A High Stakes Seduction

“I can’t believe I suddenly feel like I have to warn you off having an affair with John Fairweather.”

“I can’t believe it, either.” And I also can’t believe how much I need warning off! “Obviously you’ve forgotten that I’m the same Constance Allen who’s only ever dated one man.”

“Well, as soon as you get home I’m going to make sure you start dating someone new. When do you get back here, anyway?”

“It’ll probably take a week or so. The BIA said I can request more time if I need it. It all depends on what I find.”

“I hope you find something. That’s always good for business.”

“You’re actually hoping that a crime is in progress?” Constance’s gut clenched at the possibility. “I’m hoping that everything checks out fine. Then I can get out of here as soon as possible.” And preserve what was left of her dignity.

Four

She picked up a couple of suits and blouses and a pair of shoes at a local Macy’s. It was nearly four by the time she made it back to New Dawn to go over the books. Her eyes darted about, on high alert for any signs of John Fairweather. But she didn’t see his imposing form anywhere. He wasn’t in the lobby or the elevator. Or leaning over someone’s cubicle on the office floor.

He also wasn’t in his office, where she sat at the round table, which was inconveniently at coffee table height, and resumed her journey through the files. Where was he? He might be angry that she’d blown him off at lunch. Still, he needed to realize that she was here to do a job, and they’d already spent way too much time together. It would probably be more appropriate to the situation if they weren’t interacting at all. On the other hand, her BIA contact had said that often the best information came during an inadvertent slip in casual conversation, so she should spend as much time as possible with the tribal members.

She shook her head. This whole situation was far too confusing for her. Just the fact that Lynn could encourage her one minute and warn her off the next proved that nothing about it made sense. She’d rather be surrounded by quiet and predictable columns of figures.

Which, supposedly, she was right now. Unfortunately the atmosphere vibrated with the absence of John Fairweather.

Constance stayed until seven-thirty and pored over the files he’d shown her and plenty he hadn’t. Nothing aroused her suspicion. If anything, John’s accounting methods were somewhat redundant and labor-intensive, and could benefit from some streamlining and a software upgrade.

Relief mingled with disappointment as she descended to the lobby without encountering him. Apparently he’d already forgotten about her and moved on to new pastures. He was probably out on the town right now with some willowy model.

She strode through the lobby, challenging herself not to look around for him. Why did she want to see him? All he did was get her flustered. As Lynn had pointed out, he was a notorious playboy and Constance was peering behind the curtains of his successful operation.

Still, it had been nice of him to personally bring her to the hotel last night, and to pick up her car this morning. On the other hand, if he had her car moved, why hadn’t they brought it right to the hotel instead of to some expensive restaurant, where he had apparently intended to continue his inappropriate seduction?

She made her way through the parking lot to her car, brain spinning. Was she upset that he wasn’t here to flirt with her and harass her? She should be appalled and disgusted—and suspicious—of his attempts to seduce her. Red flags stuck out of this mess in every direction. Her career at Creighton Waterman would be ruined, and she could lose her accounting credentials, if anyone learned about that kiss. Yet she’d as much as told Lynn that she was attracted to John.

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