Twice the Temptation

“It’s a little extra for reuniting me with my old girlfriend.”

Eli’s expression brightened. “If that’s the case, then I’ll humbly accept your mid-year bonus.”

Backing away from the table, the men walked out of the restaurant, going in opposite directions. Rhett walked back to where he’d parked his car. Instead of driving to the hotel, he headed in the opposite direction. A quarter of an hour later, he maneuvered into the parking lot across the street from New Visions Childcare.

“How long will you be gone?” the attendant asked.

“Less than half an hour,” Rhett said, handing the man the keys to his late-model Mercedes Benz sedan.

Crossing the street, he opened the door to the one-story brick building and walked into a reception area. Recessed lighting illuminated the space with a warm glow while the calming green paint with an alphabet border added a festive touch. Rhett had also noticed several security cameras were positioned inside and outside the facility.

A young woman sitting behind a glassed partition was on the phone arguing with someone who wanted to pick up a child, but didn’t have authorization. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hawkins, but rules are rules. If you submit official documentation from the court, then we’ll be able to release your son to you. You have a good day, too.” She stuck out her tongue at the telephone console before realizing someone was watching her.

Rhett smiled as she slid back the glass. “I’m here to see Ms. Denise Eaton.”

The receptionist, who had long airbrushed nails, gave him a bored look. “Is she expecting you?”

“No, she isn’t. Can you please let her know Garrett Fennell would like to see her?”

“Ms. Eaton usually won’t see anyone without an appointment.”

“I’m certain she’ll see me.” There was a ring of confidence in the statement.

“What’s your name again?”

“Garrett Fennell.”

He stared at the woman’s long nails, which reminded him of talons, as she tapped the buttons of the telephone console, and spoke quietly into her headset. She pushed another button. “Please have a seat, Mr. Fennell. Ms. Eaton will be with you shortly.”

Rhett sat on a decorative wrought-iron back bench and thumbed through a magazine from a stack on a low side table. He smiled at the picture of an infant staring back at him on the glossy cover. Flipping through the magazine, he found an article about coping with temper tantrums. Halfway through the article, the receptionist told him Ms. Eaton was now available to see him.

He walked toward the door with a sign that said you had to see the receptionist before being buzzed in. He pushed open the door when the buzzer sounded, coming face-to-face with a very different Denise Eaton.

Chapter Four

When Denise left Rhett standing on the curb, she hadn’t expected to see him again until Saturday. Less than twenty-four hours later he had surprised her again.

“Have you come to renege on our deal?”

Denise had spoken so softly Rhett had to strain to hear what she was saying. “Is that what you want?” he asked. “You want out?”

“Did I say I wanted out?” Denise found it hard to breathe. She was standing in a hallway, less than two feet from Rhett Fennell, whose presence seemed to suck the air from her lungs. She lowered her gaze rather than let him see her lusting after him. And that was exactly what she’d fantasized about the night before. She’d gone to bed thinking of Rhett, which was enough to trigger an erotic dream. When she awoke, it was to a pounding heartbeat and a pulsing between her legs that left her wet and moaning in frustration.

“Come to my office, and we’ll talk.”

Denise had invited Rhett to her office when what she’d wanted was to show him the door. They had struck a deal to see each other on weekends only.

Rhett noticed the gentle sway of Denise’s hips in a pair of black cropped stretch pants. He knew she was tense because her back was ramrod straight and both hands at her side were balled into fists. The casual slacks, sleeveless white blouse and black sandals with a wedge heel made her look more approachable than she had the night before. The blue dress reminded him of an ice queen—look but don’t touch. And he hadn’t touched her except to cradle her elbow.

Even her hairstyle was different. Instead of the bun, which he’d found much too severe for her age and delicate features, a narrow headband pulled her glossy curls off her face. When they were in school together she’d always worn a short hairstyle.

Rhett felt the flesh between his thighs come to life when the image of her hair spread across his pillow popped into his head. Just as quickly, it went away, leaving him breathing heavier and with an ache in his groin. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. Fortunately for him, Denise was in front of him or she wouldn’t have been able to miss his hard-on straining against his fly. As surreptitiously as he could, he buttoned his jacket, concealing the bulge.

“How much work did you have to do to this place before you were able to open?” He had to talk. Say anything to keep his mind off Denise’s slim, yet curvy body. They walked past closed doors to offices for the center’s social worker, dietician and business manager. Nameplates identified each person and their position.

Denise slowed when she came to an open area with eight round tables, each with seating for six. As in the reception area, she’d decided against chairs, opting instead for benches. Several skylights, potted plants, ferns and ficus trees provided a parklike atmosphere.

“Not too much,” she threw over her shoulder as she opened the door to her office. Her name and position were etched on the nameplate affixed to the door. “The contractor had to patch up a few holes before he could paint. The previous owner had replaced the roof three years ago, so that saved me at least thirty grand.”

Stepping aside, Denise let Rhett precede her into the room that at one time had been her second home. She’d come in at dawn to let the workmen in and occasionally slept on an inflatable bed she’d put away in a closet. The center was equipped with three full bathrooms, each with a shower and two half-baths in the nursery and classrooms for children, ranging in age from two to five.

“Please sit down, Rhett.” Denise gestured toward a love seat in a soft neutral shade. She sat in a matching one facing him. She crossed one leg over the other, bringing his gaze to linger on the rose-pink polish on her toes. “Would you like something to eat or drink? We’ve just finished giving the children their lunch, so the kitchen is still open.”

“No, thank you. I just ate.”

He glanced around Denise’s office. It reflected her personality with plants lining a window ledge. Her desk was an old oak top from another generation, a Tiffany-style desk lamp, a fireplace mantel filled with different size candles. Three of the four walls in her office were brick, the remaining one covered with framed prints of children from around the world.

Denise stared at Rhett through lowered lashes. To say he looked delicious was an understatement. Today he wore a dark blue suit with a maroon-colored silk tie and white shirt. He looked nothing like the college student who’d favored jeans, pullover sweaters or sweatshirts. At that time, Rhett owned just one suit, which he only wore on special occasions.

“How old is that desk?”

Rhett’s question caught Denise off guard. She didn’t know why he’d come to the center, but she was willing to bet it had nothing to do with the furnishings. “It’s quite old.”

He smiled. “How old is quite old?”

“I’m not selling it, Rhett.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Why don’t you wait for me to make an offer.”

“Offer all you want, I’m not selling.”

Rhett angled his head, staring at the antique desk. “Have you had it appraised?”

She nodded. “Appraised and insured. It belonged to my grandfather who got it from a client who’d lost all of his assets in the crash of ‘29. The desk and several other pieces of furniture were payment for a criminal case my grandfather had taken on and won for him. My father inherited it from his father. He gave up his practice once he was appointed to the bench, and I quickly put in my bid for the desk.”

“Who else wanted it?” Rhett asked.

“Every lawyer in the family pulled out their check-books, claiming it should go to someone practicing law, not a schoolteacher.”

“Ouch,” Rhett drawled, smiling. “That’s definitely a shot across the bow.”

Denise sucked her teeth. “Yeah, right. I was quick to tell them the desk belonged to my father, and as his baby girl I was entitled to it.”

“No, you didn’t pull the baby-girl card.”

“Whatever works, Rhett.”

He sobered. “Speaking of whatever works, I’d like you to give me a tour of the facility.”