“I didn’t write any lies on them. I may have just not told the whole truth.”
John suppressed a curse. “All this could have been easily avoided if you just did what you were supposed to do.” Despite his anger, John felt a twinge of sorrow for Don. Why were some people constitutionally unable to play by the rules? “If you think a law is wrong then you can work to change it. You can’t just ignore it.”
Don shoved some items from his drawer—expensive Cross pens, technological gadgets—into his leather briefcase. “Everything’s easy for you. You’ve always been the golden boy.”
“I’ve worked my ass off for everything I’ve achieved and I’m not going to let you throw it all away.” John wanted to take Don by the scruff of the neck and hurl him down the hallway, but he restrained himself. He also wanted to cuss his uncle out for ruining all his elaborate plans to keep Constance in his life, but he knew better than to clue Don in to that secret.
Don looked up from his desk and peered at him. “Shame you didn’t use your charm to run Constance Allen off the property as I suggested.”
“Charm usually has the opposite effect.”
“Not on a sexless automaton like that one. A calculator in a suit.”
John’s hands were forming fists again without his permission. “You keep your thoughts on Ms. Allen to yourself.”
“Oh, did I touch a nerve? I suppose you’ve seen more of what’s under that suit than I gave you credit for. What if I tell the press about that, huh?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
“There’s nothing to tell,” he growled. “Just get out of here before I throw you out.” Fury churned in his gut. Now that Constance had overturned Don’s applecart, there was basically no way he could invite her into the family without it causing a major rift. Not that she’d want to come, anyway. He’d promised her all would be aboveboard, only to be proved wrong by his own flesh and blood. And now she thought he’d seduced her in a deliberate ploy to interfere with her investigation.
“I can see you have feelings for her.” Don hoisted his bag onto his shoulder.
“I don’t. Except that I’m mad she wouldn’t let me deal with this myself. I could have made you declare all your back taxes without dragging the law into this.”
A knock on the door made them both turn. “Mr. Fairweather.” Angie, one of the desk clerks, appeared. “The police are here.”
“I knew they’d turn up sooner or later.” John shoved a hand through his hair. “Why not just send them up?”
* * *
“I’m so glad you’re back home, dear.” Constance peeled carrots while her mom chopped chicken breast for a pie. She’d been home for three days and they’d all settled back into their dull, familiar routine as if she’d never left. “Maybe you can talk some sense into your father about eating better. His cholesterol still isn’t down where it should be and he keeps insisting on eggs and sausage for breakfast in the morning. He’s even making it himself when I refuse.”
“I’ll bake some healthy muffins tomorrow morning. I think the best strategy is to tempt him away from the bad things he loves rather than just making him eat stuff he hates.”
“You’re so right, dear. I hadn’t really thought of that. I’ve been trying to convince him to eat oatmeal and he won’t even touch it. I knew you’d come up with something. I hope your job isn’t going to send you away again.”
“Actually my boss was talking about an assignment in Omaha. They seem to like the fact that I’m single and have no obligations.”
“But you have an obligation to me and your father. You should tell them that.”
“You should get used to me being gone, Mom. What if I get married?”
Her mom laughed. “You? You’re married to your job. I can’t even imagine you with a man. And honestly, sometimes I think they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”
Constance’s grip tightened on the peeler. Did her own mother seriously not think that she’d want to get married and have a family? Then again, why should she? Constance hadn’t dated anyone at all the entire time she’d been living at home and she’d rebuffed several efforts to set her up with people she had no interest in or attraction to.
The truth was, she hadn’t been interested in anyone until she met John. Why did she have to finally fall for someone so unsuitable and impossible? It could never have worked out, even if their affair hadn’t been a shocking breach of professional conduct. He was a seasoned playboy who had apparently seduced her for his own purposes—at least initially—and if they hadn’t been torn apart by circumstance he would have grown bored with her and cast her aside eventually.
“Why are your hands shaking?” Constance saw her mom’s penetrating gray gaze fall on her fingers and she tried to peel faster. “I knew you never should have gone to that den of vice. You’ve looked like a ghost ever since you got back. Sally told me she read on the internet there’s a big investigation going on there now. Tax evasion. I told her it was you that found out about it.” She clucked her tongue. “Hardly a surprise, of course. It’s always the people with the most money who are least willing to part with it. Still, I’m sure it was exhausting having to interact with people like that.”
“I’m just tired.” No need to mention all the stray emotion racking her and keeping her awake at night. “It was a challenging job. A lot of papers and computer files to go through. I worked really long hours.” And then played even longer hours.
The memory of John’s strong arms around her haunted her in the dead of night. Her body still tingled with awareness whenever she thought of him. Which was unfair, because she knew that right now he must hate her.
She’d seen the stories online. Don had been arrested and charged with tax evasion and John had bailed him out with five hundred thousand dollars of his own money. He certainly wouldn’t be lying around in bed thinking about how much he missed the woman who’d given the IRS probable cause for a full investigation of New Dawn. There was even talk of the casino being closed down while it was under investigation, and she knew from her examination of the books that would mean millions in losses for John and the tribe.
When he thought of her it must be with resentment and anger. Still, if she had to do it over, she wouldn’t do anything differently. She’d bent her rules by leaking the information about John’s uncle to him, but in the end, she’d stuck to her principles and done the job she was paid to do.
The affair with John was a whole different story. Would she let that happen again? She wasn’t entirely sure she’d let it happen in the first place. It had just happened. What evolved between them had crept over her like a thunderstorm and she suspected there was nothing she could have done to control or stop the thunder and lightning flashing in her body—and her heart—when John was around.
Lucky thing she wouldn’t see him again. The IRS had taken over the investigation and her firm had sent their final bill to the BIA. She could wash her hands of the whole sticky mess.
Except that she couldn’t get John Fairweather out of her mind.
She’d just scraped the carrot peelings into the bin and was removing the full bag when the door to the kitchen flung open and her dad peered in. “Son of a gun, Constance, you’re not going to believe what that fellow on the news just said.”
“What, Dad?” Probably something to do with the upcoming local election he was up in arms about.
“That Native American from the casino who was arrested for tax evasion just claimed that the leader of the tribe engaged in personal relations with the accountant who came to investigate them. Isn’t that you?”
Constance fumbled and the bin liner and its contents spilled onto the floor. “What?” Her voice was a shaky whisper. Blood roared in her ears. Or maybe it was the sound of her whole world crashing down around her.
“Said he wasn’t the only one bending a few rules and he thought people should know the truth about the BIA’s investigator who pointed the f
inger at him.” Her dad’s voice trailed off as he surveyed the mess on the floor. “It’s not true, is it, sweet?”
She scrambled to pick up the slimy carrot peelings, plastic cheese wrappers and crumpled damp paper towels from the tile floor and shove them back in the bag. Could she really lie to her own parents?
“Constance Allen.” Her mother’s voice rang out. “You heard your father. Tell us this minute that these evil accusations are entirely false.”
She rose shakily to her feet and held her hands under the tap, trying to rinse off the garbage. “They’re not false.” She couldn’t even look at them as she said it. She picked up the sponge and knelt back down to try to wipe up the mess.
“You had an affair with the man you were sent to dig up dirt on?” Her mother moved closer.
“I was sent to look at the company’s books. I did my job.” She rinsed the sponge and wrung it out. Then she looked up at her parents standing there, so close to her, in the small kitchen where she’d made dinner with her mother for so many years. “I didn’t mean to do anything else, but...” How did she explain what happened? “He was very handsome and kind, and I was very foolish.”
“I have no doubt that man deliberately set out to seduce you in order to pervert the course of your investigation.” Her mother’s mouth pinched into a tight knot.
“Maybe he did.” She put the sponge down, hands still trembling. “But I never altered anything about the way I conducted my work. As you’ve already heard, I uncovered tax evasion by one of his relatives.”
“Did you sleep with this man?” Her mother’s hissed question made her shrink inside her clothes.
“Sarah! How can you ask such a question?” Her dad’s shocked expression only deepened Constance’s sense of humiliation and sadness.
“I did, Mom. I’m sorry, Dad. It’s just the truth. I’m not proud of it. To this day I really don’t know what came over me. He was quite a man.” She let out a sigh and wished she could release the tension that heated the air in the kitchen almost to the boiling point. “Apparently I’m only human after all.”
“I knew you should never have gone to that gambling establishment. A place like that isn’t safe for a nice young girl.”
“It’s not the place, Mom. It’s me. I’ve been living under a rock too long. I didn’t realize how lonely I was. How much intimacy and affection could appeal to me.”
“This man must have no sense of honor at all if he’d tell the media about your...interaction with him.” Her father’s usually placid brow had furrowed. “Then again, it was the other man on the news. The one you accused of tax evasion.” He cleared his throat. “I suppose the dust will settle sooner or later.”
“Oh, dear.” Her mother’s hand was now pressed to her mouth. “You’ll be fired, won’t you?”
“Probably.” Her voice was hollow. She had no appetite whatsoever for carrots and chicken potpie. “In fact, I suppose I should offer my resignation.”
“There’s always a spot for you behind our counter. Our customers do love you,” her dad tried to reassure her.
Constance cringed at the thought of serving people who’d heard about her transgressions.
“Are you trying to set our daughter up as a carnival sideshow, Brian? She can’t be seen in public with scandal like this flying around. Though I suppose she could reorganize the shelves in the stockroom. Goodness, what will the pastor think?”
Constance hit breaking point and watched herself throw the sponge down in the sink and run from the room, leaving them staring after her. She’d known it was wrong to sleep with John and she’d done it anyway. He had been too much for her to resist. Now she’d lose her career over him and she probably deserved it. At least stupidity wasn’t a crime and she wouldn’t end up with a criminal record for her mistake.
She hurled herself down on the bed, tears hovering just behind her eyes. How was John coping with all of this? Was he embarrassed by the news of their liaison becoming public, or did he think it was funny? She’d loved the way that nothing rattled him and he went about his business with such good humor.
Maybe she could learn to do the same. She’d need all the sense of humor she could muster to get through the coming days and weeks.
* * *
John pounded along the trail, past the grazing cows and towards the shady woods. It wasn’t his style to run away from problems, but right now he needed to let off steam. A twig snapped behind him and he spun around, expecting to see another nosy reporter.
Worse, he saw Don, sweating and panting, trying to catch up with him.
“Get lost.”
“Wait! I want to apologize.”
“It’s way, way too late for that.” Anger rushed him—again—and he turned and kept running, faster. At least his uncle Don was one problem he really could outrun.
But the footsteps got closer. “You forgot I was a sprinter in high school,” rasped Don.
“Sprinting will only get you but so far. Like cheating, and lying.” John kept running, though the urge to turn around and knock Don to the ground tightened his biceps.
“I promise I’ll never lie or cheat again.” Don gasped the words as he ran. “I’ll never gamble again.”
“How about if you never speak again?” John yelled. Don kept getting closer, his wiry frame must be fitter than it looked.
“That I can’t promise. See? I’m not lying.” Don was almost level with him.
John spun around and shoved out his hand, which caught Don in the chest with the satisfying force of a punch. Don doubled over as the air rushed out of his lungs. “I should knock you senseless.”
“But that would be a crime and you’re well above that.”
“Exactly.” John looked down on Don, who panted, hands on his knees. “And I’m trying to build the Nissequot tribe, not kill off its members with my bare hands.”
“I really am sorry.”
“For what? There’s so much for you to regret that I can’t keep track. You’re being investigated for fraud along with the business I’ve staked everything on. You could go to prison. And on top of that you decided to announce to the local news that I had an affair with the BIA’s investigator.”
“I was mad at you. I didn’t think they they’d really believe me. I didn’t even believe it myself. You should have told me it was true and I would have kept my mouth shut. It is true, isn’t it?”
“As if I would ever confide in you. I wouldn’t trust you with my grocery list at this point.” He should have rebuffed Don’s innuendo, instead of ignoring it. Denied his suspicions.
Except that they were true.
Even now he couldn’t get Constance out of his mind for a solid minute. He’d hoped that the vision of her soft hazel eyes would fade. It had been three days and now he was seeing her face everywhere he looked.
“I know you think I’m stupid, and in all honesty, sometimes I am,” Don panted, sweat dripping from his tanned forehead. His black T-shirt was soaked through. “But I know there was something between you and Miss Constance Allen. And not just sex, either. If you ask me, you’re going to pieces without her.”
John jerked to his feet. “Going to pieces? You’re the one losing your mind. I’ve never been calmer. I’m just trying to think of how to prevent the enterprise we spent years building, and the tribe we’ve poured our lifeblood into, from being destroyed by a few strokes of a pen. I’m not even thinking about...her.”
Don rose to his feet and wiped sweat from his brow. “You can’t fool me, boy. I’ve known you too long. You need to go after her and win her back.”
He certainly wasn’t going to tell Don that he’d been thinking about it. “I’m sure the media would just love that.”
“I’m serious. It’s not a crime to fall in love. She still did her job and ratted me out.”
“She has principles, unlike a certain scumbag relative of mine.”
Don crossed his arms. “I’m serious. I don’t want you blaming me for you losing the love
of your life as well as creating an embarrassing mess in the press.”
John blew out hard. “I don’t need your advice to run my life, thanks. I think I can do a much better job of that by myself.”
Don persisted. “So go get her.”
John drew in a breath. The breeze cooled his face and a bird chirped in a nearby tree. “Although right now I hate you more than any man alive, for once you might be right about something.”
* * *
John ordered a ring from Tiffany’s in Manhattan and arranged to have it couriered to meet him at the airport in Cleveland. He chose a simple ring, since he knew Constance wouldn’t like anything ostentatious. He had to guess the size, but they assured him it would be easy to fix if necessary. He chartered a plane at the local airport and boarded it with anticipation snapping through his muscles.
Was he jumping the gun by planning a proposal rather than simply inviting her back into his life? Possibly. But getting her to move from Ohio to Massachusetts would take a huge leap of faith on her part and he wanted her to know that he meant to offer her everything—including marriage.
The word echoed in his brain. Marriage was permanent. For life. Usually that would scare him right out the door, but now it had a reassuring, solid ring to it that steadied his hand on the wheel. His grandmother always said that when you met the right person, you just knew. You didn’t have to date the woman for years or know every single thing about her to know that you were meant for each other. And his grandparents had been together long enough to test his grandmother’s theory.
John trusted his gut. It had steered him right many times in the past, even when everyone else and basic common sense suggested otherwise. His gut told him that Constance was the woman he’d been waiting for all these years. He needed her in his life, in his arms, in his bed.
Now all he had to do was convince her. And that meant convincing her that his intentions had been honorable from the start of their affair.
He arrived at the Cleveland airport and met the courier with the ring in the arrivals terminal. The diamond solitaire was as simple and lovely as he’d hoped, and his nerves sizzled as he tucked it into his pants pocket. Then he rented a car and programmed the GPS to take him to the address he’d found on the internet.
A HIGH STAKES SEDUCTION Page 15