Taken Beyond Temptation. Cara Summers
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to kiss her. For an instant while the soft curves of her body had been pressed against him, the desire to taste her had become so urgent, so overwhelming that he hadn’t thought of anything else.
Certainly not the possible repercussions.
The question was why? He’d researched the Brightman sisters, so why hadn’t he been more prepared for the impact Jillian would have on his senses? Perhaps because the image on her Web site, one that he’d returned to study more than once, didn’t even begin to do justice to the woman. Oh, it had done a fair job of replicating the large blue eyes, the tumble of gold curls and the pixielike features that could have belonged to Peter Pan’s Tinker Bell. But it hadn’t even begun to capture the energy the woman radiated in person. Jillian Brightman in the flesh had been more than he’d anticipated.
She moved as fast as she drove. He recalled how quickly she’d gotten out of and back into the car. Then there’d been that moment when she’d looked right into his eyes. He hadn’t expected the little punch he’d felt right in his gut. Nor had he expected the almost instantaneous emptying of his mind.
She’d surprised him in more ways than one. Ian’s lips curved into a smile. She wasn’t even supposed to be on the island for another week. And the fact that she was might complicate the job he’d come to do. Avery Cooper, the hotel manager who’d contacted him, had stressed that the investigation he’d been hired for had to be done incognito.
Ian recalled Avery’s initial phone call. The first thing out of the man’s mouth had been, “This is Avery Cooper. You may know who I am?”
“I do,” Ian had said.
“Are you as good an investigator as your brother?”
“Hopefully. I don’t have as much field experience as Dane does.” It was something that Ian dearly wished to rectify. “What do you need?”
“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