Best of Temptation Bundle Page 3

“Perform in private?” he asked.

  She stiffened and slowly lifted her hands from the desk. Where had that come from? She tensed from head to feet, acutely aware that within the next few hours she would be sharing a room with the man across from her. A man who was awkward and nerdy, yet still a man. A very tall man. With large hands. And the capacity to say things that surprised her…causing a peculiar twinge in her stomach and an inexplicable awareness to hum through her at the most unexpected, inconvenient times.

  She pushed her words past her tight throat. “That’s certainly one way to put it.” She looked at her watch, disappointed to find her hand trembling again. “I have to get going so I can pack. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

  2

  WHATEVER HAPPENED this weekend, the assignment ended here.

  Adam stood at the curb in front of his West Edison condo, his carryall and briefcase resting at his wing-tip-clad feet. Five minutes ago, he’d had a heated discussion with John Weckworth, who thought it a bad idea for him to go through with Eva Burgess’s bizarre request.

  “What if she’s in cahoots with Sheffert?” Weckworth had asked. “What if she’s working with him and they’ve discovered you’re not who you’re supposed to be?”

  What if, indeed.

  Adam glanced at his watch, then rubbed his freshly shaven chin. It would be wise to keep Weckworth’s words in mind. Especially given the peculiar circumstances surrounding Oliver Pinney’s disappearance.

  Weckworth’s questioning of Pinney a month ago had been nothing but an ordinary inquiry. The firm had been in the middle of an open FBI audit and Pinney was in charge of those clients with shady connections to organized crime.

  But there had been nothing ordinary about Oliver Pinney’s behavior during the meeting. A weakness a pro like Weckworth knew exactly how to exploit. Two hours after the interview began, Pinney had cracked.

  “Sheffert will have me filed away permanently,” the high-strung junior accountant had told Weckworth. “He didn’t think I knew what he was doing. What he was having me do.” Beads of sweat had popped from every pore of Pinney’s pinched face. “He has one of the most sophisticated tax evasion and money laundering operations on the East Coast. It doesn’t matter where the money comes from, give it to him and he’ll have it squeaky clean and tucked neatly away in no time.”

  Then Oliver Pinney, the sole witness they had—the only evidence they had—had disappeared. The open audit was immediately closed without prejudice and Adam was sent in undercover.

  And now he was embarking on a weekend foray with a woman he barely knew. A woman he hoped held the key to breaking this investigation wide open.

  This little stint should be a piece of cake, nothing like other roles he’d played as a midwestern mercenary with a third-grade education and membership in every subversive group this side of the Mississippi. Still, the prospect of playing a paranoid revolutionary was preferable to acting as though he were a member of someone’s family. He’d be the first to admit that having no family of his own had made him a prime candidate for the FBI. He had no weak spots, no vulnerable wife, children, parents or siblings to put at risk.

  That fact also ill equipped him for the job ahead.

  Adam rolled his bunched shoulders. He’d go along with Eva’s plan, while working on his own agenda. His purpose—to get her to reveal, directly or indirectly, what her boss was up to. And if she was involved in Sheffert’s scheme? The thought bothered him. Well, if she was involved, it wouldn’t be the first time a woman had disappointed him.

  “Adam?” a familiar voice said. If only it were the familiar voice he expected. He bit back a curse.

  So much for his background not interfering with his job. He was going to have to be more careful from here on out.

  Stiffly, he turned to face his last indulgence. “What are you doing here, Julia?” he asked, glancing up the street. It was empty, though he doubted it would be for long. “I didn’t expect you. You should have called.” It wouldn’t do for Eva to see him talking to the red-haired, self-proclaimed bombshell. Especially since Julia had decked herself out for the occasion. He cringed at her red leggings and gold lamé top.

  She shrugged off his suggestion. “I really didn’t think a phone call was necessary.” She clutched an empty paper bag in her hands. “I’m just stopping by to pick up my things.”

  Adam was almost relieved. Almost. At least Julia didn’t harbor any illusions about them picking up where they’d left off.

  In any case, he didn’t have the time to deal with her now. Especially since he’d accidentally washed a couple items of clothing she’d left behind with his. A few pieces clearly marked Dry-Clean Only that now sat in a faded, shrunken mess in a small box in the bedroom closet.

  Julia gave him the once-over. “You remind me of a nerd I went to high school with.” She grinned and swung her hair over a freckled shoulder. “I hope I didn’t do that to you.”

  Adam nearly chuckled. “I really wish I could help you out, Julia, but I’m just about to leave on a business trip.”

  “That’s okay. Just give me the key. I’ll lock up when I’m done.” She waggled her fingers.

  Adam weighed his options: either deny Julia and risk having Eva see her and blow his cover, or hand over his keys and hope Julia would understand when she found her ruined clothes.

  Damn.

  A block up, a black Mercedes turned onto the street. He had no doubt it was Eva. Not the way his luck was running. In fact, he wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if the gray clouds in the dark sky opened up and drenched him.

  He handed over his apartment key.

  “Just leave the place the way you found it, okay? And give the key to my next-door neighbor when you’re done,” he grumbled, watching Julia sashay toward the apartment door.

  Just let me get out of here without incident.

  Eva pulled up to the curb. Aloud click told him she had unlocked the doors. He stowed his things in the back seat. A seat burdened with her attaché, a small tote and a pair of sandals, while clothes hung from a clip above a door window.

  Almost there.

  He opened the passenger’s door just as he heard the unmistakable sound of an apartment window sliding open. An object whizzed past his ear then landed with a thud behind him.

  “What did you do to my things?” Julia cried from the second-story window. “Do you know how much those clothes cost? You’re going to reimburse me every stinking penny, you rat!”

  Dodging what looked like one of his best Italian shoes, Adam cursed. He’d hoped he’d have more time before Julia found the box. Wishful thinking.

  It began to sprinkle.

  He quickly got into the car.

  “Don’t you dare go anywhere, you bastard!” Julia cried, sending a handful of clothing sailing through the air.

  Adam said hello to Eva then slammed the door. On second thought, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to give Julia free rein over his apartment. Lord knew what he’d find when he got back from Louisiana.

  He pushed his glasses up, watching a pair of red silk boxers float down to land on the windshield…directly in front of Eva’s shocked face.

  Adam opened the window and snatched the boxers from view. He stuffed the scrap of material into his pocket. Definitely not something a repressed accountant was sure to own.

  Eva leaned toward the windshield, flinching when another handful of clothes sailed through the air. “Who’s that?”

  “Who’s who?” Adam asked.

  Eva stared at him.

  “Oh, her. That’s my…neighbor.” Neighbor. Yeah, right. Where had he come up with that one? “She’s upset because her husband stayed at my place last night after an argument.”

  “Then those aren’t your things?”

  “What? The clothes? No, they’re her husband’s.”

  Eva’s gaze dropped to the silk spilling from his pocket.

  “He’s going to be surprised when he gets home, huh
?” He shoved the boxers farther into his pants pocket. “Nice car. Do they pay you that well at the firm?” The question was meant to distract. He knew her yearly salary down to the last dollar. And she could easily afford the car.

  She didn’t rise to the bait.

  “I was afraid you weren’t going to show,” he said, trying again.

  Finally, Eva’s gaze moved from his pocket to his face. “I was afraid I wasn’t going to show, either,” she said slowly, then shifted the car into Drive. “You changed.”

  It took a moment for Adam to realize she meant he’d changed his clothes. She slowly zigzagged through the garments littering the street, then made a turn at the first corner. Adam relaxed slightly. He glanced down at the plain brown slacks and short-sleeved white shirt he had on, nearly not recognizing himself.

  “Yes, I thought it would be more comfortable for the drive.”

  The farther away from the condo and the vengeful Julia they moved, the more in control Adam felt.

  “Drive?” Eva blinked at him. “We’re not driving. We’re flying. Didn’t I tell you?”

  He stared at her light green suit. She hadn’t changed, but somehow managed to look as fresh as she had that morning. A sharp contrast to the skintight, racy clothes Julia always wore.

  Adam pushed up his glasses, hiding his frown. He’d already worked out that an airplane was out of the question. Not a good idea to let Eva see him checking his pistol at the airport. “No, you didn’t tell me. If you had, I would have told you I can’t fly.”

  The suspicion in her eyes deepened. “I don’t understand.”

  “I suffer from a severe case of acrophobia.” Adam cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I guess I should have told you, you know, earlier when you asked me to go.”

  Eva touched her fingertips to her forehead. “Yes, you should have.”

  Adam examined the situation carefully. Better to act contrite. “If it’s too much of an inconvenience, you could take me back home.”

  Her worried expression told him she was considering it. Which didn’t work into his plans at all.

  “I’ll share responsibility for the driving, if you want,” he said. “We could reach Louisiana by early tomorrow afternoon.”

  Eva flicked on her turn signal and pulled into a gas station. He feared she was going to turn around, until she parked next to a pump. She told the attendant to fill the tank.

  Adam watched her grimace. “I guess we’re driving then, aren’t we?”

  He tried his best to look chagrined.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “We need to brief you on what my parents know about my husband, anyway. This will just give us a little more time to do it.”

  “Ex-husband.”

  He watched her wince. “Somehow I don’t think I should get used to using that term. At least not this weekend, if you know what I mean. It could cause some problems should I accidentally introduce you as my ex.” She toyed with the clip holding her hair firmly in place. “It also would negate the entire reason I’m taking you with me.”

  He nodded and, as an afterthought, secured his seat belt. That’s what geek Adam would have done the instant he got into the car. He suppressed the urge to sink into the soft leather seat. No matter how much he wished he and Eva Burgess were heading for a weekend rendezvous that included little more than that naughty bikini he kept seeing her in, he was still on assignment. And that meant staying in character.

  He cursed silently. Figures. He was with the first woman who had looks and an attractive mind and he had to act like the dork from hell. He lay his head against the headrest. How was he ever going to get close enough to break through her icy reserve this way?

  Silence reigned after she paid the attendant then drove toward Interstate 95. Rain pelted the windshield and she switched on the wipers, the rhythmic sound enticingly intimate as he breathed in the sophisticated scent radiating from her skin.

  He leaned closer to her, stopping a couple inches away from her neck. “What’s the perfume you’re wearing?”

  “What?”

  Adam slowly lifted his gaze from the alluring curve of her neck. “Your perfume. What’s the name of it?”

  She turned to stare at him. Her eyes widened fractionally, apparently in response to finding him so close. “I…I, uh, really don’t see where that’s any concern of yours, Adam. I thought I made it clear that…that I—”

  “That you have no interest in getting involved with anyone,” he finished for her. “I know.” He forced himself to draw back. It was enough for now to know he affected her with his nearness. “I’m not asking for personal reasons. Isn’t the name of your perfume something your husband would know?”

  “Oh.”

  Adam wished it were lighter so he could make out the blush that almost surely colored her creamy skin.

  “Normally, yes, I suppose it is something a husband would know,” she said carefully. “It’s Poison.”

  He fastened his gaze on the rain-drenched road before them. Poison. Her choice of perfumes was both fitting and frustrating. Fitting in the way that if someone got too close, she wouldn’t hesitate to use the verbal equivalent of venom to get rid of them. Frustrating because the scent was provocative and sensual, two descriptions he would have thought junior partner Eva Burgess would have avoided at all costs.

  He cleared his throat. “You said that as though your husband wasn’t exactly…normal.”

  With one hand, Eva tried to take off her right earring, softly cursing when she dropped a portion of it. “About my ex…well, he wasn’t institution material, if that’s what you mean. Then again, since I don’t have anyone to compare him with, I can’t exactly say whether Bill was a normal husband or not.”

  Adam scrambled to help her find the piece of her earring, figuring it was just the thing Adam-the-geek would do. His hand brushed the back of hers. She instantly pulled away.

  “Sorry,” he said quietly.

  Her skin was as he had imagined it would be: soft. Almost wickedly so. That didn’t surprise him. What did surprise him was its warmth. He’d imagined Eva’s chilly disposition would stretch to her skin. The contrast intrigued him, as well as made him wary. Who would have guessed nippy, professional Eva Burgess’s skin would be hot to the touch? Until now, he had imagined the many ways he could thaw her. He swallowed hard, realizing it might not be a matter of thawing her at all, but instead finding the perfect way to coax out her inner fire. To let it burn out of control and consume them both.

  Eva Burgess’s husband was institution material for leaving her.

  Adam shifted, suddenly uneasy in the comfortable seat. He reminded himself he knew next to nothing about the woman sitting beside him. And despite his brief forays into a fantasy world that made his assignment a little less dull, this was an assignment. He’d be better off if he kept that clearly in mind. A mutual…coming together with Eva was agreeable, but beyond that he had no room in his plans—personal or professional—for a serious relationship. Certainly not one where the word spouse was included.

  “So is that to be my name for the weekend? Bill?” he asked, clearing his throat. He sought and found the small gold backing in the carpet. He picked it up. “Here.”

  Without looking at him, she held out her hand, palm up. “Yes. My husband’s…ex-husband’s name is William Burgess. Bill to his friends.”

  Adam couldn’t resist brushing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of her palm. He could have sworn she shivered as she closed her fingers around the backing and drew her hand away.

  “Does he have many?” he asked. “Friends, I mean?”

  The headlights of an oncoming car illuminated her strained features. “I once thought I was one. His best, if you want the truth. Now, well, I guess I was wrong.” Eva said the last sentence so quietly, Adam wondered if he’d heard it at all.

  She tightened her hands on the steering wheel. “Anyway, yes, Bill has many friends. Comes with the job, he told me.” She glanced in Adam’s
direction. “He’s a broker.”

  “A stockbroker?” He’d focused his investigative skills on a few brokers in the past. At least he’d know how to emulate one.

  “Yes. He commuted from Edison to New York.”

  The rain started coming down in thick sheets and Eva switched on the brights. Adam stared out at the soggy onslaught. So his identity was to be Bill Burgess, stockbroker from New York, husband to Eva Burgess, who wore Poison. What was it like to be married to Eva? Not the junior partner of an accounting firm, but the woman? Adam found her face pale and tight as she concentrated on driving in the late-summer storm.

  “Do you want me to take over?” he asked as she slowed.

  She shook her head. “No, I’m okay. But I don’t think I’m going to be very good company for a while. At least not until we get out of this storm.” She gestured toward his door. “The seat tilts back. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? We’ll trade spots sometime around three.”

  Three. As in 3:00 a.m. Adam frowned. It had been a long time since he’d taken a road trip. He toyed with the buttons on his door panel until he got his chair where he wanted it. Then he lay back at a stiff angle, in a way consistent with his role. He noticed Eva’s small, secret smile as she stole a glance at him.

  Adam bit back a curse. Somehow this wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined their first date.

  FOUR AND A HALF HOURS later, the car slowed. Through narrowed lids, Adam watched Eva pull onto the shoulder of the Virginia highway. She flicked on the hazards and shoved open her door, racing through the steady rain toward the weeds at the side of the road. Adam sat up and watched her double over, her silhouette little more than a blur through the torrential downpour. Frowning, he snapped open the glove compartment. He took out a box of tissues, then sifted through the rest of the items. A brush, a couple of toll stubs and parking permits.

  Eva climbed back into the car. Adam shut the compartment then handed her a wad of tissues.

  “Looks like you and cars get along about as well as me and planes,” he murmured.

  If she’d been pale earlier, now she was downright white. The rain had loosened strands of hair from her French twist and they hung in wet silken threads around her damp face. She pushed them back. It was something Adam found himself wanting to do.