Taken Beyond Temptation

“First, I need to know that you’ll keep what I tell you in strictest confidence. Not a word—even to your brother. I don’t want to interrupt his holiday with Naomi, and I don’t want the Brightman sisters unnecessarily worried. Not until I know that I’m not just being paranoid.”

“If I think I need to tell my brother, I will. I can ask him to keep it from the sisters. But I can’t guarantee anything until I know what you’re going to tell me.”

There’d been a brief pause on the other end of the line. Then Avery had told him of the incidents plaguing Haworth House in the few weeks since Ian’s brother Dane had captured swindler Michael Davenport on the premises and the story of Haworth House’s resident ghost had received extensive coverage on the twenty-four-hour news channels.

First there’d been a breakdown in the air-conditioning system. Avery had chalked that up to bad luck and the cost of doing business.

Then there’d been the poisonous mushrooms that had nearly made it into the veal marsala, the restaurant’s signature dish. It was a young chef Reese had hired who’d recognized them and saved the day. Avery had had the mushrooms tested in a private lab. The good news was they wouldn’t have proven fatal. The bad news was that whoever had eaten them would have wished they had.

Then there’d been an incident when a guest had taken a tumble on the large stairway leading from the second floor to the lobby. Thankfully, the woman had only fallen down a few steps and suffered no more than a good scare.

But when Avery had discovered the remains of a thin wire he suspected someone had strung across the top step, he’d decided to call Ian.

After hearing Avery’s story, Ian had agreed with the hotel manager on three points. He was right to be concerned, it was too soon to tell if the incidents were related and, therefore, too soon to worry the sisters.

But when he’d offered to come and investigate further, he had to wonder if that hadn’t been related to his own desire to finally become a serious operative in the field. If he was going to be a true partner to Dane, he had to contribute more than tech support. And lately, research work could become a bit tedious and he’d begun to envy his brother’s more active side of the investigative business.

But keeping his investigation under wraps was going to be a challenge now that Jillian Brightman was on the island.

Good thing he loved surprises. And challenges.

As Jillian’s car disappeared from view, Ian returned to his SUV and started it up the hill to Haworth House. Thanks to the last case he and his brother Dane had worked on, he’d done some research on all three of the Brightman sisters.

Oddly enough, the women’s backstory had certain parallels with his and Dane’s. The Brightmans had lost their parents when they were very young and they’d been raised by nuns in a convent boarding school in the south of France. Dane and he had been nine and seven, their other brother four and their sister two when their mother’s sudden death from a brain aneurysm had brought social services down on them with a vengeance. Ian hadn’t seen any of his family after that until a year and a half ago when Dane had tracked him down at his analyst job with the CIA.

Since then, he and his brother had not only begun to appreciate the fact that they were related, but they’d also discovered that their talents meshed. He was the intellectual, Dane the man of action. Ian had left the CIA to go into the security and investigation business with his big brother.

The breakup of their family had been hardest on Dane. He’d been stuck in the foster care system. And although his older brother had been stingy with the details, Ian knew that he’d spent some time on the streets and that the reason Dane had turned to investigative work was because he’d vowed to eventually find and reunite his family.

Compared with Dane’s, his own experiences after he’d lost everyone had been a fairy tale. Within a year, he’d been adopted by a Catholic family who’d wanted to take in a third child after being blessed with two of their own. One of their sons was a year older, the other a year younger, and there’d been adjustments to be made on both sides. JoAnn, his mother, had never made him feel as if he was different or not really hers. But his adoptive father had been another story. Even at seven, it hadn’t taken Ian long to figure out the “rules.” He quickly learned to stay on the sidelines and not to compete or outshine either of his brothers. And he’d still managed to get into MIT and find a career path that he enjoyed. All in all, he couldn’t complain.

Now he had Dane back, and he shared his brother’s goal to find the rest of their family.

The Brightmans had been luckier in a way. They’d never been separated. And just recently Naomi, the oldest, and Dane had found each other. They’d met right here at Haworth House while Dane was on the trail of a world-class swindler, Michael Davenport. The instant Dane had seen Naomi, he’d taken a direct hit from cupid’s arrow, and ever since, Ian had seen little hearts circling his older brother’s head. Currently, Dane and Naomi were on holiday in France.

Good for Dane. It was about time. But a permanent relationship just wasn’t in the cards for Ian MacFarland. He knew from experience that building relationships required time and constant attention. He had enough on his plate. Getting reacquainted with his brother and figuring out how to be the right kind of partner in MacFarland Investigations required all of his focus.

As Ian turned his car into the driveway of Haworth House, he felt a little skip of excitement. He’d seen it on the Internet, taken the virtual tour provided by the Web site, but the place with its gray stone turrets and the tower that rose into the sunny blue sky was something to behold. To the right of the main entrance, he could see the terraced gardens and the maze that bordered them.

After alighting from his car and turning his keys over to a valet, Ian shouldered his duffel and entered the lobby. He spotted Avery Cooper behind the front desk. The tall, handsome man with the chocolate-colored skin had been Jillian’s college roommate, and the sisters had hired him to run Haworth House. It had been a wise decision in Ian’s opinion. In the years since he’d shared living quarters with Jillian, Avery had earned himself an MBA from Harvard Business School. And if the press was to be believed, business at Haworth House was booming.

Of course, the whole media blitz surrounding the arrest of Michael Davenport along with the rumors that the spirit of silent-film star Hattie Haworth had assisted in the swindler’s apprehension had helped.

The instant Avery spotted him, he shot Ian a smile; then he turned the man he was talking to over to an assistant and signaled Ian to follow him.

Avery waited until he’d ushered Ian into the private suite above his office before he spoke. “We’re in deep shit. Jillian arrived unexpectedly this morning.”

“Yes,” Ian said as he dropped his duffel. “I nearly ran into her on the road up here. We spoke briefly.”

Avery’s eyes narrowed on him. “You talked to her? She knows you’re here?”

“She knows I’m here. She doesn’t know who I am. The cars weren’t damaged—thanks to some pretty fancy maneuvering on her part. And she was in a great rush to get to Belle Bay, so we didn’t get to the exchanging names and insurance companies part. No need. We were fine. The cars were undamaged.”

Avery drew in a deep breath. “Please sit down. Would you like something to drink? Water, beer, wine? I usually know how to greet guests better than this.”

And that told Ian more than each of their previous conversations just how concerned Avery was about the series of unsettling incidents that had recently plagued Haworth House.

“Water would be great.”

He followed Avery into the kitchen of the suite and accepted the bottle of water the man retrieved from the refrigerator.

“Why is Jillian here?” Ian asked.

“She was supposed to return next week to close on a new property she purchased in Belle Bay. She plans on opening her own antique store there. But yesterday, a Colonel Jenkins called her and requested a meeting. He and his son are buying a string of small hotels along the Carolina coastlines. The places are in need of updating and they’re interested in hiring Jillian as a chief consultant. But first they want to see what she’s done with Haworth House. She changed her plans immediately. Haworth House is a testimonial to her talent. What you see in the lobby and the dining room, as well as the guest rooms—she designed it all. She searched for and acquired the antiques herself. When they get here tomorrow, the place will knock their socks off.”

As Avery talked, Ian noticed the admiration and the love in the man’s voice. The two had never been romantically involved, but Avery and Jillian had been friends for a long time. He knew from the original research he’d done that Avery had a long-term relationship with a man named Matt Trudell.

“So how do you want to handle this? Should I just tell her who I am and say I’m taking a little vacation?”

Avery frowned. “The first thing she’ll do is call Naomi. Then Dane will call you wanting to know why you’re really here. I’ve met your brother. He’ll probably want to cut short his trip and join you.”

The scenario Avery was painting was more than a strong possibility, Ian thought.

“I think we ought to go with your original idea,” Avery continued. “You’re a writer, and you’re here to research Haworth House. Your book will tell the true story of why Hattie settled here and why she remained a recluse all those years, etcetera, etcetera. It gives you a good excuse to ask questions and snoop around the place. I’ve already let some of the staff know, and they’re willing to talk to you.”

“Fine.”

Avery met his eyes. “There’s another reason I don’t want Jillian to know who you are and why you’re really here. This meeting tomorrow with the Jenkinses could be a huge turning point in her career. I don’t want her worried about something that may turn out to be nothing. Reese is filming her first TV show in L.A. Naomi is with Dane, and I’ve never seen her so happy. I don’t want any of them distracted if I’m just making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Got it.” Ian twisted the cap off his water bottle. Posing as a writer would be his first experience masquerading as someone else. It was a technique his brother Dane used all the time, and Ian was looking forward to the challenge.

“I don’t see a problem going ahead with our plan,” he said. “Jillian and I were two strangers meeting after an accident that didn’t happen. I’ll try to keep my distance, keep a low profile. If she asks, I’ll use the cover we’ve decided on.”

“In your favor, you don’t look like an investigator.”

Ian glanced down at his well-worn T-shirt, his threadbare jeans and grinned. “Dane says I’m going through a late rebellion stage. I worked five years behind a computer at the CIA in a suit and a tie.”

“Ah,” Avery said. “A research geek.”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

Avery’s booming laugh filled the room. “Hell, no. I’m an avid fan of Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan, and that’s what he was.”

Ian grinned. “I’m a fan of Jack’s, too.” He set his water bottle down. “Let’s say you’re not making a mountain out of a molehill. What do you think is going on here?”

Frustration flickered across Avery’s face. “All of the incidents so far seem to have been targeting the hotel. Some guests were upset when the air-conditioning system was off for a day, and it may have resulted in some bad word of mouth. But if the chef hadn’t discovered the poisonous mushrooms or if that woman had seriously injured herself when she took that tumble down the stairs, the publicity could have seriously damaged the reputation of Haworth House. The hotel could have taken a huge hit financially.”

Ian nodded. “So the Brightman sisters may have an enemy who is upset with their success.”