Taken Beyond Temptation

“I’m going to change it into an antiques shop,” Jillian explained. “Haworth House has been a real showcase for me. Many of the guests have commissioned me to find similar pieces for them. So I thought it might be the right time to open my own retail store.”

As the three women left Discoveries, Molly said, “I didn’t expect you until next week.”

“I got a call from a Colonel Jenkins who wants to meet with me tomorrow at Haworth House. He and his son are opening a string of hotels and they’re interested in seeing what I’ve done. If he hires me as a consultant, it would be an amazing opportunity for me.”

“Colonel Jenkins,” Miss Emmy Lou said. “That wouldn’t be Colonel Sam Jenkins, would it?”

“Yes,” Jillian replied. “Have you heard of him?”

“If he’s the one I’m thinking of, he was born here on Belle Island. He’s Samuel Jenkins the second, I believe. His father died tragically here when little Sam was only about four years old. The family sold everything and moved away from the island then.”

“I’ll have to ask him about it tomorrow.” Jillian stopped in front of the bookstore and took out the key.

Her hand trembled slightly when she inserted it into the lock. The door creaked as it opened and she led the way in.

Dust motes danced in the rays of sunlight that streamed through the windows. The store was just as she’d remembered it—except that the furniture was gone and the bookshelves lining the walls were empty. “The Kellys told me this was originally someone’s home. And as soon as I pictured it that way in my mind, I knew this was the place for me. They kept the rooms intact. This must have been the front parlor. I’ll take some of the bookshelves down, but basically, I’m going to keep the house the same and furnish it with product.”

“Great idea,” Molly murmured. “It will be like turning the house into what it once was.”

Jillian drew them into the second room. “This must have been the original dining room. I figure I can furnish it that way at times or as a library, or even as a bedroom depending on what I have on hand.”

“The house dates back before my time,” Miss Emmy Lou commented. “Even when I was a little girl, this was a commercial store. I can do some research at the library.”

“That would be great.” Jillian opened the door to the kitchen, where she knew that the Kellys had offered tea or hot spiced cider to their customers. But she stopped short on the threshold. The room was in shambles—something, likely a sledgehammer, had been used to put huge dents in the cupboards and red paint had been tossed on three of the walls. On the other a clear message had been painted.

Get out while you still can.

HE’D BEEN RIGHT ABOUT one thing. Jillian Brightman moved fast. So fast that when she shot out of the old bookstore, Ian didn’t have time to avoid the collision. The impact was hard enough to send his cup of coffee flying and had him stumbling back a pace. At least he managed to grip her shoulders and steady both of them before they took a major pratfall.

She looked up at him, met his eyes. “You again.”

For a moment every thought drained out of his head. All he knew was that they were close—so close that he could feel her breath on his lips. And hers were moist, parted and barely an inch away. One taste.

She stepped back, and that sudden movement brought the rest of the world into focus for Ian. When he saw the raw fury in her eyes, he tightened his hands on her shoulders. “You all right?”

“Yes.” She drew in a deep breath and pulled free of him. “No.” Raising an arm, she pointed through the door of the store. “Someone just vandalized one of the rooms in my new store. I have to … I have to go.”

Dragging his gaze away from Jillian, he searched the faces of the two other women he’d seen enter the store with her. Both of them looked frightened and concerned. But they were giving him the once-over. He bet they’d be able to pick him out of a lineup.

Inwardly, he sighed. He was definitely going to have to get better at keeping a low profile. It was the second time today he’d been on a collision course with a woman who wasn’t supposed to know he was even here on the island.

And it was the second time in as many hours that he’d very nearly kissed her—this time on a public street in front of witnesses. Once again, she’d made him lose track of anything else but her. He definitely needed to work on his undercover skills.

The small brunette had a cell phone pressed to her ear. After pocketing it, she took Jillian’s arm. “I contacted Nate. He’s waiting for us at his office.” She held out a hand. “Give me the key.”

Jillian fished it out of her pocket and the brunette locked the front door of the store and passed it back.

“Nate will want to see the damage for himself, but we’ll go up to his office first and file a report.”

As the brunette led Jillian away, Ian found himself stifling an urge to go after her. She was going to the right place. He knew from the research he’d done for his brother that Nate Kirby was the current sheriff of Belle Island, following in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps. Dane had found the local lawman quite capable.

“You know Ms. Brightman?”

Ian jerked his gaze away from Jillian’s retreating back and found himself looking into a pair of intelligent brown eyes that were laced with worry.

“No. That is, we haven’t been formally introduced. This is the second time we’ve run into each other.” And he was going to have to stop doing that. “I’m a guest up at the hotel.”

The elderly woman nodded. “But I can see you’re worried about her. Nate Kirby is our local sheriff. He’ll know what to do about this.”

Was she trying to convince him or herself? “What happened in there?”

She frowned. “A nasty piece of business. It was in the kitchen. Someone bashed in the cupboards and threw red paint on three of the walls. It looked like blood.”

Ian’s stomach knotted.

“There was a message painted on the fourth wall. Get out while you still can.”

Ian glanced up the street. The urge to go to her was even stronger now. So was his gut feeling that she was in danger.

“Nothing like this happens in Belle Bay. And everyone here is grateful to the Brightman sisters. They’ve created an economic upturn for the whole community. I don’t understand why anyone would do something like this.”

In the next block, Ian could see that Jillian, in the company of the sheriff and the brunette, was on her way back. Time for him to exit stage left. He glanced back down at the older woman. He wanted to question her further. But maintaining a low profile was more important right now. “The sheriff is on his way. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine.” She held out a hand. “I’m Emmy Lou Pritchard. I run the library. And you’re?”

He studied her for a moment. A more seasoned operative would have made his getaway without giving away his name. He had a hunch he’d just been out-maneuvered by a librarian. He shook the hand. “I’m Jack Ryan.”

“Jack Ryan.” She beamed a smile at him. “Glad to meet you. You’ve made me feel much better about Jillian’s safety.”

4

“To YOUR NEW STORE.” Molly raised the glass of champagne the waitress had just poured. “To Memories. I love the name.”

Jillian touched her glass to Molly’s and sipped the wine. “Thank you so much for agreeing to have dinner with me tonight.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Right. Just keep the gratitude flowing my way. I get a free meal at the best restaurant on the island. Which also has the best view.”

The view was pretty good, Jillian thought as she followed the direction of her friend’s gaze. Although the open courtyard in the center of Haworth House didn’t offer the spectacular vantage that the second floor and the tower did, a wide stretch of the Atlantic was clearly visible through one of the arches. And the sight of the sun lowering into it—well, it was one of the reasons she’d fallen in love with Hattie Haworth’s retreat at first sight.

Molly lifted her glass again. “Plus, I get to drink champagne, I get an evening of girl talk. And what else?

Oh, yes, one of your sister Reese’s spectacular desserts. Clearly, you owe me big-time.”

“I do.” Jillian smiled at her over the rim of her glass. “Girl talk is exactly what I need tonight. And my sisters are currently otherwise engaged.”

“Naomi is happy with Dane, isn’t she?”

“Very.” Which was why Jillian didn’t want to call her. Her oldest sister, the person she’d always turned to for advice, deserved a little time to be something besides a big sister.

“And how is Reese?”

Jillian smiled. “Very busy and loving it. She’s filming the pilot for a cooking show in L.A., and the hope is that it will go into syndication. She’s close to getting everything she’s wanted since she was five. That’s when she pleaded with me to sneak her into the kitchen in the middle of the night so that she could bake a surprise birthday cake for Naomi.”

“You accomplished that in a convent boarding school?”

Jillian shrugged. “I was the risk taker in the family.” She supposed that it was her way of dealing with the confinement she’d always felt. “Naomi was the role model. Reese was the baby and had to be protected. So I was the one who could push the envelope. Most of the time I got away with it.”

“How was the cake?”

Jillian grinned. “Spectacular.”

Molly tilted her head to one side. “I’d say you’re still a risk taker. You’re the one who found this place and talked your sisters into buying it. Now you’ve bought your own store.”

Jillian glanced around. “We vowed when we were still together in school that we would one day start a business together. I knew the moment I walked through the front door that we were meant to make Haworth House our home base. But I never expected to buy a retail space so soon.”

Molly raised her glass again. “Let’s toast to the future success of Memories.”

Once they had, Jillian leaned back in her chair and toed off her shoes. “I haven’t had a second to breathe since I got to the island this morning. You’re relaxing me.”

Molly studied her friend. “Good. I’m not sure I’ve accomplished the same myself.” Setting down her glass, she reached to cover Jillian’s hand. “I’m so sorry about what you found in your store.”

“Nate did a good job of settling my nerves. He thinks the vandalism may be connected to another incident at the high school. I never thought I’d be grateful that some bored and mischievous teenagers decided to have a little fun. And luckily, it didn’t happen after I’d rehabbed the place. That would have been disheartening.”

Molly reached for her glass. “Nate is good at settling people.”

Something in her tone drew Jillian’s closer scrutiny. She knew that Nate and Molly had a history. “How is it going between Nate and you?”

Molly sighed. “It’s not going. At all. When he dumped me in high school, I thought I wouldn’t ever recover. But I did. I decided that I could do very well without him. And I did that, too. I went to New York, graduated from fashion school, and I was on my way to L.A.—I was going to fulfill my dream of dressing stars for the red carpet. Then Gram got sick. And when I came back,

I found that I hadn’t gotten over Nate Kirby at all. But he’s evidently gotten over me.”

“He said that?”

“In every way possible but words.”

“Have you asked him?”

Molly shook her head. “Too chicken. Words are so final. And I’ve never forgotten the ones he said to me at our senior prom when he took back his class ring. It’s over, Molly.”

Jillian opened her mouth, then shut it. Words were final. And what right did she have to offer advice to anyone? She certainly didn’t have a knack for developing long-term relationships with men. She couldn’t even figure out what to do about the stranger she kept running into. She couldn’t seem to avoid him.

Once she’d returned to the hotel, she’d filled Avery in on the vandalism at her store, and then she’d done a dry run of the tour she was going to give Colonel Jenkins on the following day. Mr. Hunk seemed to be everywhere. Once or twice she’d caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, and each time her system had gone into overdrive. When she’d been in the bar, she’d turned and found her gaze directly locked with his. For a moment, her mind had gone completely blank—just as it had when she’d plowed into him in front of the bookstore.

It had been like running into a rock—except that her skin had burned at each contact point. And she’d had to fight to hang on to where she was going, what had just happened. All she could think about was him, and whenever she did.

“Men,” Molly said.

No, it was one man, Jillian thought as heat churned in her center. And it was happening again. She could feel him. He was watching her right now.

Molly’s eyes narrowed on her. “What?”

Jillian pitched her voice low. “Keep it very casual, but I want you to look over my shoulder and tell me what you see.” Then she waited while Molly’s gaze slipped beyond her and then back. Nothing registered on the other woman’s face.

Molly lifted her wine, sipped, then said, “There’s a drop-dead-gorgeous man standing on the balcony—second floor. I think it’s the same hunk you ran into when we raced out of the future Memories.”

“I knew it,” Jillian said. “He’s watching me.” Then because she couldn’t help herself, she twisted around in her chair and met his eyes. Big mistake. That was the one errant thought that tumbled into her mind even as her heart gave that now-familiar thud, and her throat went dry. Heat wasn’t the only thing she felt. Laced through it was an achy need that tempted her to get up, leave the table and go to him. Just go to him.

Baffled, she gripped the arms of her chair. But she couldn’t find the will to drag her eyes away.

“Should I call Nate and have him make an arrest?”

The sound of Molly’s joking voice caught her just as she was about to lever herself out of her chair. To do what? Go to his room? That possibility gave her the strength to jerk her gaze away from the stranger and back to her friend. “No.”

She felt breathless as if she’d just run to the top of a very steep hill. And nearly jumped off.

She moistened her lips, keeping her eyes on Molly even as she felt him turn away. “He’s a guest here. I just can’t seem to stop … running into him.”

“And that’s a problem because?”

Jillian hesitated. Maybe talking about it would put what she was feeling—what he made her feel—into some kind of sane perspective. “I’m attracted to him.”

“I got that much. For a second there, I thought you were going to leave me flat. Not that I would have blamed you. How long have you known him? ”

“That’s just it. I don’t know him.”

Molly lifted her glass. “Tell me everything.”

She told Molly about their near collision on the hillside and then what had been happening all day. “There’s no reason for what I’m feeling.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “I’ve only seen him twice—and my mind wasn’t really on it right after we’d seen the mess in the bookstore—but I think I could come up with quite a few reasons. If I weren’t so stuck on a certain sheriff, I’d consider putting myself on a collision course with Mr. Hunk. What’s his name by the way?”

“I don’t know.”

Molly tilted her head to one side. “You don’t know his name and you’ve got the major hots for him.”

Jillian swallowed hard. “That would be it in a nutshell.”

Molly spread her hands. “Well, there’s an explanation for it.”

Jillian’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Part of the reason he’s so attractive to you is because he is a stranger.”

“And you know this because?”

“I didn’t just take fashion courses in college. My minor was women’s studies. Being swept away by a stranger has been a classic fantasy for women for ages.”

“A fantasy.” Jillian’s stomach plummeted. Her throat went dry.

She thought of the fantasies she’d had at fourteen. There’d been reasons then why she’d wanted to be swept away. But that was then. This was now. “Why would a woman want to be swept away by a stranger?”

“The fantasy has remained popular because it takes away all responsibility and fear of judgment for the woman. It boils down to really good sex without any of the morning-after and relationship worries.”

Jillian reached for her glass and took a healthy swallow of champagne. “Well, it’s not my fantasy.”

Molly studied her for a moment. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

Jillian thought of the fantasy box. Choose carefully. What you draw out will come true. “I came here to Haworth House to work.”

Molly smiled. “You know what they say about all work and no play?”

STANDING JUST INSIDE his room, Ian was able to keep his gaze on Jillian in the courtyard while he waited for Avery to join him.

He’d lingered in Belle Bay until she’d finished with the sheriff, and keeping a discreet distance, he’d followed her back to the hotel. She’d spent the first hour after her return closeted with Avery. He’d used that time to scope out the hotel, something that he’d postponed when he’d decided to head into Belle Bay.

He didn’t regret his decision to follow her into the village. He’d let Avery know his intention before he’d left, but they hadn’t had a chance to do more than set up this meeting since he’d returned.

For the remainder of the afternoon, he’d done his best to keep her in sight while he stayed out of hers. Not that he’d been successful. Though they hadn’t actually physically collided or even had a near miss, she’d seemed aware of him several times.

After she’d talked to Avery, she’d spent the rest of the afternoon touring all the public rooms of the hotel and furiously jotting notes on a pad. Once when she’d been in the hotel bar, their eyes had met briefly before he’d taken a stool and ordered a beer. Another time, she hadn’t turned, hadn’t even given him a glance, but he knew that she’d sensed him by the way her back had stiffened.

Just as it had only moments ago when he’d stepped out onto his balcony. And before he could step back out of sight, she’d turned and met his gaze. He’d felt the impact slap into him with the power of a punch. Heat had seared through his system and ignited a fiery churning in his gut. For a moment everything else had faded except the desire to go to her. He wasn’t even aware that he’d moved until he bumped into the balcony railing.

And it wasn’t until she’d turned back to her friend that he’d blown out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. No one—nothing—had ever pulled at him the way she did. Sure, he could rationalize the decision to follow Jillian around all day instead of interviewing hotel staff. The vandalism at her store could be connected to what had happened at the hotel. But when it came to what he’d been feeling a few moments ago, what he was still feeling now—he couldn’t figure that out at all.

He glanced at the balcony railing. When she’d turned and met his eyes, his hands had closed around it. What had he been planning to do? Climb over it and drop to the courtyard below?

There was definitely something about her—a connection—that he’d never felt with another person before. Not even with family. Perhaps that was why she had such a heightening effect on his senses.

Earlier in town when he’d parked his car, he’d felt her gaze on him before he’d seen her out of the corner of his eye. And when she’d run out of the bookstore and nearly knocked him off his feet, he hadn’t wanted to let her go. He’d very nearly kissed her right there in the middle of Main Street. While he was supposed to be keeping a low profile.

His training in tailing someone had been limited to what he’d seen in movies and read in novels. And those fictional guys seemed to have a lot more luck than he was having. Sooner or later, she wasn’t going to ignore him. As far as he could see, practicing avoidance wasn’t in Jillian Brightman’s nature. She took life on at full tilt. And he wasn’t going to be able to avoid her. He could hardly do what he’d been asked by hiding away in his room.

When she did finally confront him, the results would be … interesting at the very least. She’d have questions and he’d have to come up with answers. He’d just have to make sure that nothing interfered with his protecting her.

Because he had a nagging feeling in his gut—the one he’d always gotten when he was pulling a good research thread—that Jillian Brightman was in danger.

The knock on his door had Ian striding forward and opening it.

Avery entered, his usually beaming smile absent, and walked straight to the open balcony doors. “So what’s your take on what happened in the village?”

“I’m not sure I have a ‘take’ yet. But I have worries.”

“And here I was hoping you’d ease some of mine.” He turned back. “I promised I’d join Jillian and Molly for coffee. That should give us half an hour. One of the bartenders is keeping an eye on them.”

Ian gestured Avery into a chair and sat down on the couch. “Why don’t you tell me what your take is.”

“I want to think that the vandalism in her store was totally unrelated to what’s happened here. The sheriff told her it may be a random act. A prank by some kids. School’s out, and a few of them have been busy decorating the water tower by the high school with graffiti. So they see an empty store …”

“Is the sheriff aware of the incidents that have occurred here?” Ian asked.

“No. I only called you.”

“Did Jillian describe what was on the walls to you?”

Avery waved a hand. “She told me the cupboards had been bashed in and paint thrown against the walls. She was stingy with the details.”

“The two of you are dealing with the same problem. You don’t want to worry her. She doesn’t want to worry you. I got my description from Emmy Lou Pritchard right after they’d discovered it.”

Avery stopped, turned to stare. “You were there?”

“Johnny-on-the-spot. Although I didn’t intend to be smack in front of the bookstore when they came running out. I’d been keeping my eye on Jillian. When she came out of Discoveries, Molly and Miss Pritchard were with her. I kept my distance and when they went into the bookstore, I stepped into the real estate office across the street and made the acquaintance of Vivian Thorley.”

“Our local real estate star. Ever since she sold Haworth House to the Brightman sisters, her business is booming. Rumor has it that she’s tripled her income, and she’s riding the wave. She wines and dines her clients here and uses the place as a selling tool.” Avery’s lips twitched. “I hope she didn’t talk you into signing anything.”

“No. But her hopes were high. I could see dollar signs in her eyes until I introduced myself as Jack Ryan. Once I gave her my cover story, her megawatt smile dimmed and she eased me out the door. I guess she figured a struggling writer wasn’t about to buy an expensive beach house. After that, I started to walk up and down the street in front of the bookstore, and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time when the three women came out. According to Miss Pritchard, there was a message on the wall. Get out while you still can.”

“Shit,” Avery said. “Jillian wasn’t here when the other incidents occurred. But that sounds personal.”

“Seems to be. Graffiti on a water tower is public—urban art. This was more private.”

“What is going on here?” Avery asked.

“I’m not sure yet. And I could be overreacting. You should know that my job at the CIA was always to hypothesize worst-case scenarios.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Avery murmured.

“I can tell you that I’m thinking of calling in backup. I have a friend. Cody Marsh. He used to work as a field operative for the CIA. He left the agency a few years back and he’s working freelance on his own. He picks and chooses his cases, but this one will probably intrigue him. I could use him for research the way Dane has used me since we hooked up. I can’t be sitting at my laptop and keeping my eye on Jillian at the same time.”