. "Uh-uh," she said and shook her head. "Not yet. I'm supposed to do this when you get too close." She squeezed his glans, and his head sank back into the pillow. "Ouch," she yelped. He shot onto his forearms. "What's wrong?" "Nothing." But pain etched her features. "You hurt your shoulder." He scooted down the bed and lifted her onto his lap. "It's bleeding. Until the stitches come out, no more fooling around, deal?" "But, Jake—" "No, no buts. I want you healed for our wedding. Let's clean this up." He stalked into the bathroom, set her down on the toilet lid, and rummaged in the cabinets under the sink. "Elaine told you about my visions, didn't she?" 486


"Pardon me?" He moistened a cotton ball with peroxide. "This may sting a little. The night I first met you, I had one. It was so clear, but I discounted it because of the vasectomy." Un-taping one Band-Aid from her shoulder blade, he patted away the red staining her skin and glanced up when her breathing stilled. "Go on," she whispered, pupils dilated so wide the amber formed a thin halo rimming dark pupils. Focusing on the tight line of black stitches, he dripped a trickle of peroxide down it. She winced. "I'd never had visions about me. Up until then it was always other people and events." Jake wasn't sure why telling her was such a big thing, but it was—his last secret. "You bowled me over. That first night, I couldn't sleep, laid in bed struggling to think of something other than you. Nothing worked. Around four, I gave up and poured myself a stiff Scotch, and after a couple of drinks managed to fall asleep. I woke up to a vivid image playing in my mind. You and me lounging on a large bed with a little baby girl between us kicking her chubby legs in the air, like if she's riding a bicycle, and she coos." His eyelids flickered up and he found Tee's rapt face inches from his. The amber halos of her eyes flashed like fireflies winking on a dark night. Jake kissed the tip of her nose. "You are the first woman to ever star in my visions, and a baby, that had never happened before. It stunned and confused me." 487


"A girl?" she breathed. "Elaine said bring my granddaughter to see me when she's able to travel." She captured his free hand and drew it to her stomach. "Here. Our daughter's here, growing inside of me." She sniffed and her voice wavered. "You've made all my dreams come true, darling." "You are my dreams, Tee. The one temptation I couldn't resist." "Temptation," she whispered. "Thank God for it." Loud, quarreling male voices broke the peaceful moment. "They're back." She flashed him a wan smile. "Yeah. You can go back to sleep if you want. I'll deal with them." "No way. I want to hear what happened." "Time to dress, then." Someone battered the door. They moved to the bedroom and began gathering clothes. "Jake, Tee, are you guys awake?" "If we weren't before, we are now, Alex," he replied, pulling on jeans. Spotting Tee struggling to button a shirt, he took over the task, batting away her fingers. "What about the vasectomy, Jake? Do you think it was a botched job?" "Haven't a clue. Scotland Yard's doctor suggested I contact the doctor who performed the procedure." He dropped a kiss on her temple. "Do you realize that it must have happened that very first time in Trinidad?" 488


"The raft." Her lips curved. "Maybe we could honeymoon down the islands? What do you think?" "Works for me." "Will you contact him, this doctor?" The change of subject dizzied him for a moment, and, belatedly, he grasped they were back to the vasectomy. "I should, I suppose. Although it doesn't seem to matter anymore." Her forehead puckered. "Who was it?" "Someone Father Murphy, the man who ran the orphanage, recommended. He was both a priest and a doctor. I think his name was Father O'Reilly." "You know, I find it hard to believe a Catholic Priest would agree to perform a vasectomy. The church prohibits any form of birth control, and technically that's one. Isn't it?" "Yes, but Murphy knew I would do it anyway, and he figured it was better to go with someone he trusted." He stroked his stubbled chin. "I remember being pleasantly surprised I wasn't that sore. I wonder..." His voice trailed off. Rain pattered the window opposite, the wind driving moisture in sheets at a forty-five degree angle. The sky was a solid gray, charcoal edges rimming the dingy buildings lining the horizon. "You think it was a fake procedure?" She cocked her head to one side. "They couldn't do that, though. It would be irresponsible. What if you got someone pregnant? After all, you didn't need to use birth control." He chuckled. "Father Murphy and the rest of the brothers were paranoid about AIDS, and as soon as we entered 489


puberty, we had to sign a written contract promising to practice safe sex. While he preached abstinence, he was ultimately a practical man and knew we'd succumb to the pleasures of the flesh, as he so often said." "You never used a condom with me." "First time ever, it must have been a subconscious desire." "Or the inability to resist another temptation," she said, crinkling her nose. "I think you have your answer, darling. That doctor went through the motions." "I'll phone Father Murphy when things settle down. I need to know for the future. That pack of kids you want." A cacophony of noise erupted, and he glanced at the door. "Time to face reality," she murmured. Everyone pounced on them as soon as they entered the living room. Henry kissed his daughter, a question in his eyes. "I'm okay, Dad, honest." She assured him. Jake made her sit on the sofa and covered her legs with a blanket. Tiny handed him a glass of Scotch. "I didn't expect you back. Why are we drinking hard liquor at eleven o'clock in the morning?" "We're celebrating our victory, Laird." "Really? Tell us what happened. Where are Tony and his henchmen?" Tee demanded. "How come it took you so long?" Alex's complexion pinkened, and Tiny looked away, and neither man seemed inclined to speak. Finally, Henry broke the taut silence. "Elaine, delightful woman, your mother by the way, sent us back with another 490


magical chest." He glared at Tiny. "Unfortunately, when Gratnach opened it, Tony squirmed out of his grasp and threw himself on us." "If pretty boy hadn't closed it," Tiny protested and shot Alex a venomous cut. "How was I supposed to know that was a no-no? And don't forget, you're the one who made the mistake by opening it again, too late." Alex clamped his lips together and folded his arms. "From what your mother can determine"—Henry took up the tale—"in between the openings and closings, according to Elaine, Tony's stuck in what she calls a time void, hovering between this century and 1501." "A time void?" A frown furrowed Tee's forehead. "'Tis much like a space between two walls with no entrance or exit." "So he's stuck there forever?" Tee asked, her voice breathless, tone hopeful. "Aye." "You're absolutely positive?"Jake asked. "Your mother is," Alex replied. "Hell, what a perfect resolution. I've spent the last two days trying to come up with a plausible explanation for everything, but I knew Tony would ruin it, and we'd all look like looneys." Jake tugged his earlobe. "We still have to come up with something to tell Arthur," Henry said. "The man's no fool. I know him well, m'boy."

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"Is that all?" Alex waved a hand. "Not to worry, there's a lawyer in this little group. We're experts at weaving plausible lies." "Lead on, Macduff." Tiny invited. "Macduff?" Alex's deep baritone emerged as a growl. "How in damnation do you know about Shakespeare?" "Mayhap I didn't mention it. I apprenticed with Master William for a few years." "Don't," Jake barked and splayed his fingers. "Don't get into that. Neither of you. Save it for another time. Arthur's due here in less than fifteen minutes. Where are Tony's thugs?" "Your brother, Stephen, offered them to the Ramsays. They accepted. Have you spoken with Arthur?" For the millionth time, Jake wondered if anything fazed Alex. "Yeah, he came to the hospital, but the surgeon interrupted us before he could start drilling me. All I said was that Tony had shot Tee and Henry called the ambulance." "Heck, you're making this too easy. Tony delivered the pizza, he held us up, there was a scuffle. He shot Tee, and in the confusion, he escaped. How's that?" "A trifle simplistic, perhaps." "Henry, trust me, the best lies are simple. Throw in curves, and someone will trip you up." "Alex is right, but we'll let him tell the story since deception is his admitted area of expertise," Jake said. "It sounds as if you planned to come back, Tiny. Is that true, or was it an accident like the last time?" 492


"Nay lass, not an accident. Lady Ferguson wants a firsthand account of your marriage ceremony. And I'm instructed to learn as much as I can about your time." Tiny scratched his ear. "But, I'm not to expose myself to anyone else, only those who have already seen me." "Why?" Tee slipped her hand into Jake's. "And how are you going to see the wedding if no one else can see you?" "I'm to use the chest to travel," he replied. "You and Jamie—Jake—are to give me a hidden position where I can observe everything." Tee looked daunted, and she turned to him. "Can you think of anything?" "Let's get to that later. I'm sure we can arrange it." He checked his watch. "Arthur should be here any minute." As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Henry murmured, "I'll get it." The two older men exchanged pleasantries at the door. After refreshing everyone's drink, Henry took a seat adjacent to Arthur on the couch. Sir Arthur requested a summary of their adventures. Alex spoke, "I'll tell the tale, gentlemen." After he finished the succinct, but most convincing summary of events, Alex took a lawyer's tact. "What about your investigation? Any news?" "We seem to have met the proverbial wall. Wherever Leandro, the caretaker, and Constantine are, they're not using credit of any kind. No attempts to obtain any of the money in their bank accounts. For the last twenty-four hours, we haven't had a single valid tip on the hotline. And unless 493


something turns up soon, we'll have to shut it down. Budgets and that sort of thing." "What about the information I requested?" Jake queried. "Ah, the e-mail yesterday." Sir Arthur sipped his Scotch and then answered. "Not an area we haven't explored since Constantine's exposure as a mole. Research cannot confirm Constantine's missing years. From the time he was eight until after he turned seventeen, there are no records on file. His father is a Swiss citizen, his mother German, but they lived in Italy, and that was his first language. There is no pre-war information on either parent, and records only appear on them around late 1947." "I can't imagine any mother allowing her son to be separated from her at such a young age," Tee said. "Unless he went to a boarding school?" "We attempted to check his admission records at UCLA. They're missing, and there's no record he graduated from any secondary school. We did manage to obtain a record of him sitting the SAT around that time, but that's about it. From his entry into UCLA, we have piecemeal information on file, but there are several periods before he was employed by Interpol where he seems to have gone into hibernation." "So nothing conclusive." Arthur shook his head. "I'm afraid not." "How does this impact Tee's safety?" Jake asked. "She's seen him." "The man we know as Constantine has been in the public eye for many years, a great many people can identify him. I see no reason Tallulah is in any danger," Arthur answered. 494


"What about Graziella and the caretaker?" "As far as we can determine, after Trent's purported death, someone tapped all of his electronic information. No clues on the source. It could be Leandro or her stepbrother, but it happened almost immediately, as if someone expected his death." Arthur glanced at his watch. "In my opinion, you have nothing to worry about from that section. I predict the Uruguayan connection will lose interest in all of you. We'll keep an eye on everyone for the coming month." "My new position comes with 24/7 bodyguards and strict security for me and my immediate family. Between the Met and Trinidad security, I'm confident you'll be fine, Daughter," Henry stated. "Do you have any idea of how much longer you'll be remaining in the UK?" "Actually, Arthur, I'm returning to Trinidad tomorrow on the evening flight. There are many details to be settled before my investiture as president." Henry grinned. "You will, of course, be receiving an invitation to the event." "Dad, when is the ceremony due to take place?" "On the last Friday of next month." "Well, if there's nothing else pressing, I'll take my leave." Arthur rose to his feet. "We can't thank you enough for your support and your help, Arthur," Henry said as he stood. "I could never repay you for all you've done." "Actually, old boy, the wife and I have always wanted to see your Trinidad Carnival." The man's cheeks reddened. 495


"Consider it done and from the president's viewing stand, no less. We'll plan it when you come for the investiture." Everyone murmured their gratitude and goodbyes, and Henry saw Sir Flood out the door. While everyone was busy, Jake touched Tee's cheek and asked, "Are we going to tell them?" "About the baby or the wedding?" "We have to tell them about the wedding," he replied. "If it's going to happen in two weeks. That's one month before your father's investiture. Will you have enough time?" "The only thing Dad and Tricia have to do for the investiture is show up. Everything's planned by government officials." She grinned. "Tricia will relish something she can control, believe me. It annoys her to no end to that she's uninvolved in the whole thing." "What are you two whispering about?" Henry sat opposite them and picked up his glass of Scotch. "We're hoping to get married in two weeks, if that's okay with you," Jake explained. "Tiny will have to return to his time, and it will be difficult to keep his presence a secret for a long period." "What bull," Alex interjected. "You can't stand the thought of being away from Tee." "I won't be," he said smugly. "She's coming back with me to Boca to help me arrange moving Trent and Mathews' headquarters to Trinidad. I figure two days and then we head to T 'n' T."

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"You sound like a native already, m'boy." Henry spoke jovially, his brown eyes glistening and radiating joy. "Welcome to the family." [Back to Table of Contents]

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A Pink-Ribboned Stallion Two weeks later; Callum Ferguson's Land in Tobago From his vantage point on the rocky cliffs, Tiny used the modern tool, binoculars they called them, to observe the ceremony taking place on the beach below. The last two weeks had been a window on this modern world, and he was still uncertain the changes over the centuries benefited mankind. It certainly proved disastrous for Mother Earth. New concepts danced through his brain: global warming, mass transit, grocery stores, Kellog's Frosted Flakes, and Tony the Tiger. He focused the lens on Alex and Dee as they waited for the wedding song to begin. Quarreling as usual. The heat between those two could power skyscrapers, buildings he wasn't certain he approved of. A small steel band played a lilting version of King Harvest's "Dancing in the Moonlight," and the music wafted upwards, casting a hypnotic spell over the wedding guests basking in the sultry Caribbean evening. The soft, tropical trade winds whispered across the bay, cooling the sun's warm rays. And the bride wore a long, flowing, ivory, sleeveless silk gown brushed with hints of tawny gold. Her curly, bronzed hair flirted with the gentle sea breezes. The setting sun hung like a glowing ball above the blue horizon of the Caribbean Sea line. It cast a radiant luster over the secluded bay, highlighting the center of the sandy cove. 498


And the groom wore white. His linen shirt hung loose over his trousers. It fluttered in the wind. His black curls grew damp from the faint sea spray misting off the foamy turquoise waves lapping the powder-fine, brilliant, white beach fringe. The bride's bare toes slid over the cool, damp sand as she glided to her groom. Her father whispered words of pride and joy on the seemingly interminable walk to her mate. The groom tapped his bare foot against the coarse sand and shifted from one foot to the other. His best man clamped a hand around his bicep to still his movements. A soft neigh drew everyone's attention. Brandy stamped his disapproval of the pink ribbons weaved liberally in and out of his coarse black mane, the feminine touch incongruous on such a powerful stallion. If a horse could look embarrassed, this one did. Something brushed the back of the groom's neck, and he flicked a finger against the skin there. Another feather touch tickled his right cheek, and he swiped a hand at the spot, capturing something in the center of his palm. His lips curved into a foolish grin. It was raining rose petals. THE END WWW.JIANNECARLO.COM [Back to Table of Contents]

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About the Author Jianne Carlo knows multi-cultural romance. Born to an Indian father and a Hispanic mother intent on becoming a nun, she met and married her Dutch-bred immigrant husband in her last year at college. Their children check off the majority of the boxes under the category, Ethnic Origin. Add to this the fact Jianne grew up on a sixty by forty Caribbean island where the population mixture represents the world's religious, cultural, and ethnic diversity (and some mixtures no one's dreamed up) and you have a multi-cultural woman who believes the word, 'Mutt' represents the best of human nature. For the factually inclined, Jianne has a Bachelor's Degree in English and Sociology, and a Master's in Management Science with three areas of concentration, Computers, Finance, and Statistics. She's lived and worked in Canada (Ontario, Vancouver), the United States (San Francisco, various small cities in southern California, Miami, and Parkland) and the Caribbean (Trinidad and Tobago, Jamaica, Barbados, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, Tortola) and South America (Guyana). Her passions in life center around her proudest achievements, a happy marriage (measure of happiness varies with level of irritation), and three grown sons of the finest caliber who she's proud to call friends, although they're never allowed to forget the mom factor. 500


Other areas of interest include, travelling, meeting new people, reading, dressage, all animals, cooking eclectic food, eating said food, and sipping good wine, while hanging out, ('liming' in Trini-speak) with friends. Jianne's proud to announce the only carbonated beverage she drinks is champagne. Who needs Coke? And you never want to be in the same room if she picks up a dart and aims for the target. Run for your life. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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T is for Temptation

T is for trespass

Temptation is the Night

Temptation is the Night

Recipe for Temptation

Season for Temptation

Recipe for Temptation

Season for Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

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''T''

T-37;T-38;T-40

T is for Temptation

T is for trespass

Temptation is the Night

Temptation is the Night

Recipe for Temptation

Season for Temptation

Recipe for Temptation

Season for Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

Temptation

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