Twice the Temptation

by Rochelle Alers

  Brooke managed what passed for a smile when the muscles in her face refused to move. “I know Garrett is always tied up with one deal or another, but try to convince your boyfriend to come along when we sail down to the Caribbean for a week before the tropical storm season begins.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Denise promised.

  “Speaking of your handsome boyfriend, I see him looking for you. Please apologize to him if I’ve monopolized too much of your time.”

  Denise mumbled she would as she made her way over to where Rhett was standing near the rail, seemingly half listening to something Brooke’s daughter was telling him. His expression changed when their eyes met. She recognized what he was trying to communicate to her.

  Walking over to him, she slipped her arm through his. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow my fiancé for a few minutes.” The word fiancé seemed to get the woman’s attention, and she turned and walked away.

  “Let’s go up on the upper deck,” Rhett said sotto voce, as he led her away from the crowd and up a flight of stairs. The view from the top of the yacht was spectacular. There was a near full moon and without the lights from high-rise buildings the stars appeared brighter, closer.

  Wrapping his arms around Denise’s waist, he pulled her to his chest while sharing his body’s heat. “Are you cold, darling?”

  Burying her face against his chest, she shook her head. “No. I’m good.” Her top had long sleeves.

  “I should’ve warned you that Brooke’s rather chatty and clingy.”

  Denise smiled. “She’s okay as long as I don’t have to deal with her every day. Speaking of every day, she wants me to convince you to go along with her and Jim when they sail down to the Caribbean in a couple of weeks.”

  “I’d go if you could get away.”

  “I can’t, Rhett. Our enrollment numbers increase during the summer recess. And then there are employee vacations, so we’ll be stretched pretty thin over the next couple of months.”

  “When do you take your vacation?”

  “I don’t.”

  Pulling back, Rhett stared at Denise with an incredulous look on his face. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. I haven’t had a vacation in more than two years.”

  Grasping her shoulders, he shook her gently. “Have you lost your mind? How long do you think you can keep going without taking a break?”

  “I get a break.”

  “When?”

  “Remember, I don’t work weekends,” she argued softly.

  “Weekends aren’t enough, Denise.”

  “They’re enough for me, Rhett. I sleep until late morning and then laze around for most of the day.”

  “When do you shop for food?”

  “I do that during the week before I go home.”

  “How about laundry?”

  “I have a washer and dryer in my apartment.”

  “Do you cook for yourself?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “When?” Rhett asked, continuing with his interrogation.

  “Usually on Sundays I cook enough to last me until midweek. After that, I’ll either bring something in or order takeout.”

  “Who cleans your apartment?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you hear yourself, Denise? You cook, clean, shop and do laundry. And that’s when you’re not at the center. When are you going to make time for Denise?”

  She frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “When do you find the time to do what you like to do? I remember the girl who loved going to the movies and art galleries. You used to drag me to every museum whenever they had a new exhibit. When was the last time you went to a museum?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Rhett countered, “because it probably was with me. I’m going to give you an early birthday gift of a cleaning service and personal chef.”

  “No, Rhett!”

  “Yes, Denise! I don’t want to marry a shell of a woman come the end of the year.”

  Her temper flared. “Now I know what this is all about. You want me nice and perky when you flaunt me as Mrs. Garrett—”

  “That’s enough, Denise.”

  “It’s not enough, Garrett. You can’t come back into my life and turn it upside down without first talking to me. I’m not a piece of property you’ve bought, then you have to decide whether you’ll either keep it or unload it for a profit. When I marry you I want to be your partner. I’m not some hapless creature who can’t think or take care of herself.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

  “Well, it did. If I’m awarded the grant, then there will be enough money to hire an assistant director, and that will free me up to take a vacation.”

  “Why didn’t you say that?”

  “You didn’t ask, Rhett. You just started firing questions at me and—”

  “I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

  “I’ll think about it, but only if you dance with me.”

  Rhett listened to the music drifting up from below deck. The DJ was playing one of their favorite songs. Taking her in his arms, he tucked her curves into his body. They danced without moving their feet, their bodies swaying sensuously from side to side.

  “I want to make love to you right here,” he rasped in her ear.

  “We can’t,” Denise whispered.

  “Why not, baby?”

  “What if someone sees us?”

  Rhett laughed. “Everyone onboard is an adult. I’m certain they’re all quite familiar with copulating.”

  “That may be so, but I’m not going to copulate in a public place.”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure, baby?” His hands cradled her hips, allowing her to feel his hard-on. “I’m in pain, sweetheart.”

  “It would serve you right if I jerked you off right here,” Denise teased.

  Throwing back his head, Rhett laughed loudly. “Damn, girl. When did you get so nasty?”

  “You were the one who turned me into a bad girl.”

  He sobered quickly. “You’re right about that. But I have to say that you were an excellent student. You were also a quick study.”

  Denise buried her face between his neck and shoulder. “That’s because you were an incredible teacher.”

  “Do you think you’ll need additional tutoring?”

  “A little. But you better get all of the tutoring in tonight because I’m expecting my period.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “I’ll see if I can fit you into my busy schedule.”

  Denise shivered as if someone had run a feather over the back of her neck. Rhett was talking about fitting her in. Was he referring to his sleeping with another or other women?

  “Who else are you sleeping with?”

  Rhett stopped swaying. “What!?”

  “Don’t what me, Garrett.”

  “Don’t tell me we’re going to rehash old crap, Denise.”

  “It’s not old crap. I need to know if you’re sleeping with me and another woman at the same time.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t raise your voice to me.”

  Rhett dropped his arms. “When I speak in a normal tone you seem not to hear me.”

  “I hear you.”

  “No, you don’t, or you never would’ve asked me something so damned asinine. I told you the first time I made love with you that I’ve never been able to sleep with more than one woman at the same time. Emotionally I’m not equipped to play bed-hopping games. You not trusting me is what drove us apart. Why are you doing it again?”

  Denise realized she didn’t have a comeback. She moved over to the rail, peering out into the water. Why, she mused, couldn’t she let go of the past? Closing her eyes, she leaned back against Rhett when he came up behind her.

  “I’m sorry, Rhett.”

  Wrappin
g his arms around her midriff, he kissed the side of her neck. “Apology accepted. And I’m sorry I raised my voice to you.”

  She smiled. “Apology accepted.”

  They lost track of time as they stood together, each lost in their private thoughts. When they went below deck they found everyone in the sky lounge watching a movie. All of the chairs were occupied and those who hadn’t found a chair sat on the carpet. Rhett found a spot, pulling Denise down to sit between his outstretched legs. It was a romantic comedy he’d seen before, but he enjoyed viewing it again.

  The ship sailed down the intercoastal waterway to Chesapeake Ranch Estates before reversing its course. It was after three when Rhett pressed the remote that opened the garage door. He drove in and shut off the engine, closing the door behind him.

  “I can’t believe it’s so late,” Denise said around the yawn she covered with her hand when Rhett helped her out of the car.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He was glad and she was glad she’d agreed to spend the weekend with Rhett. “I’m going upstairs to shower and get into bed before I fall asleep standing up.”

  Rhett winked at her. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  The few minutes became forty minutes, and when he walked into his bedroom Denise was sound asleep. He took a shower to get rid of the saltwater smell clinging to his clothes and body. Denise stirred but didn’t wake up when he got into bed with her.

  She didn’t know how serious he’d been when he told her about the cleaning service and personal chef. Perhaps he’d presented it all wrong, but Rhett knew he had to try to convince Denise to slow down before she broke down mentally and physically.

  He’d been there, done that when working and attending classes full-time. There were mornings when he’d had to force himself to get out of bed. The theft of his research paper had been a blessing in disguise. If the greedy bastard hadn’t taken it there was no doubt he would still be working for the investment banking firm.

  Rhett knew he had to find a way to help New Visions financially, so as to give Denise respite from the sole responsibility of the child care center. He knew she wouldn’t accept a check from him outright, but she’d be a fool to reject money from a local company willing to make a charitable donation.

  His mind was spinning with ideas when fatigue won out, and he joined Denise in sleep.

  As predicted, Denise saw evidence of her menses, accompanied by cramps and a headache. She spent the afternoon reclining on the chaise on the terrace, sipping lukewarm tea with lemon. She tolerated the cramps because her period only lasted three days. Any more than that and she would be forced to take something to alleviate the pain. During the drive back to D.C., she was practically monosyllabic, preferring to sleep than talk.

  Rhett, who was more than familiar with the change in Denise’s mood, didn’t pressure her to talk. He found a space in the visitor section of the parking lot adjacent to her building and he carried her bags when they rode the elevator to her apartment.

  “Do you want me to hang out with you tonight?” he asked when she unlocked the door.

  Denise turned and stared up at Rhett. He hadn’t bothered to shave and the stubble on his lean face enhanced his blatant masculinity. “Do you want to?”

  He angled his head, smiling. “Yes.”

  “Come in.”

  Rhett kissed her forehead. “Let me go back to the car and get my bag.” He winked at her. “Don’t run away.”

  Denise gave him a wry smile. “I’ll try not to.”

  Chapter 11

  Denise was surprised to get up earlier that morning and find Rhett in her kitchen preparing breakfast. When she’d complimented him on his culinary skills, he countered saying his skill did not extend beyond breakfast. Her cramps weren’t as severe as they’d been the day before and she found herself in better spirits.

  She’d picked up The Washington Post that had been delivered outside her door, and over breakfast they talked then read the newspaper as they’d done as students. Denise was always interested in local politics and world events, while Rhett devoured the business and financial section. He left her apartment to return to his. Instead of leaving her house to arrive at the center at seven, Denise walked in at eight. She’d planned to take Rhett’s advice and take more time for herself.

  They would return to the Cape the upcoming weekend when Rhett would host an open house coordinated by Brooke Andersen. It would also be the first time Denise would reunite with his mother since their breakup.

  Denise sat at the table in her office with the center’s social worker. After the Memorial Day weekend the center shifted to summer mode. The normal Friday-morning staff meetings were staggered with Denise meeting with them individually, because many of the employees, the teachers in particular, had elected to take either Mondays or Fridays off, giving them three-day weekends.

  She and Lisa Brown were going over files on the children the therapist had flagged. “What’s happening with Angelo?”

  Lisa adjusted her half-glasses. Her smooth round brown face belied her age. “He’s wetting the bed again, and his teacher noticed a fresh bruise on his thigh. He claims he fell off his bike. The last report of bed-wetting was when his father returned to the house.”

  “I thought his mother had a restraining order against his father.”

  “She does,” Lisa confirmed.

  Denise massaged her forehead, while shaking her head. “Are you certain he’s back in the house?”

  The retired social worker was a volunteer, working twelve hours a week to offset fees for her two grandchildren. Her daughter and son-in-law had been deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan, and she’d become temporary guardian for twin toddlers.

  “I can’t say yes with any amount of certainty.”

  “Have you talked to Angelo’s mother?”

  “I tried, but she’s too afraid to say anything. Remember, it was her sister who made her call the police when he broke Angelo’s arm.”

  “Call child protective services and have them make an unannounced house call. You also have to let them know about the bruise.” The center was mandated by law to report what they suspected to be child abuse. “What else do you have?”

  “Miranda says Ms. Vance still hasn’t taken DeShawn to get his glasses.”

  “Tell Ms. Vance that we’re going to suspend her son until he gets his glasses. That should get her attention. It’s not fair the child has to sit out most activities because he can’t see more than three feet in front of his face.”

  Lisa made notations on a legal pad. “Ms. Clark called me to say she’s going to have to pull her son out because her employer has cut her hours and she can’t afford to pay our fee.”

  “Have her bring in her pay stub and we’ll adjust the fee. The woman can’t keep or look for another job with a child in tow.” The single mother had come to the center after her mother, who’d looked after her infant son, passed away.

  Lisa smiled, showing off the braces on her teeth. She’d waited until she was in her early fifties to correct an overbite. “That’s it, Denise.”

  Denise smiled. “Thanks, Lisa.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She exhaled an audible breath when the social worker walked out, closing the door behind her. Denise didn’t think she would ever get used to the number of incidents of neglect and/or abuse when it came to children. A number of New Visions children were in foster care, which was a constant reminder of the breakdown of the family structure. Single mothers, single fathers, divorced parents, grandparents as legal guardians for their grand-and great-grandchildren, drugs, alcohol, physical and sexual abuse were becoming all too common.

  Pushing to her feet, Denise looped the lanyard with her ID around her neck. In addition to her administrative duties, she was the New Visions storyteller. The children loved hearing her read because she was able to change her voice, affecting different dialects and ac
cents, much to their amusement. Today’s title for the two- and three-year-olds was Dr. Seuss’s Cat in the Hat.

  Rhett stood over the conference-room table with the Capital Management Properties urban planner and his assistant—an undergraduate student. The constant hammering and drilling coming from the fourth floor was missing. He’d contacted the contractor to arrange for his team to come in after the offices closed for the day. The contractor had reminded him that he would have to charge for the night differential, but it was worth it to Rhett not to be disturbed by the ongoing noise.

  Bill Lloyd had spread the architectural plans for the four-square block of commercial property out on the table. “There are thirty-six storefronts—twenty occupied and twelve vacant.”

  “How many have valid leases?” Rhett asked.

  “Fifteen,” said the assistant.

  Rhett smiled. “That’s more than I would’ve predicted.” The former owner had neglected to renew leases, and in the end had stopped making repairs to his properties. “I want you to put a team together to visit each of the merchants and ascertain whether they want to continue doing business. I already have the architect’s report as to structural problems in some of the stores. CMP will make the repairs, renovate and update all of the storefronts to give them a uniformed appearance. Malcolm, I want you to check with the police to uncover which businesses have been targeted for holdups and burglaries. Also, which ones have a heavier than usual number of people hanging out in front of them. Once the area is gentrified the store owners are going to be responsible for enforcing the no-loitering clause in their lease. Teenagers hanging out around corner stores make them easy targets for drug pushers.”

  Bill Lloyd pointed to the stores highlighted in yellow. “What’s up with these?”

  Rhett stared at the brilliant urban planner who’d just celebrated his thirtieth birthday. When he’d taken over Capital Management Properties, Bill had elected to stay on rather than look for another position. “One houses a child care center. I’ve earmarked the adjacent storefront for their proposed expansion.”