The Tempted. Amanda Stevens
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eldest son, to assume his rightful place in the company. And then there was the endless competition with his younger brother—it had all become overwhelming.
Jared had been restless that afternoon, in desperate need of a diversion. And just like that, there she was. A sun-kissed Eve, tempting and beguiling, skinny-dipping in his swimming pool.
Tanned and slim, her golden-brown hair trailing like a mermaid’s behind her, she glided through the water like a dream. She didn’t have a stitch on, but she seemed completely oblivious to her blatant sexuality.
Who was she? Jared wondered as he watched her from the French doors that looked out on the pool. And what was she doing trespassing on private property?
Not that he cared, of course.
When she turned and floated on her back, he saw that she’d pilfered one of his mother’s prized roses and brazenly tucked it behind one ear.
Opening the French door, he stepped out on the patio. She didn’t appear to hear him, but floated serenely on the water, eyes closed.
“Hello there.”
She gasped, sank, swallowed water, then began to flail wildly. Finally getting her balance, she plunged lower into the water, covering her breasts with her hands. “I…thought everyone was…gone,” she managed to sputter.
Jared grinned. “Obviously.” He walked over and picked up a towel from one of the patio tables and offered it to her.
It took her a moment to regain her composure, but she did so admirably. She gave him a cool, reproving look. “Turn around, please.”
Jared complied. Behind him came the sound of splashing water as she swam to the side and hitched herself out of the pool, then grabbed the towel from his hand.
“You can turn back around now.”
Swathed from neck to knee in white terry cloth, she lifted her chin defiantly. “I suppose you’re going to tell my mother about this.”
“Tell your mother?” How could he, when he didn’t know who she was or where she lived? On the Eden side of the lake? Most of the locals did. The north side was reserved for vacation homes and exclusive estates owned mostly by out-of-towners, and was sometimes derisively referred to as Sin City by the locals.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” she challenged.
“Should I?”
“I’m Tess.”
“Tess?”
A look of annoyance flickered across her features. “Joelle Granger’s daughter. You remember Joelle, don’t you? Your housekeeper?” She said it almost as a jeer, as if she was chiding him for something other than his faulty memory.
Joelle had served him breakfast on the patio just that very morning, so, of course, Jared remembered her. But he also remembered her daughter as a scrawny kid with wild, curly hair and braces. This couldn’t be Tess.
“My God,” he said incredulously. “When did you grow up?”
She shrugged. “Oh, let’s see, I think it was just after you left for your Ivy League education up north. Harvard, wasn’t it? I guess you didn’t get back down here to the sticks very often after that. Except for the wild party you threw one New Year’s Eve that my mother and I had to clean up after.”
He winced at the censure in her tone. “Sorry,” he muttered, not knowing exactly what to say in the face of her animosity. “You were paid for your services, weren’t you?” He knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment the words left his mouth, and sure enough, her expression darkened.
“Oh, of course. We’ve always been well paid for our services, Mr. Spencer.”
“Call me Jared.”
“That wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Why not?”
She gave him a withering look. “Because my mother works for you.”
“She works for my parents. That doesn’t have anything to do with you and me.”
“Sure it does.” She picked up her clothes.
“Wait,” Jared said impulsively. “Don’t go yet.” He hadn’t met a girl he’d found this interesting in ages.
“I have to go. My mother sent me over here to make sure the house was locked up after everyone was gone. But since you’re here, you can look after things yourself. You don’t need me.”
You’re wrong, Jared thought. He did need her. He hadn’t been a bit lonely until she showed up, but now the prospect of spending the evening alone…without her… “Look. We’ve obviously gotten off on the wrong foot here. Stay, and let me make it up to you.”
“How?”
“We could just hang out for a while. There’s no one here but me. I could fix you dinner, wait on you for a change.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And what would you expect in return?”
He hesitated a fraction too long. The towel she’d been clutching slipped a bit, and Jared’s gaze dipped.
When she saw the direction of his stare, her face flushed bright pink. “In your dreams, buddy.”
“Hey,” he said to her retreating back. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
She turned at that.
He nodded toward the soggy rose that still clung to her hair. “You’ve trespassed on private property and stolen one of my mother’s prized roses. Serious crimes that usually entail dire repercussions. But if you stay and have dinner with me, we’ll just forget all about it.”
She gave him a hard, measuring look. “There are two things you need to know about me, Mr. Spencer. One, I don’t respond well to threats.” She reached up and snatched the rose from her hair, tossing it to the ground at his feet. “But here. By all means, take back the rose. I don’t care much for the expensive hybrids anyway. All show and no substance, if you ask me. Like some people I know.”
“Ouch.” He grinned. “That hurt. What’s the second thing I should know about you?”
She gave him a sly smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’re never going to get close enough to need that information.” And with that, she disappeared inside the pool house to dress.
As last lines went, it was a good one, and Jared had been left staring after her, intrigued, amused, and aroused as hell.
She’d stolen his heart that day, but it wasn’t until the end of the summer that he’d learned what an accomplished thief she truly was.
Scrubbing his face with his hands, he leaned his head back against his chair and closed his eyes. But strangely enough, it wasn’t Tess’s image that troubled him. It was the little girl’s picture in the paper that haunted him. The missing child. For some reason, Jared couldn’t get her out of his head.
“WHAT ABOUT THE BANK?” Tess’s mother asked at dinner that night. She looked tired tonight, Tess thought. Joelle Granger was still a young woman, not yet fifty, but Emily’s disappearance had aged her. The lines in her careworn face had deepened, and her light brown hair had seemed to gray overnight. Like Tess’s, her hazel eyes were rimmed with shadows.
She, Tess, and Melanie Kent, Tess’s best friend, were seated around her dining-room table, but no one felt like eating, even though the chicken casserole was one of Joelle’s specialities.
Tess stared at her plate. Wherever Emily was, had she been given food? Or was she hungry, her little stomach swollen and knotted in pain?
Tess pictured her little girl, weak from hunger, too sick even to cry out…
Overcome by the images, she pushed away her plate. “I’m sorry, Mama, but I can’t eat a bite.”