T is for Temptation

by Jianne Carlo

  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.

  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.

  “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.

  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.”

  “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?”

  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 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?”

  “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.

  “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 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 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 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.”

  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.