Twelve Nights of Temptation

by Barbara Dunlop

  “Not everyone has the combination,” Tasha answered. “Not everyone needs it.”

  “I don’t hand it out to the new hires,” Matt said.

  Tasha knew the footage narrowed the list of suspects—at least of possible staff members as suspects.

  “A little to the left,” Jules said on a moan.

  Caleb smiled down at his wife.

  Matt’s hand tightened around Tasha’s shoulder.

  Arousal washed through her with the force of a riptide.

  She ordered herself to concentrate. She refocused on the screen, desperately hoping something would happen on the pier to distract her from his touch.

  * * *

  Matt was happy to speak at the chamber of commerce’s annual Christmas gala. He knew the chamber did important work. He’d benefited from its programs in the past. Without its loan guarantees, he never could have purchased Whiskey Bay Marina, never mind grown it to the size it was today, or recovered from the financial hit of his divorce for that matter.

  He’d started life out in South Boston. There, his father ran a small residential construction company, while his mother did home care for the elderly. His parents had raised six children. Matt was the youngest and easily the most ambitious. His older siblings all still lived in the South Boston area, most working for his father, all raising families of their own.

  They seemed content with barbecues and baseball games. But Matt had wanted more. He’d always wanted more out of life. He’d worked construction long enough to put himself through college and set aside a nest egg. Then he’d bought a few fixer-upper houses, sold them for a profit and finally ended up on the West Coast taking what was probably a ridiculous risk on the Whiskey Bay Marina. But it had turned out well.

  It seemed people found it an inspiring story.

  Finished with his cuff links and his bow tie, he shrugged into his tux jacket. It was custom fitted and made him feel good, confident, like he’d arrived. It was a self-indulgent moment, dressing in an expensive suit for a fine dinner. And he’d admit to enjoying it.

  Tonight he had an additional mission. The owners of the three other marinas in the area would be at the gala. A competitor would have a motive for sabotage. Matt had never trusted Stuart Moorlag. He seemed secretive, and Matt had heard stories of him cutting corners on maintenance and overbilling clients. He could have financial troubles.

  There was a knock on the front door, and Matt made his way past the living room to the entry hall. He’d ordered a car for the evening to keep from having to drive home after the party.

  But it wasn’t the driver standing on his porch. It was Tasha.

  “We have a problem,” she said without preamble, walking into the entry hall.

  “Okay.”

  Then she stopped and looked him up and down. “Wow.”

  “It’s the gala tonight,” he said.

  “Still. Wow.”

  “Is wow a good thing?”

  “You look pretentious.”

  “So, not good.” He told himself he wasn’t disappointed.

  He’d have been surprised if she had liked him in a tux. He wished she did. But wishing didn’t seem to help him when it came to Tasha.

  “Good if pretentious was your goal.”

  “Well, that was a dig.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. What I meant was, you’ll impress all the people at what I’m guessing is a very fancy event tonight.”

  “Thanks. I think.” It wasn’t quite an insult anymore, but it wasn’t quite a compliment either. He decided to move on.

  He gave a glance to his watch. He had a few minutes, but not long. “What’s the problem?”

  “The sabotage is escalating.”

  That got his instant and full attention. Tasha definitely wasn’t one to exaggerate.

  “How?” he asked.

  “I found a peeled wire in the electric system of Salty Sea. It seemed suspicious, so I checked further and found a fuel leak.”

  He didn’t understand the significance. “And?”

  “Together, they would likely have started a fire.”

  “Are you kidding me?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “I wish I was.”

  “People could have been hurt?”

  A fire on a boat was incredibly serious, especially in December. If they had to jump into the water, hypothermia was the likely result.

  “Badly,” she said.

  He didn’t want to leave her to attend the gala. He wanted to explore what she’d found, talk this out. He wanted to plan their next move.

  “I have to go to the gala,” he said, thinking maybe they could meet later. “I’m speaking at it. And the other marina owners will be there. I was going to use it as an excuse to feel them out.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I want to come.”

  The statement took him completely by surprise. He couldn’t help but take in her outfit of cargo pants, jersey top and a work jacket.

  “Not like this,” she said, frowning at him.

  “Do you have something to wear?”

  Her hands went to her hips, shoulders squaring. “You don’t think I can clean up, right?”

  Registering the determination in her expression—although he had his doubts—he wasn’t about to argue that particular point. He looked at his watch again. “I don’t have a lot of time. My car will be here in a few minutes.”

  Her lips pursed in obvious thought. “I don’t have a ball gown in my room. But did Dianne leave anything behind? A dress or something?”

  “You want to wear my ex-wife’s clothes?” Matt was no expert, but that didn’t sound like something an ordinary woman would volunteer to do.

  “What’ve you got?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “You don’t think I look serious?” she asked.

  “You look very serious.”

  “So?”

  He gave up, even though he had major reservations about how this was going to turn out. “There are some things left in the basement. This way.” He led her around the corner to the basement stairs.

  He flipped the switch as they started down. “She was a shopaholic. Didn’t even bother to take all of it with her. Some of the stuff has probably never been worn.”

  They went past the pool table and entered a cluttered storage room. The dresses were in plastic film, hanging on a rack, jackets and slacks beside them, shoes in boxes beneath. “I hadn’t had the time to get rid of it yet.”

  “I’ll be quick,” Tasha said, marching up to the rack and searching her way through.

  After a few minutes, she chose something red with sparkles.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “You don’t think I can pull off red?”

  “It’s very bold.”

  “Trust me. I want them to notice.” She hunted through the shoe boxes. “I don’t suppose you know what size shoe your ex wore?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Tasha held up a black pump, turning it to various angles. Then she straightened, stripped off her boot and fuzzy sock and wiggled her foot into it.

  “It’ll do,” she said.

  “Seriously? Just like that?” He’d seen Dianne spend two hours choosing an outfit.

  “You said you were in a hurry.” Tasha brushed by him.

  “Yes, but...”

  “Then, let’s do this.”

  He followed behind, shutting off the lights as they went. “You’re a strange woman.”

  “If by strange, you mean efficient, then thank you.”

  By strange, he meant unique. She was like nobody he’d ever met. Not that it was a bad thing. It was a good thing. At the very least, it was an entertain
ing thing.

  “Yes,” he said. “I meant efficient.”

  “Can I borrow your bathroom?”

  “Be my guest.”

  There was another knock on the front door. This time it was sure to be the driver.

  “I have to speak at eight,” he called to Tasha’s back as she scooted down the hall, clothes bundled in her arms, wearing one work boot and one bare foot.

  She waved away his warning, and he turned to answer the door.

  Ten minutes later, or maybe it was only five, she emerged from the hallway looking ravishing.

  Matt blinked, thinking it had to be an optical illusion. No woman could go from regular Tasha to this screaming ten of a bombshell in five minutes. It wasn’t possible.

  Her hair was swooped in a wispy updo. The straps of the dress clung to her slim, creamy shoulders. It sparkled with rhinestones as she walked, the full red skirt swishing above her knees. Her green eyes sparkled, the dark lashes framing their beauty. Her lips were deep red, her cheeks flushed, and her limbs were long, toned and graceful.

  He couldn’t speak.

  “Will I do?” she asked, giving him a graceful twirl. Her tone was softer than normal, her words slower and more measured.

  He opened his mouth. “Uh...”

  “Don’t get all fussy on me, Matt. It was a rush job.”

  “You look terrific.”

  She glanced down at herself. “Good enough.”

  “No, not just good enough. Jaw dropping. How did you do that?” How had this gorgeous, feminine creature stayed hidden beneath the baggy clothes and grease all this time?

  “I took off my other clothes and put these ones on.”

  There was more to it than that. “Your hair?”

  “Takes about thirty seconds. Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready.” He was more than ready. He was so ready to go on a date with Tasha.

  Okay, so they were investigating more than they were dating. And the new information she’d just brought him was unsettling. They’d have to talk more about that in the car.

  But she was more ravishingly beautiful than he could have possibly imagined, and she was his partner for the gala. He felt fantastic, far better than he had merely putting on the fine tux, maybe better than he’d felt in his whole life.

  * * *

  At the ballroom in downtown Olympia, Tasha felt like she was stepping into her own past. She’d been to this party dozens of times, the chamber orchestra, the high-end hors d’oeuvres, the glittering women and stiffly dressed men. And, in this case, the rich Christmas decorations, floral arrangements, garlands of holly and evergreen, thousands of white lights, swirls of spun-glass snow and a huge Christmas tree on the back wall, covered in oversize blue and white ornaments and twinkling lights.

  “You going to be okay in all this?” Matt asked as they walked through the grand entry.

  “I’ll be fine.” She could do this in her sleep.

  “We’ll have to sit down near the front. They want me close by for my presentation.”

  “No problem.” She was used to her parents being VIPs at events in Boston. From the time she was seven or eight, she’d learned to sit still through interminable speeches and to respond politely to small talk from her parents’ friends and business connections. “Shall we mingle our way down?”

  He looked surprised by the suggestion. “Sure.”

  “Can you point out the other marina owners?”

  They began walking as Matt gazed around the room.

  “Hello there, Matt.” A fiftysomething man approached, clasping Matt’s hand in a hearty shake.

  “Hugh,” Matt responded. “Good to see you again.” He immediately turned to Tasha. “This is Tasha Lowell. Tasha, Hugh Mercer owns Mercer Manufacturing, headquartered here in Olympia.”

  Tasha offered her hand and gave Hugh Mercer a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” She quickly moved her attention on to the woman standing next to Hugh.

  Hugh cleared his throat. “This is my wife, Rebecca.”

  “Hello, Rebecca,” Tasha said, moving close to the woman, half turning away from Hugh and Matt. If she’d learned anything over the years, it was to keep her attention firmly off any man, no matter his age, who had a date by his side. “I love that necklace,” she said to Rebecca. “A Nischelle?”

  Rebecca returned Tasha’s smile. “Why, yes. A gift from Hugh for our anniversary.”

  “How many years?” Tasha asked.

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Congratulations on that. Was it a winter wedding?”

  “Spring,” Rebecca said. “We were married in New York. My parents lived there at the time.”

  “I love New York in the spring.” Tasha put some enthusiasm in her voice. “Tell me it was a grand affair.”

  “We held it at Blair Club in the Hamptons.”

  “Were the cherry blossoms out?” Tasha had been to the Blair Club on a number of occasions. Their gardens were legendary.

  “They were.”

  “It sounds like a dream.” Tasha looped her arm through Matt’s, taking advantage of a brief lull in the men’s conversation. “Darling, I’m really looking forward to some champagne.”

  He covered her hand. “Of course. Nice to see you, Hugh. Rebecca, you look fantastic.”

  “Enjoy the party,” Hugh said.

  Tasha gave a cheery little wave as they moved away.

  “What was that?” Matt whispered in her ear. “Cherry blossoms? You made it sound like you’d been there.”

  She didn’t want to reveal her past to Matt. She wanted it kept firmly there—in the past.

  “Cherry blossoms seemed like a safe bet in the spring. You don’t mind my pulling us away from the Mercers, do you? They’re not our target.”

  Too late, it occurred to her that Matt might have some kind of reason for chatting Hugh up. She hoped she hadn’t spoiled his plans.

  “You were right. They’re not our targets.” He put a hand on the small of her back. “There. Two o’clock. The man with the burgundy patterned tie.”

  Ignoring the distraction of Matt’s touch, Tasha looked in that direction. “Tall, short brown hair, long nose?”

  “Yes. That’s Ralph Moretti. He owns Waterside Charters. They’re smaller than Whiskey Bay, but they’re closest to us geographically.”

  “Is he married?”

  Matt’s hand flexed against her waist. “Why?”

  “So I know how to play this.”

  “Play this?”

  “If he’s up to something, he’ll be a lot more likely to give information away based on my giggling, ingenuous questions than if you start grilling him. But if he has a wife who’s likely to show up halfway through the conversation, it going to throw us off the game.”

  “You’re going to flirt with him?” Matt did not sound pleased.

  “I wouldn’t call it flirting.”

  “What would you call it?”

  “Disarming.” She sized up Ralph Moretti as they drew closer.

  “There’s a distinction?” Matt asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  They’d run out of room. Ralph was right there in front of them.

  “Moretti,” Matt greeted with a handshake.

  “Emerson,” Ralph responded.

  Ralph’s guarded tone immediately piqued Tasha’s interest.

  It took about half a second for his gaze to move to her and stop.

  “Tasha Lowell.” She offered him her hand.

  “Call me Ralph,” he told her, lightly shaking. He was gentlemanly enough not to squeeze.

  “Ralph,” she said with a bright smile. “Matt tells me you have a marina.”

  “I do indeed.”

&nb
sp; “I have a thing for boats.”

  The pressure of Matt’s hand increased against her back.

  “Really?” Ralph asked, with the barest of gazes at Matt. “What do you like about them?”

  “Everything,” she said. “The lines of the craft, the motion of the waves, the way they can take you on adventures.”

  “A woman of good taste,” he said.

  “How far do you go?” she asked.

  Matt coughed.

  “Excuse me?” Ralph asked.

  Tasha leaned in just a little bit. “Your charters. Oregon? California? Do you go up to Canada?”

  “Washington and Oregon mostly,” he said.

  “Are you looking to expand?”

  Ralph’s gaze flicked to Matt. Was it a look of guilt?

  “Maybe in the future,” Ralph said, bringing his attention back to Tasha.

  “What about markets?” she asked.

  His expression turned confused, maybe slightly suspicious.

  “Do you get a lot of women clients?” She breezed past the topic she’d intended to broach. “Party boats. Me and my friends like to have fun.”

  “Ah,” he said, obviously relaxing again. “Yes. Waterside can party it up with the best of them.”

  “Whiskey Bay—” she touched Matt lightly on the arm “—seems to go for an older crowd.”

  He stiffened beside her.

  She ignored the reaction and carried on. “I don’t know if I’ve seen your advertising. Do you have a website?”

  “We’re upgrading it,” Ralph said.

  “Expanding your reach? There is a Midwest full of clients right next door. Spring break would be an awesome time to get their attention.”

  “Do you have a job?” Ralph asked her.

  She laughed. “Are you offering?”

  “You’d make one heck of an ambassador.”

  She held up her palms. “That’s what I keep telling Matt.”

  “You’re missing the boat on this, Matt.” There was an edge of humor to Ralph’s tone, but he kept his gaze on Tasha this time.

  Matt spoke up. “She can have any job she wants at Whiskey Bay for as long as she wants it.”

  Ralph quickly glanced up. Whatever he saw on Matt’s expression caused him to take a step back.

  “It was nice to meet you, Tasha,” Ralph said.