Project Seduction

by Tatiana March

  "I can drive you there,” Rick told her evenly.

  Georgina gave a defeated sigh. “Fine. If that's the only way I can get out of here, let's go. I want to get it over with.” She collected her bags, refusing to let Rick carry them.

  Sebastian got up and stood in the doorway to wave them a good-natured farewell.

  Rick headed south when they got out of Palm Springs. “I'm taking you the scenic route."

  "As you wish.” Georgina stared straight ahead. She wasn't going to talk to him. Three hours of silence would be nothing for a woman with her capacity to hold a grudge.

  After twenty miles of driving, Rick turned off the main road and pulled onto a dirt track. “We're going for a walk."

  "I don't want to go for a walk,” Georgina protested. She was dressed in slacks and flats suitable for walking, but that was beside the point.

  "I do,” Rick said.

  He steered into a clearing that appeared an official car park of some sort, because a notice board displayed a map, and a poster about protecting wildlife.

  "What is this place?” Georgina asked.

  "It's a national forest. Mount St Jacinto Wilderness. It's a place where people go for walks."

  Rick circled the car and pulled the door open for her. When Georgina didn't get up, he put out his hand. “Please. We need to talk."

  Georgina didn't make the slightest move.

  "You can pout later all you like,” Rick said. “This is important. Get up. Now."

  Georgina rolled her eyes at him, but she climbed out of the car.

  "Don't take anything with you,” Rick ordered.

  "My handbag."

  "I'll lock it in the trunk."

  After he'd done it, they scaled the rutted forest path for a hundred yards.

  "This should be far enough,” Rick told her. “Check your pockets. Make sure they are empty."

  "Why?"

  "The maid could have planted a bug."

  "What am I looking for?"

  "Anything small and hard. Plastic or metal. Size of a button."

  Georgina went through her clothes, including feeling along the seams. “Nothing,” she confirmed.

  "All right. Sit down.” Rick pointed at a smooth stone.

  Georgina perched herself on top. She pressed her hands together and tucked them between her legs. Rick stood in front of her, placing his fingertips lightly on her shoulders.

  "I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean that to happen."

  "You behaved like a beast, just to play out some stupid role. You didn't give any thought to how it would make me feel."

  "I had no choice."

  Her gaze challenged him. “There's always a choice."

  "Yes. The choice was to claim you for myself, or let Sebastian have you. Would you have preferred that?"

  "No.” Georgina forced out the word. It wasn't because she wanted to give him the satisfaction of hearing it, but because the truth shouldn't be denied.

  "Good,” Rick said.

  "What if I get pregnant?"

  "If you do, we'll deal with it."

  She gave him a withering glance.

  "Sorry,” he said. His fingers tightened over her shoulders. “I don't want you to worry about it."

  "Easy for you to say.” Georgina looked down into her lap. She'd let him stew on that one for a while. She knew she wouldn't get pregnant, it wasn't the right time of the month, but there was no need to tell him that.

  "I'm sorry,” Rick said again.

  "Why did it have to happen?” Georgina asked quietly. “I don't understand."

  "Diaz was determined to bind you emotionally to his team. He is wary of women in business. He feels they need to be attached to a man. He claims it gives him more control over them."

  "That's rubbish."

  "Is it really?” Rick said. “What caused you to be in his house today, if not your connection with me?"

  "It's not that simple."

  "That's what Diaz believes. That women's actions are controlled by men."

  Georgina decided it wasn't the time and place to make Rick understand how wrong he was. “I wondered why all the men suddenly seemed so interested in me,” she muttered, her face lowered.

  "Don't underestimate your appeal,” Rick told her quietly.

  Georgina glanced up, but decided not to comment. “What happens now?"

  "We'll go ahead. It will be easier now, as we can arrange to meet once in a while. I'll have to be in my Camacho getup, and we'll have to be very careful with what we say."

  "How do we go ahead?” Georgina had no intention of agreeing to any meetings with him, but she was too mentally drained to start an argument.

  "Diaz spoke to me after lunch. It's all set up.” Rick's tone changed to official. “You'll find a builder. You'll pick up the cash from Palm Springs once a month and deliver it to the builder. The idea is to keep Diaz at a distance and to implicate you, so that you can't double-cross him."

  "What a nice man,” Georgina said, her voice tight with scorn.

  "This is not your world,” Rick told her quietly. “I warned you not to get involved."

  "For once, I wish I'd listened to you."

  "Finally, we're getting somewhere.” Rick grinned and pulled Georgina up to her feet. Holding her close, he stroked her hair. “I'm sorry, sweetheart. It's been a tough few days for you."

  "I know.” Georgina found herself leaning into him, despite not wanting to. “I started a life of crime, I sank a car into a swimming pool, and I starred in a porn movie."

  "Not just a car, darling. A Porsche."

  "Oh,” Georgina said. “Do I get extra points for that?"

  "That's the way,” Rick said. “If you can't change it, laugh at it."

  "At least I have the tape.” Georgina frowned. “Diaz swore there's just the one copy."

  "You have the tape?” Rick snapped to attention.

  "Yeah.” Georgina gave a slow nod. “I was surprised when Diaz just gave it to me when I asked."

  "They run those tapes at half speed.” Rick paused to calculate. “That makes six hours per tape. There may be some useful footage on it. People whose photos we don't have on file.” He gave her a congratulatory pat on the back. “That's excellent, sweetheart. Well done."

  "Hold on,” Georgina said, trying not to let the patronizing gesture annoy her. “Are you telling me someone's going to watch the tape?"

  "Not that part.” Rick broke into a smile. “I'll have that spliced out before I hand the tape over. I want to see it, though.” He reached out and ran a finger along her jaw. “You want to watch with me?"

  Georgina felt her face burn. “I don't know.” She flicked a quick glance up at him.

  "Come on,” Rick said. “You ought to. I don't think you have any idea of how incredible you were."

  "I'll think about it,” Georgina muttered.

  "Okay.” Rick took her hand, and they retraced their path. “Let's get back and hit the road. Remember, we can't talk in the car. I haven't swept it for bugs."

  "I thought you said it was no use. That they could listen anyway."

  "Not in a car. A stationary mike or camera can't get you in a moving vehicle. A car needs to be bugged."

  "You were supposed to explain things to me properly,” Georgina complained. “How am I supposed to learn if you leave out important facts?"

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Twelve

  On Monday morning Georgina and Annabel sat behind closed doors in Georgina's office, feasting on chocolate muffins that Annabel had baked over the weekend.

  Annabel's face reflected a gamut of emotions as Georgina described the plan to take down Domenico Diaz. Curiosity came first, followed by a healthy dose of suspicion, accompanied with concern over Georgina's safety. But gradually, an expression of hope and excitement animated Annabel's exquisite features.

  "So, I was wondering if you'd want to help,” Georgina said. “Sort of coordinate things with the builder. Your contac
ts in the construction industry would be a tremendous help."

  "Is there going to be something in it for the builder?” Annabel asked. Her fingers appeared to tremble as they toyed with the empty cup on the white saucer.

  "We'd let him buy the half-finished houses at cost. He'd stand to make a good profit."

  "All right. I'll do it.” Annabel raised her gaze. Her eyes glittered, and she kept blinking. “On one condition."

  "Shoot."

  "That I can choose the builder. I want to use a man named Danville Lewis. He trades under ‘CAL Homes'."

  Georgina searched Annabel's face. “Lewis,” she said, keeping her voice low. “You said that name the night you got drunk."

  "I know,” Annabel admitted quietly. She twisted the cup around in the saucer. “I'm sorry I haven't talked to you about it before. He's someone who haunts my dreams."

  "Will you tell me now?” Georgina reached out to touch her hand.

  "There's very little to tell,” Annabel said. “I hardly know him. His father, Leland Lewis, and Carl, my ex-husband, entered into a joint venture two years ago. Leland Lewis had been offered a development which was too big for his construction company. He needed a partner. Carl went in with him, but Carl rigged the contracts. He put in a clause which allowed him to pull out at any time. Then he used one of his other companies to supply substandard materials to the project, making huge profits. The materials were supposed to be top grade. Halfway through the project Danville and Leland Lewis realized what was going on. They confronted Carl, who used the loophole in the agreement to pull out, leaving them to sort out the mess."

  Georgina's brow furrowed as she shifted through the information. “What did Danville and Leland Lewis do? Did they go to court?"

  "No.” Annabel shook her head slowly. “They fixed the houses. Ripped out and replaced everything that wasn't up to specification. It was an upscale sub-division near Laguna Beach. Most of the units had already been sold. Leland and Danville Lewis were determined not to let the buyers down. It nearly ruined them financially. Leland Lewis had cancer. He died just under a year ago, without ever knowing if the company he'd founded would survive."

  "What was your role in all this?” Georgina asked. “I mean, you were Carl's wife. Will Danville Lewis be willing to deal with you?"

  "I was just a bystander. And we won't know what Danville Lewis thinks of me until we ask him."

  "Why do you want him?” Georgina persisted. “Why not use someone you don't have an unpleasant history with?"

  Annabel reached over to set her cup and saucer on the edge of the desk, her face serene and composed again. “Danville Lewis is still struggling financially. I want to help. To make up for what Carl did."

  "What if he says he's not interested?"

  "Then I'm not interested either. You'll have to find someone else."

  "All right,” Georgina agreed. “I'll set up a meeting. Can you give me his contact details?"

  Annabel nodded. “Can you do me a favor? Don't mention my name. Otherwise he might not come."

  "If that's what you think, I really don't understand why we are even considering him,” Georgina said.

  "That's the way I want it,” Annabel said quietly. “I'll email his contact details to you in a second.” She stood up and went to her workstation. A few minutes later she disappeared into the direction of the ladies room. When she emerged half an hour later, her make-up was fresh, but it couldn't hide the puffiness around her eyes.

  * * * *

  The windowless room in the basement of Pacific Bank was only furnished with a faded Formica table and a few plastic chairs. The air that pumped in through the ceiling vents was cold enough to give Rick goose pumps, despite the awful suit he was starting to loathe.

  "What is this place?” he asked Georgina. He hadn't seen her for almost a week. Despite her formal clothing and their impersonal surroundings, he found himself wanting to pull her close and feel the warmth of her body against his. The parting between them after he drove her back from the Diaz estate last Sunday had been cool. It weighed on his mind, more than he cared to admit.

  "It's an old computer room. The mainframe is housed off-site now. It used to require strict temperature control to keep the processor from overheating."

  "Why didn't they turn off the cold air when the computer was taken out?"

  Georgina pulled a face. “I guess no one remembered. I'll talk to maintenance."

  "Don't worry,” Rick said. “I don't expect to be back."

  "I wasn't thinking of your comfort,” Georgina pointed out. “It's waste of money to keep an empty room chilled."

  "I should have known,” Rick mumbled.

  "What?” Georgina glanced at him.

  "That my welfare wasn't the topmost in your thoughts."

  "It's your choice to be here today,” Georgina told him sharply. “I was quite happy to meet with the builder on my own."

  "He needs to hear from me that the plan is officially sanctioned.” Rick rested his eyes on Georgina, battling with a feeling of frustration he didn't wish to analyze right now. “For that at least, you need me."

  "Where's Maite?” Georgina said. “I thought she was supposed to come with you."

  "Maite had a few vacation days left. She's gone to Philadelphia with your art dealer friend. They are staying at the Four Seasons and doing the Art Museum and some other place that has a lot of Renoirs."

  "The Barnes Collection,” Georgina said absently, smoothing down the front of her skirt. “I hope they booked a parking space. Otherwise it's a nightmare to park."

  Rick found nothing to say in return. He adjusted his shoulder holster, trying not to make it obvious he was watching her. Georgina wore a fawn skirt and jacket, and matching shoes with high heels. He imagined what she had on underneath. The wretched suit grew even more uncomfortable.

  A knock interrupted the silence between them, and Georgina sprinted to open the door. A uniformed security guard appeared in the crack. He nodded at her, and then at the man he'd escorted down to the basement. Georgina dismissed the guard with a few quietly spoken words before she motioned the newcomer inside.

  "Rick Matisse. San Diego Police Department.” Rick stepped forward and shook hands.

  "Danville Lewis.” The man looked from Rick to Georgina. “I was invited here to talk about a building project. Someone had better start by explaining why the police are involved."

  "Please, sit down, Mr. Lewis.” Georgina pointed at a scuffed plastic chair.

  Danville Lewis sat down, and Georgina began to speak. Rick listened, tugging at his collar, cursing himself for wanting to attend the meeting. It was clear that Georgina didn't need him at all.

  Annabel Fairfax hurried along the basement corridor. Her breathing stalled, her hands shook, and her legs felt like rubber. As far as she was concerned, the next few minutes would be the most important in her life.

  She stopped outside the old mainframe room. For a second, she laid a hand over her racing heart. Then she gave the door a quick rap and pushed it open.

  Danville Lewis sat with his back to her. Even without seeing his face, Annabel would have recognized him anywhere. His slightly disheveled tawny hair was only a few shades darker than hers. An almost tangible aura of tension radiated from his compact lean body. The long-fingered hands, which she'd last seen clutching a hymn book, gripped the edge of the Formica table.

  Then he turned. Annabel caught her breath as his scowling amber eyes met hers. She'd never known anyone who carried the same quality of intensity about them as Danville Lewis.

  "What is she doing here?” He stood up so abruptly that his chair crashed backward and hit Annabel's legs.

  "She works here,” Georgina said smoothly. “She'll help with the project."

  "Mrs. Gundersen,” Danville Lewis said. His narrow face hardened, and his eyes burned into Annabel's. He crossed his arms over his chest, making no move toward her, or to pick up the fallen plastic chair.

  "It's Miss Fairfax n
ow,” Annabel said. “I left my husband."

  "Congratulations."

  Annabel gave him a tiny nod. “Thank you."

  Something passed over his face. “Why?” The question was spoken gruffly. It appeared reluctant, as though he was acting against his better judgment.

  "Why did I leave him, or why I am accepting your congratulations?"

  "Either."

  Because I saw you, so gallant in your suffering, and I realized that contrary to what I'd thought all my life, I was capable of love.

  The thought made Annabel's breath catch, until she felt so dizzy she had to support herself against the wall. “I left him on December eighth last year,” she said.

  "That's the day we buried my father,” Danville Lewis told her.

  "I know. I was there.” Annabel met his eyes again. “I decided not to go home afterward. I never went back again."

  He contemplated her with disdain. “I didn't see you there."

  "I stayed in the back. I didn't think I'd be welcome."

  "That's one thing you were right about.” He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward Annabel. “You helped your husband. Gave him an air of respectability that allowed him to take people in."

  Annabel's chin rose. “I had nothing to do with it. I left my husband when I found out what he'd done to you."

  "You expect me to believe that?"

  Annabel pushed her body away from the wall and took a small step forward. She had to break through the barrier of hostility between them. She had to make him understand. Otherwise true happiness would never be hers. “I'd always known that Carl was a bastard. But it was the first time the victims had faces other than my own. I realized it was possible to stand up to him."

  "Why did you marry him?"

  Annabel shrugged, uncertain herself now, through the passage of time. “I was young and foolish. Marriage was the only thing I was trained for, and Carl can be charming when he tries. I didn't realize he wanted to merge with Pittsburgh Steel rather than marry me."

  "That's no reason to call him a bastard."

  "Two hours after the wedding ceremony Carl found out that my grandfather had no intention of cutting him a slice of the company. He threw it into my face, how he'd been tricked. I wanted to have the marriage annulled. I went to my parents, but they were against it. In my circles, the benefit of marriage is to get daughters out of the parental home."