A HIGH STAKES SEDUCTION Read online

  “I slept fine, thank you.” Her words were clipped and terse. “I’d like to look at the receipts from your first two years of operation this morning.”

  “Of course.” The temptation to touch her was overwhelming. Normally he’d probably have done it without even realizing, but everything about her energy warned him to back off. “Have you had breakfast?”

  “Perhaps I could grab a roll or something from the dining room before I head up to your office.”

  “No need. I’ll have some food brought up.” He reached for his phone. “Tea or coffee?”

  “Neither, thanks. A glass of water would be fine.”

  He sneaked a glance at her as she pressed the elevator button. Shoulders tense and bag clutched in her hand, she looked as if she might explode. She probably didn’t want to risk ingesting stimulants. He could think of a few ways to help her relax, but none of them was appropriate in the circumstances.

  Maybe later, though.

  As they got on the elevator, he told one of the new kids who was interning for the summer to bring some eggs and toast and fruit up to the office. And a roll. And some juice and water. But even as he concentrated on ordering the food, he noticed how the enclosed space of the elevator felt strangely tight this morning, the atmosphere abuzz with...something.

  He followed her off the elevator, admiring the way she carried herself as she walked across the floor to his office. Then she stopped and frowned slightly.

  He gestured for her to open the door. “Head in and make yourself comfortable.”

  “Is there another office I can work in? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “The only way you could inconvenience me is by making me carry all the files out of my office and into another one.” He shot her a glance. “So you’ll do me a favor by working in here. I have things to do anyway, so I won’t be around much.” He hoped that would put her at ease.

  She put her bag down on the round table in the corner. “When did you say my car keys would be ready?”

  “Noon. And I’ll drive you over there to retrieve it.”

  “Again, I don’t want to put you to any inconvenience. Is there someone less...important who can drive me?” She was avoiding his glance as she moved toward his desk.

  “We’re all important here. It’s how we run the place. Every Nissequot has a crucial role to play and would be missed as much if not more than me. The cashiers will be hustling today, as we’re expecting twenty buses of retirees visiting from Cape Cod this morning.”

  “Oh.” Her brow wrinkled slightly as she reached for the pile of folders she’d pulled the day before. She bumped her elbow on a jar of pens, accidentally scattering them across the desk. He grabbed one just before it flew over the edge.

  Their fingertips brushed as he handed it back to her. Her hand flinched away as though she’d been stung. Somehow that only increased the tension snapping in the air.

  He shouldn’t have kissed her. She was here on business and was obviously very reserved and proper. She wasn’t looking to get her hands on him.

  Quite the opposite.

  Was that why he’d been irresistibly drawn to her? Was it the challenge of the seemingly unobtainable? There was something more, though. An energy that drew him to her. Something deep and primal. And when she’d folded into his arms and melted into the kiss...

  John turned his attention to the filing cabinet with the receipts she wanted. Something had happened between them and he didn’t know why. Unplanned and inappropriate, it had stirred his blood and left him wanting more.

  Just get rid of her as quickly as possible. His uncle’s words simmered in his brain. Sensible advice, under the circumstances. The way her movements snapped with precision and anxiety right now—fingers tapping on her keyboard and eyes darting across the rows of numbers on the papers she’d pulled from the files—she was rushing to get out of here.

  So it was all good, right?

  John frowned. Was he really the player the Massachusetts press made him out to be? Maybe he was. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” The innuendo wasn’t entirely intentional, but he enjoyed her hot-under-the-collar reaction. Shifting in her chair and fussing with her bag, she seemed tense enough to burst into flames.

  He’d be happy to help put out the fire. “The food should be here any minute, but maybe I’d better get you some water right now.”

  “Just some peace and quiet will be fine, please,” she muttered, without looking up. She pushed her glasses up on her nose with a fingertip. He noticed she wasn’t wearing nail polish.

  A smile sneaked across his mouth. He liked that she wasn’t afraid to be rude. A lot of people were intimidated by him, especially now that the millions were rolling in. It was refreshing to find someone who treated him as though he was a regular guy. “I’ll make myself scarce.”

  “Good.” She still didn’t look up.

  He chuckled as he removed himself from his own office. He could still taste that kiss on his lips. Constance had a surprising well of passion beneath her prim exterior, and he looked forward to tapping it again—whether or not that was a good idea.

  * * *

  Constance couldn’t wait to get her car back. Right now, sitting in the grand lobby of the hotel, she felt like a prisoner in John’s luxurious den of vice. Dressed in a silky garment she’d never have chosen, surrounded by people laughing and talking too loud and drinking before it was even lunchtime, she felt totally out of her element.

  Maybe her family was right and she should have tried to refuse this job. On the other hand, building a career depended on taking assignments that would enhance her profile in the company, and a contract from a big government agency was a feather in her cap. Luckily New Dawn’s files were well organized and the information straightforward, so she’d probably get her work done and be out of here within a week.

  She heard her phone chime and fished it out of her bag. The display revealed that it was Nicola Moore, her contact at the Bureau of Indian Affairs.

  “Hello, Nicola. I’m sitting in the lobby of the casino right now.” She glanced about, hoping the woman wouldn’t ask a lot of probing questions that would be embarrassing to answer right here.

  “Excellent. Are they allowing you access to the books?”

  “Oh yes, Mr. Fairweather—” even saying his name made her blush “—has given me carte blanche to go through all the files in his office. He has the original cash register receipts for every day since the casino opened.”

  “Do they seem legitimate?”

  “The receipts?” She glanced around, hoping no one could overhear their conversation. “They do. So far everything looks good.”

  There was a pause at the other end. “They think it’s a routine audit, but the reason we sent you is that we have good reason to suspect fraud. They may be giving you falsified documents.”

  Constance bristled. “I have considerable experience in examining retail operations. I know the warning signs, and rest assured I will closely examine anything that looks at all suspicious.”

  “John Fairweather has a reputation for charming everyone. Don’t be fooled by his suave manner—he’s a very sharp and cunning businessman.”

  Constance fumbled and almost dropped her phone. Could Nicola Moore somehow know that John had...seduced her last night? Impossible, surely! “I’m aware of his reputation,” she whispered. Where was he? She felt as if he was going to materialize beside her at any minute. “I am completely immune to charm and focused entirely on the numbers.” At least she certainly planned to boost her immunity to his charms from now on. That kiss last night had caught her completely by surprise, when she was overwrought and exhausted and emotional from the evening’s turmoil.

  “Excellent. I look forward to hearing an interim report. The New Dawn has attracted a lot of negative attention since it opened. You may have read some of the commentary in the press. We’ve been hearing plenty of whispers about their operation. No one can figure ou
t how they managed to open without taking on massive debt, or how they’re operating with such impressive profits. It doesn’t match the other models we’ve seen. Frankly, we’re assuming that something untoward is going on. Those numbers just can’t be real.”

  Constance frowned. She didn’t like that Ms. Moore already assumed a crime was in progress. She’d been surprised by the negative slant of some newspaper articles she’d read about the Nissequot and the New Dawn, too. John and the tribe seemed to attract the kind of backbiting usually reserved for successful celebrities. So far she hadn’t seen any evidence of wrongdoing at all. Of course it was only her second day, but still.... John seemed to be a concerned and thorough businessman and she was beginning to get annoyed by the relentless negativity about his success.

  Not that she had any interest at all in defending him, of course. That would be highly unprofessional. She prided herself on complete objectivity. But maybe everyone should be a bit more open-minded about the New Dawn’s management.

  She tensed as she saw John striding across the lobby toward her. You’d think an expensive suit would conceal the raw masculinity of his body, but it didn’t. Something about the way he moved made her pulse quicken and her brain start scrambling. Ridiculous! She was far above this kind of girlish reaction. She muttered quickly into the phone that she’d report back as soon as she found anything. Guilt made her fingers tremble as she ended the call.

  She stood and clutched her bag to her chest. “Ready?” Her voice sounded a little too perky.

  “Yup. A rep from the dealership has dropped off the new key, so you’ll be a free woman again in no time.”

  She smiled and carefully took the key he dangled from his fingers, without letting her skin touch his. “Thank goodness.”

  “You’re welcome to stay at the hotel, of course. There really isn’t anywhere else that’s convenient. The Holiday Inn is at least twenty minutes away, and that’s with no traffic.”

  “That will be fine.” Her words sounded clipped. Thank goodness there was another hotel! Staying here had proven to be an even worse idea than she’d suspected. Hopefully they could both forget completely about that insane lapse of judgment last night and get back to business.

  His gaze hovered over her mouth for a moment, and her lips parted. She sucked in a hasty breath. “Let’s go.”

  “Of course.” He held out his arm.

  She ignored it, gripping her bag tighter.

  He pulled his arm back with a rueful glance. Was he really flirting with her? He must be doing it to toy with her. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that a man like John Fairweather could actually be attracted to and interested in her. It must be a game for him, to see if he could get the prim little accountant all hot under the collar.

  She’d rather die than let him know how well it was working.

  In the front seat of his big sedan she pressed her knees together and forced herself to focus on the road ahead. Nothing good could come of watching his big hand on the manual gearshift, or noticing the subtle shift in his powerful thigh muscles as he pressed his foot on the pedals.

  “What a beautiful day. I can’t believe I lived in the city for so long and didn’t even think about what I was missing.” His low voice rumbled inside the car.

  Constance tugged her gaze from the smooth surface of the blacktop and tried to appreciate nature. Trees crowded the road on both sides, filtering the sun. “How come it’s all wooded? Why aren’t there farms, or, well, anything?”

  “Around the turn of the last century, this was all farmland, but it wasn’t close enough to the cities or fertile enough to be profitable, so it was all abandoned. So far suburbia hasn’t reached out here, either. If it wasn’t for the new highway exit, we’d still be in the middle of nowhere.”

  “But you grew up here?”

  “Yup.” He smiled.

  She squeezed her knees tighter together. It was just a smile, for crying out loud. No need to get all excited.

  “I couldn’t wait to get away. I thought this was the dullest place on earth. We had fifty dairy cows and I had to help milk them every morning and evening. Makes tabulating columns of figures look really interesting, let me tell you.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” She couldn’t imagine him milking a cow. “I thought that was all done by machines these days.”

  “It is. But someone has to hook them up to the machines.”

  “Do they mind? The cows, I mean.”

  “On the whole they’re pretty enthusiastic about it. I guess it feels good to lighten the load.”

  “And now you milk people foolish enough to gamble their hard-earned money.” She looked straight ahead. “You help lighten their heavy wallets.”

  He turned and looked at her. “You think what we do is wrong, don’t you?”

  “I’m hardly unusual in that.”

  “It’s entertainment. People have free will. They can come and gamble or they can go do something else.”

  His calm response only prodded her to goad him more. “Do you gamble?”

  He didn’t say anything. Silence hummed in the air until she got curious enough to turn and look at him. “No. I don’t.”

  “See?”

  “See what?”

  “You’re smart enough to know it’s a bad idea.”

  “I’m smart enough to know it’s not for me. Believe me, it’s already a gamble opening a big casino and hotel in the backwoods of Massachusetts when it seems like the whole world wants you to fail.”

  “I notice that you get a lot of negative press. But I don’t suppose it hurts that much, considering the money you’re making.”

  “You’re right about that.” He shot her another warm smile that made her toes tingle. She cursed them. “So far we’ve proved everyone wrong and I intend to make sure it stays that way.”

  “Why does the BIA want to investigate your accounts?” Was she allowed to ask that? She wanted to hear what he thought.

  He shrugged. “Same thing, I think. If we were deeply in debt to a bank in Dubai or the mob, or asking for a government bailout, no one would be surprised. They can’t accept that fact that we’re successful and prospering all by ourselves. It makes people suspicious.”

  “Why didn’t you need to borrow money?” There probably would have been no shortage of offers. Everyone wanted a piece of this juicy new pie.

  “I prefer to be in charge of my own destiny. I sold my software company for eighty million dollars. I’m sure you read about that.”

  “Yes, but why would you risk your personal fortune?”

  “It’s an investment, and so far it’s worked out fine.” She managed not to turn and look at him, but she could see his satisfied smile in her mind. It was really annoying how likable he was. And he didn’t gamble? She was having a hard time finding reasons to hate him. And if he wasn’t cheating, it made her job harder, because it sounded as if her contact at the BIA wouldn’t be happy until Constance found something.

  She’d expected them to return to the burned-out motel, but instead he pulled into a restaurant parking lot. Her white Toyota Camry sat off to one side, sparkling clean.

  “I had them wash it and bring it here. I didn’t think you’d want to see the wreck of the motel. It’s a mess over there.”

  “That was thoughtful.” She sneaked a glance at him but he was getting out of the car, not paying attention to her. “But why did they bring it here instead of the New Dawn?”

  Unused to the sandals, Constance stepped out onto what felt like shaky ground. At least now that she had her car back, she could go buy some more sensible clothes and book a room somewhere else. This time she might ask some pointed questions about fire safety. She didn’t know what would have happened if the motel hadn’t been equipped with alarms.

  “I made us a reservation for lunch here.”

  “What?” She glanced at the restaurant, which—with hanging baskets of lush flowers and elegant striped awnings—looked upscale and expensive. “No!
I couldn’t possibly. I need to go buy some...toiletries, and clothes. And I want to get more work done back at the office today.”

  The last thing she needed was to sit opposite John Fairweather over a delicious meal. She’d surely lose the last shreds of her sanity. And really, he had quite a nerve even suggesting it. She should report his behavior to her BIA contact.

  Except maybe she’d leave out the part about the kiss.

  She climbed into her car and put her bag on the seat next to her. The new key started the engine perfectly, and the brakes screeched slightly as she reversed out of her space too fast. She turned and headed for the exit. It wasn’t until she saw John—in the rearview mirror—staring after her that she realized how rude she’d just been.

  He was smiling slightly, as if he found the situation funny.

  Which made her speed away even faster.

  * * *

  Safely ensconced at the desk in her new room at the Holiday Inn, Constance called her boss’s office to let her know why she’d had to move, and ended up speaking to her friend Lynn, the office receptionist.

  “It’s a bummer that you live with your parents. I wonder if you can claim the loss on their homeowner’s insurance.”

  “I doubt they have any. Their insurance is faith in God. Even if they did, filing a claim would raise the premium.”

  “If the motel doesn’t offer compensation you could sue.”

  “I’d never do that.”

  “You’re too much like your parents. Living in the wrong century.”

  “I happen to like this century.”

  Lynn laughed. “Okay, okay. So how is it going with John Fairweather? Is he as gorgeous as he looks on the internet?”

  Constance shifted in her chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know you like to pretend you’re a nun, but I’m sure you can tell whether a man is good-looking or not.”

  “He’s okay looking, I guess.” That stupid smile inched across her lips again. Thank goodness no one was here to see it.

  “So, how old is he?”