Книга - Temptation

Temptation
Donna Hill


If Desire Can Be Had For The Asking…In the lavish San Francisco valley, Noelle Maxwell unveils her secret. Liaisons is the ultimate fantasy–a chic retreat where romantic dreams are yours for the right price. But Noelle has other secrets–a past in New Orleans, a marriage to a powerful man who fulfilled all but her deepest longings and a vow to uncover the truth behind his mysterious death. Yet the only man she can trust is a stranger whose explosive sexuality awakens desire–and fear.…Is Love Worth Any Price?From the moment the man calling himself Cole Richards meets his partner's beautiful widow, the stakes in a dangerous game rise even higher. But the closer he gets to Noelle's seductive flame, the more he risks being burned–and the more he must hide a shocking truth that could destroy the love he so passionately craves….








Temptation




Temptation

Donna Hill





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Contents


Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue




Prologue


Fast.

The sleek bronze-toned Mercedes-Benz convertible sped down the black tarred San Francisco freeway. Jordan had purchased the car for her a year ago, to celebrate her twenty-seventh birthday and their fourth wedding anniversary. Just before…. Noelle shook her head and stepped on the gas. She wouldn’t think about it.

Faster. The turbo charged engine hurtled forward. Her honey-colored hair, fashioned after actress Halle Berry, whipped around her coppertoned face. Maybe if she drove faster she could make the memories rush past like the scenery that graced the precisely manicured lawns. Rush past the incompleteness that was her life, now that Jordan was dead.

She’d allowed herself to be totally transformed by the charismatic Jordan Maxwell. He’d taken a scrawny, uneducated girl from the New Orleans bayou and turned her into one of the most powerful women on the West Coast. She’d come so far from where she’d been, her past was almost a blur. She was in limbo. She could never go back, and the powers that be, would keep her from going forward.

Without thinking, she adjusted the black sunglasses on her nose. The simple gesture had become habitual. The designer accessory had become her signature for nearly a year.

Noelle didn’t wear the blacker than black glasses so much for sun, or to hide the tears that so frequently welled up in her eyes. She wore them more to camouflage the emptiness that had taken up residence in the dark brown orbs.

She couldn’t let them see the void or the fear that kept her walking the floors at night. There were too many jealous onlookers—so-called friends that couldn’t wait to see her fail. She knew that they snickered behind her back and that hurt her more than she’d ever let on. And no one was more outraged at her success than Trent Dixon.

Noelle rounded the hairpin turn with ease and recalled a conversation she’d stumbled upon at a party one night. It was not only amusing that Jordan hadn’t turned his company reins directly over to her, but expected, she’d overheard. Noelle was an heiress to an empire with no throne. Trent had been with Jordan when he’d hit his first big deal in the Sudan. Trent knew everything there was to know about the import-export business. Noelle supposed that it was only fitting that Trent be handed the reins. As far as she was concerned, Trent Dixon could take the company and go straight to hell.

She’d never had any interest in the import-export business and Jordan was fully aware of that fact. Her views and his remained in opposition throughout their marriage. Nonetheless, she’d continue to receive her share of the profits whether she took over or not. What she really wanted to sink her teeth into was the villa, Liaisons. The villa that Jordan had willed to her. She had plans for that. Big plans. She’d make a name for herself on her own terms, not on Jordan Maxwell’s coattails, and certainly not under the tutelage of Trent Dixon. He was the last person she wanted anything to do with.

Every time she thought about Trent Dixon she got a headache. Her body began to overheat and she couldn’t think straight. There was no way that she was looking forward to their impending meeting, since their long-distance phone conversations over the past year had been anything but cordial. They had been treading the thin line between chilly politeness and outright sarcasm. Anytime he called to advise her that her signature was required on a document, even over the scratchy phone connection, Noelle could practically taste his indignation all the way from the Sudan. But he would never know how deeply she despised him. There was nothing that he could ever say or do that would make her believe that he didn’t have something to do with Jordan’s death. And for that she’d never forgive him.

He was scheduled to arrive in the States in two weeks. She’d never met him face to face. For some strange reason the thought of his arrival made her nervous. Because of that, it was more important than ever that Liaisons be perfect when he arrived. There was no one better than Tempest Dailey to pull off that miracle. And she’d done precisely that. The gala opening of Liaisons was scheduled for the following evening.

Tempest and her husband Braxton were two people who had risen above the others and proven themselves to be true friends. Noelle couldn’t wait to see Tempest again.

Noelle stepped on the gas while smoothly cutting around a red Porsche. She checked the digital clock on the dash. Twenty minutes before Tempest’s plane was to arrive. If she kept up the 85 mph speed, she’d beat the plane with time to spare.




Chapter 1


The trill of soft music wafted across the warm San Francisco night. Hundreds of twinkling lights hung from the trees, the balustrades and windows, turning the enormous villa into a fairyland.

Noelle St. James-Maxwell breathed a sigh of contentment. Everything was exquisite. The caterers had laid out a fare fit for royalty. Every imaginable delicacy was there for the taking. She smiled in satisfaction as she regally strolled across the grounds, nodding and waving, greeting the guests, the curious, the envious.

Noelle couldn’t call any of them friends, she thought, ruefully, shaking hands with the president of NBC studios. She knew they’d all come to gawk, to pass their comments, stir more rumors and most of all, to see if the young widow of Jordan Maxwell had what it took to run his empire.

They wanted her to fail, she knew, smiling graciously at the arrival of Whitney and her superstar husband. The circle of elite associates that her late husband surrounded himself with were a tight-knit, cliquish group. They turned their noses up at any who were not one of them. Background, education and family trees were more important than personal substance. Noelle couldn’t count a friend among them. The group had yet to adjust to the fact that Jordan Maxwell, owner of one of the largest import-export companies in the U.S., a man who could have any woman he chose, had plucked a no-count waitress from the bowels of the Louisiana swampland and dropped her in their midst. They were still reeling from that indignity five years later.

Jordan had groomed her for a world that she had never fully adjusted to and was never accepted in. Liaisons was her first real attempt at anything independent of Jordan. The thought of failure terrified her, and failure would solidify every negative comment ever said about her. For that reason, she’d never let them see the loneliness or the fear that lived in her soul, visible only through her eyes. For now, the darkness would hide her secret.

But tonight was her success, she thought, shaking off the disturbing thoughts. Liaisons was the culmination of her dreams, a tribute to Jordan, and no one was going to ruin it. Not even Trent Dixon.

“Noelle! Noelle!”

She turned in the direction of the familiar voice, the smile she displayed being genuine for the first time in hours.

“Tempest.”

The two women embraced warmly, then quickly stepped back to assess the other.

“That dress is fabulous, girl,” Tempest enthused, admiring the silk sheath of champagne gold that seductively stroked Noelle’s notorious curves, reaching just above her slender ankles. The daring side split gave a teasing view of a perfect copper leg from ankle to hip.

Her soft creole accent floated through the air. “Merci. But of course you have outdone yourself, chère amie. Red was always your color.”

Tempest smiled at the compliment. With a wicked grin she asked, “What do you wear under something like that?”

Noelle smiled slyly, “Absolutely nothing.”

The two women laughed in unison, drawing the attention of one who stood apart from the growing crowd.

Quietly he watched the two beautiful women, but his attention was riveted on Noelle. He’d instantly recognized her. She was more magnificent than any newspaper clipping or photograph, he realized with a jolt that shot straight to his loins.

Her skin brought to mind the tangy taste of cinnamon. The silky head of chestnut hair, begged him to run his fingers through it. Her statuesque form screamed sensuality. Yet she had a presence that demanded respect. She was a woman who could make a man want to keep her in bed and never let her out. By just looking at her, the stirrings of arousal swept through him. He began to imagine what she would feel like moving beneath him.

Damn, man, what the hell are you doing? Fantasizing about making love to your best friend’s widow?

He took a quick sip of champagne. In all of the years that he’d worked with Jordan, he’d never met the woman who’d captured the icon’s heart. His years of work in the Sudan had kept him out of the States. Now he could see exactly why Jordan had remained so faithful even when he was away from home for months at a time.

Being home again was going to take some getting used to. Especially since he knew he was not welcome here. But he had a job to do. He’d taken an unbreakable oath and he would fulfill Jordan Maxwell’s wishes. His beautiful widow would just have to accept that.

As if reading his thoughts, Noelle slowly turned her gaze in his direction. The contact was electrifying. She felt hot and cold at once. His unwavering deep stare seemed to see right through her. The dark eyes were unreadable and she felt naked and vulnerable under their appraisal.

What he saw in her eyes shook him to the marrow of his bones. There in the depths of the nut brown eyes was a haunting loneliness, a well of vulnerability and a compelling pain that made him want to pull her into his arms and make her know that he would make everything right with her world.

Then, as quickly as the force had taken hold of them, the contact was broken when Noelle’s attention was diverted by Tempest.

“Noelle? Are you all right? You look like you’ve been hit by lightning,” Tempest said.

Noelle shook her head. “I’m…fine.” She passed off a weak smile at Tempest, whose eyes turned in the direction of Noelle’s gaze.

“Who-is-that?” Tempest asked, admiring the man who defined tall, dark and handsome and made her wish her own gorgeous husband was there to wrap herself around.

“I’m not sure,” Noelle answered slowly, noticing that her pulse was racing.

“Well, with the vibes that the two of you are giving off, I suggest you find out. Don’t you?”

“Maybe later,” Noelle answered absently, not trusting the rush of emotions that swirled within her. She expelled a breath. “Where’s Braxton?” she asked, needing to change the subject, while forcing calm into her voice.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Tempest checked her watch. Briefly she scanned the blooming crowd, while noticing that the handsome stranger had not taken his eyes off Noelle.

Braxton was not in sight. Tempest frowned. Over the past few months, Braxton’s absences and late arrivals had become a bone of contention between them. “He should have been here by now. His flight was scheduled to arrive nearly an hour ago.”

“You know how those flights from Morocco can be, chère. They’re always delayed.”

“Hmm. You’re probably right. But in the meantime,” she added, lowering her gaze to the ground as she spoke, “cutie pie is coming this way.”

Noelle angled her head to see him coming toward them. For some inexplicable reason her heart thundered so forcefully she momentarily felt breathless. The closer he came the quicker her pulse galloped.

He didn’t just walk, Noelle realized with growing alarm. His every move sizzled, tossing electric sparks in his wake.

Raw was the word that leaped into her brain. Raw, animal sexuality poured from him like sweat after hours of erotic loving. She felt dizzy.

“Good evening ladies.” His mellow voice warmed Noelle like brandy in winter. Politely he inclined his head toward Tempest, who smiled knowingly.

“Listen, Noelle, I’m going inside to call the airport. Please excuse me,” she said to both. Without another glance she walked up the small incline toward the main entrance.

“I hope it wasn’t anything I said,” he quipped, flashing a smile that made Noelle’s insides quiver.

Smoothly she returned his smile. “I’m sure it wasn’t. She’s expecting her husband. It seems his plane has been delayed.”

“In that case, I feel better.” His smile stroked her. “At least about it not being my fault.” He made a small show of looking over the grounds, if only to take his mind temporarily off of the face and body that was making him lose his sense of perspective.

In profile, Noelle stole the chance to observe him up close. He had to be over 6’3”, she noted, as he stood head and shoulders above her 5’8” height plus heels. His hard muscular body told her that he took care of himself. He had a strong chiseled face of smooth sienna, a well-tended beard that outlined his rugged chin. His eyes were wide and dark, shadowed by thick black lashes and thicker brows. His full, sensuous lips promised unmeasurable pleasure.

He had a real GQ look. Even in semicasual attire he gave the impression of power and confidence. He wore a suit of navy linen, that hung loosely on his body, as was the fashion. He chose to wear a V-neck T-shirt of white silk. The low collar entreated her to run her fingers across his chest. She curled them into a fist to quell the urge.

He returned his attention back to her and her flesh warmed under his gaze, shooting flashes of liquid desire to her center. She felt the tips of her breasts ripen under his open perusal, which made her even more self-conscious.

She feels it, too, he realized, her ardor boldly evident through the revealing dress, even as he fought to control the turbulence of passion that raged within him.

He forced his mind to clear. “This is a beautiful place you have. You’ve done wonders with it.”

Noelle’s tapered eyebrows arched. “You’re familiar with the villa, monsieur?”

“Actually,” he replied in a confidential tone, “I was with Jordan when he purchased it almost ten years ago. He always had intentions of working on it, but…” His sentence drifted off. “I’m glad to see that his very beautiful wife decided to take it over.”

His dark eyes held hers a moment too long and Noelle felt lightheaded. It must be the champagne.

She cleared her throat. “It seems that you know a great deal about me, monsieur…?”

“Noelle! Noelle!”

Noelle turned around to see Braxton and Tempest coming toward her. Her face lit up when she saw Braxton approach. It had been months since she’d last seen him. After the completion of the interior architecture and the landscaping, he’d had to fly off to Morocco.

Now that both of the honored guests were present the official opening of Liaisons could commence.

Braxton embraced her in a warm hug. “It’s good to see you again, Noelle. I’m sorry to be so late, but my plane…” He gave her that smile that had imprisoned Tempest’s heart for life.

Noelle looked at her relieved girlfriend. “I told you,” Noelle admonished. She took Braxton’s arm and turned back to make introductions.

He was gone. All that remained was his erotic scent that seemed to have seeped into Noelle’s pores.

“Oh…” she muttered, a bit confused and somewhat embarrassed, looking over the heads of her guests.

“Is something wrong?” Braxton asked.

“No…I was just talking with…” She expelled a breath. “Never mind.” She smiled brightly. “Now that you’re here, I can make the announcement to open the house for the tour. That’s what’s important.”



For the next hour, Noelle, Tempest and Braxton were bombarded with congratulations and enthusiastic approval of the three-story villa.

Noelle’s jaws began to ache from the continual smile that she had carved on her mouth. But her thoughts were elsewhere. In every free moment, she subtly tried to locate the man whose image she couldn’t get off of her mind. He seemed to have vanished, and she didn’t even know his name.

“You’re completely distracted,” Tempest said, surprising Noelle with her nearness.

She laughed, embarrassed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Very.” Tempest followed Noelle’s gaze. “You’re looking for him aren’t you?”

Noelle’s shoulders slumped. “I am transparent, aren’t I?”

“Only to those that know you. So—who is he?”

Noelle turned her palms upward. “I still don’t know.”

“Excuse me? You mean that the two of you were practically undressing each other on the lawn and you don’t know who he is? You’re losing your touch.”

An underlying sadness scored her voice. “I’ve had no reason to be interested in a man in a very long time.”

“Yes, I know,” Tempest said softly, placing a comforting hand on Noelle’s bare shoulder, “but you’re a healthy, vibrant, beautiful woman. You can’t stay in hibernation forever. And you can’t use Liaisons to shield yourself from the world.”

Noelle’s voice quivered. “He’s only been gone a year. I…I just couldn’t…He was my life, my world. He…”

“He was just a man, Noelle,” Tempest said gently. “Just a man. Not the god that everyone, including you, made him out to be. I can’t believe that Jordan would want you to remain alone for the rest of your life. He groomed you to be a part of the world, not just the world that he created.”

Noelle lowered her eyes, struggling to fight back the tears that burned her eyes and seared her throat.

Her life had changed irrevocably. It was due to Jordan. Everything that she had, what she was, what she thought, was because of Jordan. He’d rescued her, brought new meaning to her life, gave her reason to want to get up everyday.

He’d turned her life around and now he was gone. He’d left her to deal with this evil, hungry world alone. To face his enemies that would just as soon help her as stab her in the back.

Five years ago, sweating in her aunt Chantal’s tiny café, darting the grubby hands of the male customers she would have never imagined that her life could have ever been any different. Not until the moment that Jordan Maxwell walked into her life. Since that day nothing in her life had ever been the same.

Forever would she recall the way he looked at her when he walked through those doors….




Chapter 2


“Noelle! Stop daydreaming,” her aunt Chantal ordered. “We have customers.”

Chantal wiped her hands on the once-white apron, and shook her head in annoyance.

“For a woman of eighteen, you sometimes act like an enfant,” she sputtered, tossing up her hands. “Get your head out of the clouds. There’s no knight waiting to rescue a poor orphan girl like you. This is your life, chère.”

Chantal marched off toward the kitchen, demanding and instructing all who came in her path.

Noelle sighed deeply, knowing all too well that her aunt was right. This was her life. Here in the bayou of New Orleans, forever at the disposal of someone else.

She knew her aunt meant well, even when her words were harsh. Chantal had immediately taken in Noelle when her mother, Vivian, had died. And Chantal had given her a home. With her father’s whereabouts unknown, Chantal became the only family Noelle had. Being Vivian’s older sister, Chantal felt it her duty to take in her niece. But not without a price.

Noelle had to drop out of school in order to work in Chantal’s café. Her aunt felt that an education was a waste of time. Once a person knew how to add, subtract and read the alphabet, school was useless. Common sense and a strong back would be how Noelle would make her way in the world.

Noelle had missed her school years. She missed her friends, she missed her youth. She felt doomed to a life of hard work and poverty.

Many nights she’d lie awake imagining beautiful clothes, a house that didn’t always smell of gumbo, and a wonderful husband who adored her. Dreams. But her aunt was right. Who would want her? She had nothing and would never be anything more than a poor, orphaned waitress.

She pulled her shoulder-length hair behind her ears and walked out of the supply room into the small café.

As usual, the dinner crowd had packed the café. Although, Chantal’s was on the outskirts of the city, patrons came from far and wide to sample the renowned cuisine.

Noelle put on her trained smile and began her routine of checking on customers and seating the incoming diners.

After seating one of her regular customers, she returned to her station at the door, and there stood Jordan Maxwell.

Immediately she knew that this man was different from all of the others. His clothing spoke of wealth, his posture indicated confidence and his smile was warm and inviting, not like the leers that she was used to.

“Bon soir, monsieur. May I help you?”

“I hope so,” he answered in a voice that vibrated through her like currents on the shore.

She felt suddenly nervous, and childlike under his steady gaze. She lowered her eyes, focusing them on her notepad.

“Will you be dining alone?” Irrationally she hoped that he was.

“Fortunately.”

Her head snapped up in question. Her face was hot with embarrassment, as if he’d read her mind. “Pardon?”

Jordan chuckled at her discomfiture while enjoying the lilt of her creole accent. “Fortunately, because I hope that you may be able to join me.”

“Oh, no, monsieur,” she mumbled, both flattered and afraid. Nervously she looked around for her aunt. “That is not possible.”

“Maybe not now. But you will. Perhaps next time,” he said, fully confident that it would be a reality.

Jordan looked at the lovely young woman and smiled. He was used to having what he wanted and from the moment he set eyes on Noelle, and saw the spark of eager intelligence in her eyes and the pride with which she wore her stained uniform, he determined that she would be his.

“In the meantime, I’d like a table and a bottle of your best wine—to toast the occasion of our meeting.”

Noelle felt her heart flutter. She didn’t know which way to look. Instead she turned and quickly guided him to a vacant table near the piano.

For the balance of the evening, she consciously avoided going near Jordan’s table. But it didn’t stop him from following her with his eyes.

Throughout the night, each time that Noelle dared to look in his direction, he raised his glass in a toast. Then, in an instant, without warning, he was gone.

Several months passed and Noelle didn’t see Jordan again. But she couldn’t seem to forget him or the way he’d made her young heart feel. Special. No one had ever done that before. Each time that she strolled through the teeming New Orleans streets, she thought she spotted him in the crowd. At night she dreamed of his face. The strong caramel features, wide dark eyes and hair that reminded her of the first sprinklings of snow.

Then, when she was beginning to believe that seeing him again was an impossibility, he reappeared one steamy night in August.

Noelle saw him standing in the doorway. A flood of heat swept through her and for several moments she stood immobile, unwilling to believe that he had returned. She willed her legs to move.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember,” he said, his deep timbre thrilling her.

No one like him had ever called her beautiful. She smiled in response.

Her heart raced. “What brings you back after so long, monsieur?”

He took her hand in his. “I thought you’d be ready to have dinner with me now.”

Noelle felt her body tremble. She quickly looked around the café. She spotted her aunt scowling at her from the rear.

She looked up at him, her eyes begging him to understand. “Please, monsieur, my aunt…” She looked over her shoulder.

Jordan looked beyond Noelle and spotted Chantal.

“Let’s tell your aunt that you’ll be leaving.” Gently, he pulled Noelle behind him and walked up to Chantal.

That was the last day that Noelle worked in the café. Jordan had smoothly convinced Chantal that her niece had the potential to achieve wonderful things, and he was going to be sure that she did. In exchange for Noelle’s services, Jordan dutifully sent a very large check to Chantal each month, which seemed to appease her. However, it was difficult for Chantal to believe that a man like Jordan Maxwell could see any value in her meek, little niece. But if he was willing to pay for Noelle’s absence, who was she to argue? Perhaps Jordan saw something in Noelle that she, herself, had missed all of these years. She could only hope that Noelle would be happy in her new life.

For a man who had conquered every obstacle in his life, Noelle was a new challenge for Jordan. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his soul, Jordan saw in her a part of him that was missing. Her naïveté intrigued him. She didn’t have a greedy, or pretentious bone in her body. She was unlike any woman he’d ever known. But he knew that in order to fit into his world she would have to be molded as a sculptor models clay into a work of art.

Noelle was instantly caught up in Jordan’s vision of what he wanted for her. His dream became hers. She was overwhelmed by his expectations, thrilled at the possibilities yet frightened of the doors that he intended to open for her.

“You have talents that you have yet to discover,” he’d said to her. “I intend to bring them to the forefront for all of the world to see.”

The first step in her transformation was her education. Jordan hired private tutors to help refine her speech and catch up on her studies. Studies that were conducted in the cozy apartment that he’d selected for Noelle. With that completed, he sent her to the University of Virginia, where she’d met Tempest and Braxton. Her graduate work took place in Europe, Africa, the Orient. She purchased her leather from Italy, her jewels from Africa, her silks from Hong Kong. She visited the finest haute couture houses in Paris.

Noelle didn’t have time to think about what was happening to her. She felt as though she were in some magical dream world where Jordan was the magician who could make anything happen. But Jordan was a hard taskmaster. “Can’t” was not in his vocabulary. He demanded perfection from everyone around him, and accepted no excuses for anything less. He readily used ridicule as a weapon to propel you. Ultimately you produced, if for no other reason than to prove him wrong. In the end, you achieved what you thought was impossible, and secretly you thanked Jordan. He, in turn, received your loyalty.

With no close friends nearby, and her only family hundreds of miles away, Noelle was enveloped in the cocoon that was Jordan Maxwell. She relied on him for everything.

Noelle always felt as if she were in a never-ending dream. She agreed with every suggestion, critical comment or word of effusive praise that Jordan uttered, afraid that if she ever challenged Jordan’s wishes, for her, she’d wake up from her dream and find herself back in Chantal’s café.

Her transformation took five years to complete, and in the fifth year, Jordan married his creation.

Jordan Maxwell had literally swept Noelle off of her feet and into a world that she had only imagined. Only now it was more magnificent than she’d ever dreamed. She was only beginning to see the power that Jordan wielded. With a simple phone call he could have planes, boats, cars at his disposal. With a dash of his signature he could transfer millions of dollars. By simple request, he could secure the company of politicians, diplomats, movie stars. “Everyone has a weakness, Noelle,” Jordan often told her. “Find it and you have conquered them.”

Her sheltered years in New Orleans had left her naive about the ways of the world. Even her travels across the globe were chaperoned. She never imagined how much subterfuge, envy, and viciousness that existed in Jordan’s everyday life and did not believe the rumors of darker dealings.

What she did understand, however, was that she did not truly fit into his world. All of the fine clothes, the culture, the money, the power would not change the fact that she was only a cook from a backwater café. And to Jordan’s friends and associates, she always would be.

Jordan protected her as much as possible from the gossip. She, in turn, worshipped the ground that he walked on. But deep in her heart, she wondered if Jordan truly loved her. She knew he loved what he could do for her and he loved the person that he’d created. But did he truly love her? She didn’t think so.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Noelle,” Tempest said softly. She gently stroked her arm, pulling Noelle back from the depths of her memories.

Noelle blinked back the images. She gave Tempest a faltering smile. “I know,” she whispered. “These are my ghosts. I’ll find a way to banish them. One day.” She forced a smile. “In the meantime, I have a half dozen guests that have reservations for the opening weekend. So, shall we get them settled?”




Chapter 3


Trent moved like a caged panther around his suite, tossing his belongings around as if they were to be discarded.

Noelle St. James-Maxwell had unnerved him. That’s all there was to it. He’d never met a woman capable of doing that to him, especially without even trying.

He blew out an exasperated breath and jammed his hands in his pockets. How in the world was he supposed to accomplish what he’d come to do, if he couldn’t be in the same room with her without losing his cool? To compound the problem, once she realized who he was, he was sure she wouldn’t come within ten feet of him.

He ran his hand across his bearded chin. Perhaps he could get around that little inconvenience, he thought. At least until he won her confidence.

He stopped pacing. The wheels began to spin. He was sure that he could pull it off. All he needed was a few weeks, two months at best, and his work would be finished.

He strode across the room to the phone and picked up the elaborate Liaisons brochure that had only been distributed to the selected few. He dialed the private number.



The illuminated numbers on the bedside clock, were reflected in Noelle’s weary eyes. In little more than an hour the sun would rise across the bay. She hadn’t slept more than a few minutes all night.

Instead of succumbing to the fatigue that enveloped her, she tossed and turned, reliving the moment she’d heard of Jordan’s death. She never confided her true feelings to anyone about that moment.

She’d always been too ashamed.

No one really knew or understood her relationship with Jordan. On the surface, they appeared to be the fairy tale couple come to life. In a way, they were. They looked great together. Their goals were one. They were perfectly complementary. Yet her life was anything but a fairy tale, it was simply all that she knew.

While she respected and adored Jordan, he left her empty. She was a shell, a product of his creation. She missed something she had no name for and every so often pangs of loneliness would hit her. How many times had she questioned her reasons for remaining with Jordan? How many nights had she spent alone, unfulfilled, but too loyal to her husband to commit the unspeakable? Jordan sensed it too and inexplicably he provoked her, intentionally trying to drive her into another man’s arms.

Yet through all of her hurt and loneliness, she understood Jordan like no one else. She saw through the ruthlessness, the drive, to the vulnerable man beneath the facade. And she knew that as long as they remained husband and wife she would stay committed to her wedding vows. Vows that she believed in with all of her heart. “What God has joined together…” For that reason, she knew, deep inside, Jordan was grateful for her tenderness and compassion. In turn, he showered her with gifts, cars, jewelry. They traveled, they danced, they met dignitaries, they dined in all of the exotic places across the globe. But they never truly loved. Not in the same sense that a husband and wife loved. More like two dear friends who were truly indebted to each other for their very existence. An existence that was cruelly snatched away from her and she had only one man to blame.



It was nearly noon when Noelle emerged from her room. She’d finally fallen into a deep sleep shortly before sunrise, with dreams filled with vivid images of the man she’d met at the opening. The titillating dreams left her more on edge than before, which only added to her anxiety for having overslept.

She went directly to the lower salon to check the guests who had stayed over. Spotting Liaisons’s manager, Gina Nkiru, she quickly crossed the polished marble floor to Gina’s desk. As she approached she wondered, once again, why Gina had chosen the hotel industry as a career. With her exquisite streamlined looks and penchant for top of the line clothing, she could have easily been a success in the world of high fashion. Nonetheless, her credentials were above reproach.

Gina’s auburn head snapped up from her paperwork when she sensed a presence above her.

“Oh. Good morning, Mrs. Maxwell,” Gina beamed. She quickly rose and smoothed her mauve skirt. Gina felt honored to be asked to hold the highest position at Liaisons. Gina’s years of work in the hotel industry, working as her father’s aide at the embassy of Ghana and her multilingual skills had served her well in vying for this job. But all of her experience could not have prepared her for the mystique of Liaisons. It was something out of the most vivid imagination. She’d lost count of the celebrities and public figures that had graced the building the previous night. To think that many of them would become regular patrons was almost too much for Gina to comprehend.

Gina wished that she could tell her friends and family about everyone that she’d seen. But all employees were bound by legal contract never to divulge that information. That along with her uncompromising professionalism would never allow her to breach a trust.

Anonymity was the big draw of Liaisons. Each and every guest was secure in the knowledge that their identities and their dalliances would remain secret. Hence the name Liaisons. That and the $2,500.00 per night fee and the exclusion of any media, effectively deterred the foolhardy.

Even with that knowledge she was still stunned to be holding a cashier’s check for $75,000.00 for the new arrival, Cole Richards.

“How is everything Gina?” Noelle inquired, briefly scanning the guests as they milled about.

“So far, so good, Mrs. Maxwell.” She took a peek at the occupancy list that indicated, only, which suites were in use. “We have a total of ten guests. There are two vacant suites on level two, a vacancy on level one and one suite available on the penthouse floor.”

Noelle nodded. Satisfied. She allowed herself a brief moment of relief. “Let me take a look at the private register.”

Gina retrieved the leather-bound journal from the safe and handed it to Noelle.

Noelle scanned the names, nodding at each familiar one, until she reached the name Cole Richards. She frowned. “Who is this?” She pointed to the last entry.

Gina peered across the desk to the line that Noelle indicated with a French manicured finger.

“I’m sure I saw him last night, Mrs. Maxwell,” she assured with confidence. “He checked in about an hour ago. He’s on level three. He gave me this.” She showed Noelle the check.

Noelle’s brown eyes briefly widened in surprise. “$75,000.00?” She did a quick mental calculation. “He intends to stay for an entire month?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Did he provide the required references?”

“Yes. I filed them away. Would you like to see them?”

“Please.”

Gina exited through the door directly behind her desk into the back office. Momentarily she returned with a sealed folder. She handed it to Noelle.

“I’ll just take this to my office. I’ll be sure to return it before the end of the day.”

“Of course.” Gina started to feel uneasy. A tiny spot just beneath her left eye began to twitch—a sure sign. Her father always said that she was psychic, and her feelings were generally on target. She only hoped that this time her intuition was off.

Noelle turned to leave.

“Mrs. Maxwell?”

Noelle came around looking at Gina quizzically.

“Didn’t everyone who was here last night receive a personal invitation?”

“Yes. Unless they were the guest of someone who did. Why do you ask?”

“Then Mr. Richards must be a friend or the guest of someone that you know.”

“That remains to be seen.” She smiled briefly and headed in the direction of her office.

Gina swallowed back her trepidations. As she marked Noelle’s departure, she had the unsettling sensation that trouble was on the horizon. But she had her own secret to concern herself with, and it would take all of her diplomatic skills to keep it under wraps. If Noelle were ever to find out, she would surely lose this fabulous job.



Noelle took the short ride on the glass elevator to the lower level where her office was housed.

Within moments she’d broken open the plastic seal and had methodically run over the details that it contained.

There was a personal letter from her friend Senator Richard Thomas of California. He described Cole Richards in glowing terms, saying that they had been associates for several years and he was very familiar with Mr. Richards’ entrepreneurial skills in the aeronautical industry.

Planes. The thought evoked painful memories. She shoved them to the back of her mind. She set the letter aside and looked over the brief personal profile.

He was 35 years old, preferred privacy, home state New York. He would be staying for one month in suite number 9. He listed his occupation as an Aeronautical Consultant. No guests were expected.

Pensively she looked across the room and focused on the Picasso abstract, absently replacing the pages and closing the folder.

Suite number 9. That was on the east wing, set off by itself, she recalled. Braxton had designed it specifically for those that wanted the utmost privacy.

For some reason, Cole Richards had sparked her curiosity. She leaned back in her leather seat and Jordan’s words of wisdom echoed in her mind. Never leave anything to chance. You always stay ahead of your opponent by already knowing what they’re trying to find out.

Slowly she pushed herself away from her desk. Perhaps she’d pay a personal visit to her special guest. Just to satisfy her curiosity, of course.



Hesitantly, Noelle stood in front of suite number 9. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. After all, the profile did indicate that Mr. Richards wanted his privacy. Then again, she reasoned, as owner of Liaisons it was her responsibility to be assured that her guests’ anonymity was not compromised by any unscrupulous individual, which this Cole Richards very well could be. She felt mildly justified.

Inhaling deeply she knocked on the door, then waited for what seemed like an eternity. She was beginning to truly feel ridiculous. She turned to leave just as the door was snatched open.

“Yes?”

The familiar voice vibrated down her spine and momentarily held her in place. As she turned around to face him, her eyes locked on the bare, wet chest then drifted down to the white towel that scarcely covered his middle. Her mouth went dry and her face felt flushed, and for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything logical to explain her appearance. Standing before him she, once again, felt like the young inexperienced waitress instead of the twenty-eight-year-old businesswoman.

He merely stared at her, seeming totally nonplussed by his half-naked appearance. His cavalier attitude snapped her to her senses.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Monsieur Richards. It seems that I’ve come at a bad time.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Now why would you say that, Mrs. Maxwell?”

She quickly realized from his tone that he was teasing her, apparently taking great pleasure from their encounter.

“Would you like to come in while I—uh—put something on? I was expecting room service.”

Noelle straightened her shoulders and forced her gaze up from below his waist to focus on his eyes. She quickly discovered that wasn’t much better.

“I want to make a practice of visiting all of my guests,” she replied. “Especially those that intend to stay with us for a while.”

The smooth cadence of her voice reminded him of hot nights on sandy beaches with a full moon glowing above. Sensual.

“But I think I should come at another time. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” She made a move to leave.

He reached out and touched her shoulder and she swore that must be what an electric shock felt like.

His voice was low, throbbing. “I hope it’s not a problem that I’ll be staying for a while.” His fingers began to burn with the contact. Reluctantly he removed his hand. “I need the rest.” His smile held an invitation.

“I didn’t mean to give the impression that your stay was a problem.” She touched her hand to her chest. “I apologize.”

“None needed.” His eyes held hers.

Noelle was the first to look away.

“I—I must be going. If there’s anything you need…”

“I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Noelle gave him one last fleeting look, turned on her heel and walked quickly down the carpeted corridor.

Trent leaned casually against the door frame watching her hasty departure. The cool mint green linen dress just barely skimmed her knees. Last night he thought he’d had the perfect view of those luscious legs. Now he knew what had been left to the imagination.

He surprised himself with the control he exerted while she stood in front of him. It had taken every ounce of self-restraint to still the urges that pulsed through his loins, while she stood there looking so flustered, assured and delectable all at once.

Now that she knew he was there, the next phase of his plan had to be executed.

He shut the door. In a little more than ninety days, the notes would be called in. Everything that Jordan worked for would come tumbling down. The only person who could salvage his empire was Noelle. And the one she needed to learn the ropes from was him. The last man on earth she’d have anything to do with. He had to get her to trust him. Or at least trust Cole Richards.




Chapter 4


En route to her office, Noelle made good on her statement to Cole Richards. She took a short stroll through the gardens, the three dining rooms, the pool and the exercise room. She made a point to speak to each guest personally. Everyone that she met confirmed that the service and accommodations surpassed all expectations.

She should be elated, but instead she felt more under the microscope than ever. All eyes would be on Liaisons and her for the next few months. Everything had to be better than perfect.

The fact that Cole Richards was to be a long-term guest, mildly complicated matters. He made her feel things, think things, want things. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by him or anyone. Not now.



Arriving in her office, Noelle sorted through the mail and reviewed the bills that required her signature for payment. She casually flicked through the stack until she came across a plain white envelope addressed to her from Jordan’s attorney in Los Angeles.

Curious, she tore it open. As she read the unbelievable contents the words began to blur and her hands trembled.

Screaming denial rang in her brain. This must be some macabre joke. But as she continued to read the familiar scrawl she knew that it was true.

The light knocking on the door, nearly caused her to cry out. She cleared her throat and swallowed back the tears. The knock came again. She pushed control into her voice.

“Yes? Come in.”

The door swung open. “Well. Good afternoon.” Tempest whisked in closing the door behind her. She took a seat on the low sleek, leather couch. “Whew. I’m exhausted. What a night.”

“I know. It was better than I expected,” Noelle answered absently.

Tempest frowned. “You don’t sound like you’re too pleased.”

Noelle briefly shook her head. “Of course I’m pleased. Why shouldn’t I be? Liaisons’s opening surpassed everything that I ever dreamed,” she concluded, pointedly avoiding Tempest’s steady gaze.

Tempest pursed her full red lips and crossed her legs.

“How long have we been friends, Noelle?”

The question caught Noelle off guard. She forced a laugh. “For more than eight years. Why?”

“We’ve always been honest with each other, right?”

“Of course. What are you getting at?”

“Something’s bothering you. And I want to know what it is. Maybe I can help.”

Slowly Noelle rose from her seat and turned away to face the window that covered the expanse of the wall. Her view took in the outdoor pool and rested on Cole Richards as he emerged from the water. His muscles rippled with every move. Her pulse picked up its pace while she watched him stride across the pavement into the villa.

She turned away from the window and forced a smile as she faced her friend. “I only wish there were something you could do.”

Tempest rose. “Is there a problem with Liaisons? Are you ill? Talk to me,” she pleaded softly.

Noelle’s lids fluttered as she tried to hold back her tears. She crossed her arms, embracing herself as if the act could contain the torrent of emotions that threatened to overflow.

Alarmed, Tempest hurried to her side, bracing Noelle’s shoulders. “Noelle, what is it?” She guided Noelle to the couch. “Whatever it is, it can be worked out,” Tempest assured, her soothing voice washing over Noelle.

Noelle solemnly shook her head and wiped the tears away from her cheeks.

“It’s just so bizarre.”

Tempest heard the strain in her voice. “What is?” she coaxed.

Noelle angled her chin toward the desk. “Over there. On the desk there’s a letter. From Jordan.”



Trent returned to his suite. His body felt rejuvenated after the vigorous swim. His mind was clearer. Physical exercise always had a positive impact on him. Whenever he felt stressed or worried he found a way to expel it in some form of activity.

Swimming was just one outlet, but flying was his passion. He’d been flying since he was eighteen. He’d gotten his pilot’s license at twenty and was a certified instructor by twenty-two.

His skills as a pilot became public knowledge after a stint with the airforce. His unit, led by him, had successfully pulled off a rescue mission of an American diplomat held in the Middle East.

From there he wrote his own ticket. He became a pilot for hire, flying anywhere, anytime. Which was how he met Jordan Maxwell and became his personal pilot and business partner.

Without warning, images of Noelle pushed thoughts of Jordan out of his mind. He clenched his teeth. He had to stay focused.

He stepped out of his wet trunks and strode naked across the room. It was now or never, he thought as he dialed the villa operator.

“Yes, Mr. Richards?”

“I need to rent a car within the hour.”

“That’s no problem. Just follow the instructions on the voice-activated system when I switch you to the rental department.”

“Thank you.”



Exactly as he’d dictated, a midnight blue Lexus LS was waiting for him when he exited the facility. He slipped behind the wheel and headed toward Los Angeles.



Tempest read the letter with a mixture of disbelief and alarm. It was obvious, after the first few lines, that Jordan had written this letter well before the accident. She could easily understand and sympathize with Noelle’s shock. What was curious, however, was her nagging sensation that Jordan seemed to have known well in advance that he wouldn’t be returning home. She wondered if Noelle had the same feeling.

Gently she placed the letter on the desk and returned to Noelle’s side.

“Are you all right?”

Noelle nodded.

“Noelle, was there something going on in Jordan’s life that could have prompted him to write this letter?”

She shook her head slowly. “No. Nothing that I know of.”

Tempest took a thoughtful breath before speaking. “It’s just that…well, it sounds as if he knew something. Or had planned something.”

Noelle sprung up from the couch. Her brown eyes blazed. “Are you trying to imply that Jordan planned his own death?” Her voice rose to a tremulous pitch. “Are you?” she demanded.

“Noelle. Calm down. The letter just doesn’t sound right. He says that you would know what to do. That your life together was what made him go on for as long as he did. That he’d trust you to be able to run his business and everything would fall into place. Noelle, whether you want to accept it or not, this is a farewell letter.”

All of the restraint that Noelle had maintained crumpled at those telling words. She seemed to deflate like a pierced balloon. The tears that she’d held at bay ran freely down her chiseled cheeks. But her voice was surprisingly strong when she spoke.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” she said slowly, “I didn’t want to think that he would intentionally abandon me. Then to ask me to trust Trent Dixon is more than I can bear.”

Tempest stretched her arm across Noelle’s shoulders. “I know that you hold this Dixon guy responsible for the plane crash. I know that it’s hard for you to accept that he survived and Jordan didn’t. But if Jordan trusted him, why can’t you?”

Noelle tossed her head in dismissal. Her eyes pierced Tempest’s. “Yes, Jordan trusted him. He trusted him with his life and Trent Dixon destroyed that trust!”

“It was an accident Noelle. The inquiry cleared Dixon of any wrongdoing. It was a malfunction.”

“But Trent was responsible for the maintenance of the plane,” she countered. “He was responsible.”

Tempest began to feel that she was fighting a losing battle. She tried one last time.

“You don’t even know Trent Dixon. Did it ever occur to you that he’s going through his own hell? Jordan left the reins of his enterprise in Dixon’s hands. Whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to deal with him. At least until the terms of the will are fulfilled. As this letter says, after the year is up, Dixon is to turn the company over to you.”

Noelle’s lids briefly lowered in reluctant acceptance. “I’ve never been interested in running Jordan’s business. He knew that. He knew that. We were always completely at odds over his business practices and his vision for the company. For all I care, Trent Dixon can have it.”

But with those words an eerie thought rushed to the surface.

She turned to Tempest, her eyes wide with awakening. “Suppose this letter is just a ploy by Dixon to lure me into a sense of security so that he could take the company from me without a fight?”

Tempest wrestled with the idea for a moment. “But how would he have gotten Jordan to write this letter? This is Jordan’s handwriting isn’t it?”

Noelle stood up and began to pace, biting on her thumbnail as she thought.

“It looks like Jordan’s writing. But Trent was the closest person to him. He could easily have studied his handwriting over the years.”

Tempest slowly shook her head and sighed. “Where did the letter come from?”

“It was hand delivered this morning from our attorney’s office in L.A.”

“Have you called your attorney?”

“That would be pointless. Joseph Malone was more Jordan’s attorney than mine. He’s one of those types that sticks to the letter of confidentiality. I’m sure he’s under some strict instructions.”

“Then who else may know something?”

Noelle turned back toward the window. Snatches of her conversation the night before rang in her head.

“The man I met last night,” she said slowly. “He said he was with Jordan when he bought the villa.” She turned toward Tempest. “He’s here. Now. Cole Richards knew Jordan.”




Chapter 5


Trent spent the better part of the day in his other hotel suite in Los Angeles. He had an arm’s length of calls to make to the Maxwell headquarters in Sudan and Hong Kong. He couldn’t risk them being billed to him at Liaisons.

According to the reports that he’d received, everything was in order. Or at least as well as could be expected with the revolution in full swing. Import and export of anything other than food and medicine was out of the question. The United Nations was taking steps to intervene, but there was no telling how long that would take.

Finally, wrapping up his business late in the day he headed back to Liaisons.

As he sped across the winding highways in the rented Lexus, he questioned his tactics. Maybe he should have been honest with Noelle and absorbed her eminent outrage. But it was too late now. He had no other choice than to follow through. Noelle Maxwell believed that he was Cole Richards and it would remain so until the time was right to tell her the truth.

He made the last curve into the long drive of Liaisons and turned into the underground garage.

Tonight, he thought.



Noelle took special care to prepare herself for the evening ahead. After the shocking ordeal of the morning she needed the time to relax before mingling with the guests.

Her attempts to subtly locate Cole Richards had proven to be fruitless. He’d apparently left the villa earlier in the day and had yet to return.

She sighed as she sat before her mirror applying her makeup to the flawless copper skin. She felt certain that Cole Richards held the key to some information about Jordan and the fatal plane crash. What it was she couldn’t be certain, but she would have to find a way to gain his help.

Satisfied with her polished look, she crossed the room and selected a fitted gown of black lycra. The off-the-shoulder neckline was dotted with tiny rhinestones. She slipped the gown over her nude body. The simple act wrought steamy visions of how Cole Richards looked at her the previous night and how sensual he’d made her feel.

Unconsciously, standing before the full-length mirror, her hands involuntarily stroked her heated body. Briefly she shut her eyes as powerful flashes of long unfulfilled desire ripped through her.

What would his hands feel like, his mouth, his…Her eyes flew open. Her breath came in short, choppy waves. She stared unbelievably at herself in the mirror, her hands still cupping her full breasts.

She flung her hands to her sides. With a shuddering breath she spun away from the telltale image.

Forcing herself to concentrate, she stepped into her strapless black heels, picked up her rhinestone purse and walked purposefully from her room.



The glass enclosed dining room, situated on the rooftop of the villa, had already begun to fill with eager diners. Part of the policy of Liaisons was to cater to the guests’ every dietary whim. Upon arrival, every guest filled out a complete guide to their special requirements and the Liaisons’ chef met their requests with verve. The immense kitchen was stocked with everything from Nathan’s hot dogs to exotic Far East cuisine.

Momentarily, Noelle stood at the threshold of the dining room quietly observing the guests, and hoping to catch a glimpse of Tempest and Braxton, to no avail. However, she was totally satisfied that her fantasy hideaway had become her reality. Maybe now the gossipmongers would begin to take her seriously. There was no way that anyone could doubt that Liaisons was a huge success. And she’d only just begun.

“Checking on your guests again?”

The decidedly intimate voice came from behind her.

Noelle stole a glance over her shoulder to see Cole Richards standing a mere breath away. Her pulse shuddered as her brief glance told her that he was even more handsome than when she’d last seen him. If that were possible.

He stepped around to stand at her side.

“It’s my responsibility to make sure that everyone at Liaisons is well taken care of, Monsieur Richards.”

His slow smile taunted her. “I’m sure that everyone appreciates your conscientiousness.” He paused, noting the seriousness of her expression. “Please call me Cole. I’m sure we’ll be seeing enough of each other to be able to drop formalities.”

Her expression slowly relaxed. “I suppose you’re right. You must excuse me if I seem…”

“Anxious?” he said completing her sentence.

Her smile was tremulous as she nodded.

“It’s just that I’ve worked so hard for so long to—” she spread her hand in explanation “—make this all happen. I just want everything to be perfect.”

He saw the shadow of doubt flicker in those beautiful brown eyes and he had to reassure her.

“Believe me, I can’t imagine anyone thinking otherwise.” He lowered his gaze and then looked directly at her and added gently, “I’m sure Jordan would be very proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

“You knew my husband well?” she asked, smoothly sidestepping the compliment.

“Yes. Very well.”

Noelle recognized her opportunity. She straightened her shoulders and tilted her head.

“Would you care to join me for dinner—Cole?”

He took her elbow and grinned. “I thought you’d never ask. I’m starved.”

Dinner conversation was easy, unstrained and at times filled with laughter. They talked about old movies, the economy, hobbies, places that they had been and found that they had a lot in common. The unspoken realization was tantalizing.

“Your chef is magnificent,” Trent complimented, pushing slightly away from the table. “I can’t remember ever having poached salmon that could compare to this.”

Noelle smiled appreciatively.

“Jordan and I met Paul, the chef, when we were in Paris,” Noelle explained. “I decided then and there that if I were to ever have this dream of mine come true, I would make sure that Paul was my chef.”

Trent brushed his lips with the linen napkin then tucked it beneath his empty plate. “So you thought about Liaisons for a while?”

Noelle nodded. “All of the years that I worked at my aunt’s café in New Orleans, I envisioned a place of my own. Something unlike any other,” she added wistfully,

“You’ve outdone yourself.” He looked around the elegant dining hall, then back at Noelle. When his dark eyes settled on her, she felt her insides flutter. “I can’t imagine all the time and work it took to put this all together.”

She sighed. “I had a good teacher.”

For several moments they sat in companionable silence, sipping the last of their wine, each caught in momentary memories of Jordan Maxwell.

“Would you like to take a walk with me around the grounds?” Trent asked. “I haven’t had a chance to see very much.”

Noelle smiled. “I’d like that very much.”



They talked softly as they strolled across the grass covered slopes, with Noelle pointing out her favorite spots and explaining where some of her ideas had arisen.

“I wanted to try to recreate some of the wonderful things that I’d seen in my travels and bring them all together in one place.

“Like the fountains over there.” She pointed in the direction of the enormous marble fountains. “I’d seen those in Greece. The ideas for the pillars came from seeing the ruins in Rome. The hieroglyphics on the stone wall in the steam rooms came from my visits to the tombs in Egypt.”

Trent was visibly impressed, Noelle noticed with a touch of pride.

“You’ve obviously traveled a great deal. Not many people are that lucky.”

“Jordan tried to make sure that the whole world would be an education for me.”

Noelle slowed down and stopped walking. Trent halted his step and turned toward her. His expression registered concern.

“Is something wrong?”

She stood still for several moments framing the questions in her mind. “How well did you know Jordan? When did you see him last?”

He knew the questions were inevitable, and had dreaded this very moment from the time he mentioned that he’d been with Jordan at the purchase of Liaisons. Careless. He hated having to lie to her. She was so beautiful, so sincere, nothing like the person that he’d envisioned. But he felt he had no other choice.

He stepped cautiously closer. She looked so fragile and vulnerable. Her luminous brown eyes were wide with expectation.

“We worked—together,” he began, “on several projects.”

Noelle’s brow creased. “I don’t remember Jordan ever mentioning you.”

He thought quickly. “I was more of a consultant. He called me in from time to time.”

She lowered her gaze to the ground. Her voice was barely above a whisper. Trent strained to catch each word.

“I hadn’t seen Jordan for three months before the—accident. He’d spent his time traveling and then when the revolt started, he told me he couldn’t get away, there were too many things to take care of.”

Slowly she looked up, her eyes glistening with memories. “I’m sorry,” she said, swallowing back a sob. “I didn’t mean to drag you into my problems.” She sniffed and smiled weakly.

His gut twisted with guilt. “It’s all right,” he assured her softly. He pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from the breast pocket of his midnight blue dinner jacket and handed it to her. Instantly he realized his error.

The initials TMD hypnotized him. He held his breath while Noelle dabbed at her eyes.

“Thank you Cole.” She handed him the handkerchief. His relief was almost palpable. Noelle read it as discomfort. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I don’t usually do this kind of thing. Especially around strangers.”

His eyes roved over her face. “I was hoping that we were more than strangers.” He grinned mischievously. “Especially after this morning, Mrs. Maxwell,” he teased, his look bringing back swift memories of their earlier encounter at his suite. His crooked smile made Noelle laugh in spite of herself.

“I guess you’re right.” She eyed him coyly surprising herself with her directness. “So what does that make us—exactly?”

He stepped closer, until he was near enough to feel the heat from her body, and was sure that she could hear his racing heart.

She felt the intimate caress of his eyes when he looked at her and held her breath as he spoke.

“I’d say that makes us two people who are on their way to something very—” he touched her chin with the tip of his finger “—very special.”

When she looked up into his eyes, he saw a mixture of longing and doubt. “What do you say to that?” he asked softly.

She hesitated, reluctant to say what she was truly feeling. Things were moving too fast.

“I’d say it’s time that we changed the subject.”

Trent smoothly recovered without missing a step, much to Noelle’s relief. The feelings she had about Cole Richards were coming too hot, too fast. She had to put on the brakes.

He grinned and shoved his hands in his pants pockets, reminding her of a little boy caught with his fingers in the cookie jar.

“And to what would you like to change the subject?”

Noelle breathed deeply. “What exactly did you do for Maxwell Enterprises?” She looked directly into his eyes.

Trent casually averted his gaze. “I was responsible for recommending particular aircrafts to suit the need.” He spread his hand in explanation as he continued. “I compared capabilities, costs, shopped around, kept up on the latest models, made necessary negotiations.” He shrugged, offhandedly. “Things like that.”

Slowly Noelle nodded while she absorbed the information. Then her head snapped up.

“Would that cover personal aircrafts as well?” Her pulse raced and so did Trent’s. He thought he knew where this was headed and he didn’t like the direction. But he couldn’t divert the inevitable collision.

“In some cases,” he replied with caution.

“Cole.” She stretched out her hand and clasped his arm. “I want you to find out what happened to my husband’s plane.”

“What?” That request he didn’t expect. “I—I, didn’t the FAA rule it as an accident?”

“I don’t care what the FAA said!” Her slender hands clenched into fists. “I have a feeling that something happened. Something that the FAA and my own investigator were unable to find. Jordan was too careful, too conscientious about everything. He never would have flown in a plane that had even the remotest problem.”

Her dark brown eyes locked with his. “And neither would Trent Dixon. Unless he knew…” Her voice trailed off with her thoughts.

“Knew what?”

She shook her head in uncertainty. “I’m not sure,” she said finally. “All I know is that I’ll never be able to go on with my life until I do know—for sure. And I believe that you’re the one who can help me.”

He read the silent plea in her eyes and he almost weakened.

“But you even said that you’d hired an investigator and he couldn’t come up with anything. The FAA couldn’t come up with anything. Why are you so sure that I can?”

Her features softened when she spoke. “You don’t have to answer me now. Just promise me that you’ll think about it.”

Trent briefly shut his eyes, realizing that at that moment, with her looking at him as if he was the only man on earth; if Noelle Maxwell had asked him to jump off of the Golden Gate bridge in his birthday suit he would have agreed. He nodded.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

With that aside Noelle took up their stroll again, heading back in the direction of the main house. She spoke softly as they walked.

“Sometimes,” she began, “I feel as though I’m trapped in some sort of limbo. Unable to go forward, unable to go back. My unresolved feelings have me locked into a fortress without windows or doors.”

“But you are moving on with your life. You’ve opened Liaisons. It’s obviously a success.”

She laughed a self-deprecating laugh. “This is all part of the fortress.”

His dark eyes squinted in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

She touched his arm lightly and instantly felt the heat spread through her fingers. “It’s a longer story than I care to tell.” She turned away.

For several moments he stood behind her, entranced by her solitary beauty. The iridescent glow from the half moon seemed to cast a halo around her black clad body, every detail of her form defined under the moonlight. He was spellbound by the sensuous voice, moved to undeniable arousal by her very existence in his life and pained by the fear and loneliness that was her life. Damn it Jordan! What have you done to her—to me?

He eased closer and turned her around into the circle of his arms.

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me,” he said gently. His eyes trailed languidly over her face and he felt her heart slam against his chest.

She stared at him, transfixed by an overwhelming anticipation that was almost unbearable. She struggled to control the spiraling emotions and failed as his head lowered. His mouth met her parted lips.

The contact was as fiery as an arson’s blaze. She felt her entire body ignite, yet she shivered in his arms. He pulled her closer, molding her body to his.

His own mind and body convulsed in a barrage of explosive emotion. His thoughts ran in circles as he tried to control the instantaneous passion that welled within him.

He felt as if he’d known her forever and then not at all. He wanted to taste every inch of her, make her his own. His eager tongue explored her mouth and when she willing responded he knew that he was lost.

Noelle searched his mouth. Her slender arms clung to him, her only means of knowing that she was still on earth finding herself within the warm cavern.

How long had she waited to feel this way? A day? A week—forever? Somehow she believed her search was over. Cole would show her what it was like to be a real woman.

Then reality stung her with vehemence. She couldn’t. Not with this man. Not with someone who knew Jordan. Then their long-kept secret would be discovered. She couldn’t do that to Jordan’s memory.

Without warning, she tore herself from Trent’s embrace. She shook her head warning off his spontaneous approach.

“No. Please. I shouldn’t have done that.” She turned away and started up the small incline toward the entrance.

Trent took off after her, reaching her just before she came to the door. He grabbed her arm. “I wanted to,” he said in a raspy voice.

Noelle remained with her back to him afraid to see the truth that she sensed would be in his eyes.

“I’ve wanted to from the moment I saw you, Noelle. So don’t blame yourself.”

Slowly she turned to face him. He saw the doubt in her eyes. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked gently.

She tilted up her chin, exhibiting a confident air. “You’ve got it all wrong. I just don’t want you to think that I was trying to…” She searched for the word.

“Romance me into helping you,” he said finishing her sentence once again. The beginnings of a smile tilted his full lips. “Like I said, Mrs. Maxwell, I wanted that kiss.”

The light in his eyes ignited. “And I think you wanted it, too.”

He moved his hand down to stroke her arm.

She stared at him for a brief moment. “Good night, Mr. Richards.” Her tone was suddenly formal. “Please let me know if you’ll accept my request.”

Without another word she turned away, hurrying into the safety of the villa.

For several moments Trent leaned against the ornate pillar, silently fuming. He could have kicked himself. He’d obviously misread her. He shook his head at his own macho stupidity. Just because he let his hormones lead the way didn’t mean that she was on the same wave length.

He slammed his fist against the pillar. Damn it! This was going to be even more difficult than he thought. Not only did he have to hide his identity, and keep his feelings for Noelle in check, he also had to get her to realize that he wasn’t some oversexed, oversized teenager on the make.



Noelle lay in her bed staring sightlessly up at the sheer netting that draped her bed. For years she’d kept a lid on her desires. She’d willingly substituted gratitude and loyalty for physical pleasure. And now, in one fell swoop, Cole Richards walks into her life and opens up the trap door to her heart.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t let herself be swept away by a torrid desire for a man she hardly knew. And even if she did, which was highly unlikely, she’d had no experience with casual affairs and wouldn’t know how to conduct one. For all the years of her marriage she’d stuck to the letter of her vows. Forsaking all others. She’d never allowed temptation, unhappiness, or physical incompleteness to lead her into infidelity. Although she wasn’t particularly religious as an adult, her childhood years of churchgoing had left its indelible mark.

In any event, Cole Richards appeared to be the type of man who would never settle down and she knew she could never tolerate that.

Could she even trust a man, any man with her feelings, with them knowing who she was and the millions that she represented? Why would Cole Richards be any different from the others who had been attracted by the wealth and power? This time couldn’t be any different. Could it?

She turned on her left side, trying to still the racing beat of her heart. Even as she did visions of Cole, the scent of him, the feel and taste of him filled her.

She flipped onto her right side, pushing her face into the pillow. She’d just have to find some way of dealing with the irresponsible way he made her feel. She’d disguised her true feelings for years. This time wouldn’t be any different. Because Cole Richards was going to help her prove that Trent Dixon caused Jordan’s death whether he wanted to or not.

Nothing could interfere with that.




Chapter 6


Tempest spotted Noelle across the courtyard and waved to her. Even before Tempest reached where she stood, Noelle saw the lines of strain beneath the striking hazel eyes.

“Are you all right, chère?” Noelle asked when Tempest approached.

“Just a little tired,” Tempest answered lamely.

Noelle looked hard at her friend. “Now how long have we been friends?” Noelle taunted, tossing Tempest’s own question back at her.

Tempest sighed heavily and sat down on the bench beneath a huge transplanted palm tree. Noelle sat beside her and waited.

“Braxton left last night,” she blurted out.

Noelle frowned. “Just like that?” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

“Yes. Just like that.” Tempest repeated the gesture.

“I don’t understand.”

“He claims he has another job in Brazil that needs his immediate attention.”

“But isn’t your daughter, Kai, coming in today?”

Tempest nodded. “I’m on my way to the airport now to meet her and Mrs. Harding.”

“I thought Braxton was going to use this time to spend with you and Kai?”

“That’s what I thought,” Tempest complained. “We spent the entire night arguing about it. He still insisted that he had to go.”

That would explain why she didn’t see them at dinner last night, Noelle guessed. She searched for something comforting to say. “Perhaps it is important. I can’t imagine that he would leave without seeing his daughter if it wasn’t urgent.”

Tempest stood up, smoothing the aqua-colored suit jacket. She looked off toward the horizon.

“Things have been very strained between Braxton and me for a while,” she admitted softly. She turned toward Noelle. “Our schedules are so hectic we hardly see each other. Then when we do—” her voice trembled “—it’ salmost like we’re two strangers. It was never like that between us, even after being separated for those six years after I left Virginia and went to New York. When we found each other again it was like those lost years had never happened.”

Noelle was shocked. She’d always imagined that Tempest and Braxton were the perfect couple. If you had wanted to write a book about a happy marriage, they would be the ones to write about. They had been through so much to be together. It was hard for her to believe that their marriage could be in trouble. But then Noelle examined her own marriage. Everyone believed that it was My Fair Lady come true. But at what cost?

Noelle stood up and put her arm around Tempest’s shoulder. “I didn’t know,” she said gently. “I only wish that I had the answers to make things better. All I can say is that as long as you and Braxton continue to love each other, everything will work out. You’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right. And I do know that I love him, more than anything in the world.” She forced a smile, still unable to put into words what was truly troubling her. She pushed aside her troubles. “How about you? Are you feeling better today?”

Noelle wanted to tell her about her evening with Cole, about the way she felt when she was with him. She decided that it wasn’t the best time to discuss her budding feelings for Cole in light of Tempest’s problems.

“Actually, yes. As a matter of fact, I thought about what you said about the attorney. Maybe I will call him.”

“I think that’s the right decision. The worst that could happen is that he won’t tell you anything.”

Tempest checked her watch. “I’ve got to go. The flight is arriving in L.A. Mrs. Harding got my instructions wrong and booked the flight into LAX airport.”

An idea came to Noelle. “Would you mind some company?”

“Of course not. It’s not the shortest drive in the world.”

“Maybe I’ll just pay my attorney Monsieur Malone a surprise visit.”

Tempest brightened. “Perfect. I love surprises. If you catch him off guard he won’t have time to prepare a story.”

“Exactly!” Noelle grinned. She linked her arm through Tempest’s. “Let’s go.”



Trent meticulously reviewed the data that had been faxed to him on Liaisons. He’d set up a small office in his hotel suite in L.A. It was fully equipped with a computer, printer, a copy and a fax machine. He’d already had his computer linked via modem to the main headquarters in Sudan and in Hong Kong.

The financial stability of Liaisons was excellent. He’d verified the credibility of the accountants, attorneys and had conducted a background check on all of Liaisons’s staff.

As he leaned back in his chair he breathed a sigh of relief. Noelle Maxwell was unquestionably an astonishing businesswoman, not merely a woman in business. There were no outstanding debts. All of the structures exceeded building codes and revenue was pouring in.

If he had any doubts about her capabilities they had certainly been laid to rest.

He closed the thick manila folder and stood up, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets as he did. To look at her one would easily assume that she was merely a pampered heiress with delusions of grandeur, he mused. To the contrary, Noelle was a woman of substance, with talents yet untapped. But did she have what it took to manage an empire as complex as Jordan’s? More importantly would she be able to handle the truth once it was revealed to her and possibly give up her one dream to save Jordan’s? Of that he was still unsure.

His own personal feelings about her seemed to be clouding his judgment. He wanted her. He wanted her like he hadn’t wanted any other woman. And the intensity of his emotions made him feel vulnerable. A feeling that was totally foreign to him.

He’d already revealed too much to her last night. It had probably cost him his credibility in her eyes. He couldn’t let that happen again. He owed it to Jordan to see that the instructions of his will were carried out. Emotional entanglement with his widow was not part of the package.



“I’ll see you later this evening,” Noelle called out as Tempest waved and drove away.

For several moments Noelle stood in front of the building that housed Joseph Malone’s suite of offices. He was obnoxious as far as she was concerned and she knew that he didn’t hold her in very high regard. Whatever civility he showed her was purely due to the very large retainer that Jordan had paid him.

She pushed through the glass door and boarded the elevator to the third floor, wondering all the while what made her think that he would tell her anything.

The reception area was paneled with dark maplewood. Any semblance of sound was easily absorbed into the thick grey carpet. It reminded her of a scene from some old black-and-white “B” mystery movie. Yuk.

She walked directly to the secretary’s desk, with her three-inch, sling-back heels sinking into the carpet with each step. She had the hilarious notion of being swallowed by grey quicksand.

Alice Bernstein, the middle-aged secretary, looked up at her over her wire-rimmed glasses.

Her face flushed when she recognized Noelle. “Mrs. Maxwell, what brings you here?”

Force of habit compelled her to quickly check the appointment calendar on her desk. “I don’t see your name in the book.” She said the last word with an almost holy deference. “Was someone expecting you?” She removed her glasses and looked every bit like the affronted secretary.

“No Alice, I don’t have an appointment. But I would like to see Monsieur Malone. Is he free?”

Alice Bernstein’s silver curls seemed to spring to life.

“Oh—Mrs. Maxwell, you know that it is quite impossible to see Mr. Malone without an appointment.” She reshuffled the small, neat stack of files on her desk. Alice took pride in the one fact that her life was dictated by order. Any interference threw her completely off balance and the sudden appearance of Noelle Maxwell had done just that. She didn’t like it one bit. She reached for her always handy cup of water and took a sip. She immediately felt more composed and in control. She squared her chin.

“If you’d like to give me a date and time when you’re free, I’d be happy to…”

“I’m free right now, Alice. And I’d like it very much if you’d tell Monsieur Malone that I’m here,” she stated firmly.

Noelle stood her ground tossing back the icy stare with one of her own. Generally, Alice Bernstein had the ability to unnerve Noelle. Even as she stood before her, she had the inclination to make a bee line for the elevator. But she wouldn’t let the old general intimidate her today. She wasn’t leaving until she had accomplished what she’d come for.

Alice was completely astonished. She wasn’t used to anyone not following her instructions. Especially Noelle Maxwell. All one usually had to do was raise an eyebrow and she’d back down. When did she finally get some backbone? Alice had to admit, although never to Noelle, that she admired her nerve.

Alice loudly cleared her throat.

“If you’ll just have a seat over there.” With her pen she indicated a row of grey chairs. “I’ll see if Mr. Malone can spare you a few moments.” She picked up the phone.

Noelle released the long-held breath. “Thank you.”

Moments later, Joseph Malone flung open his door. “Noelle,” he boomed in a deep basso voice. “Please come in.”

It always amazed her that this reed of a man could have such a powerful voice. She supposed that’s what made him such a master in the courtroom. He was just as rangy and taut as ever, she noted. He’d always reminded her of a predator ready to swoop down on an unsuspecting victim.

As Noelle approached, he placed his bony arm protectively around her shoulder, ushering her into his office. Noelle cringed.

“Now, what can I do for you?”

Noelle took a seat opposite the maplewood desk and crossed her legs. She reached into her pocketbook and produced the letter from Jordan.

“I’d like you to explain this to me.”

Briefly he scanned the letter and returned it to her.

“I really can’t see how I can explain the contents, Noelle. I wasn’t privy to the…”

“Please don’t patronize me, Joseph. You know perfectly well what I mean. Where was this letter? And why am I just receiving it from your office?”

Joseph pursed his thin, pale lips, placing his index finger thoughtfully across them.

“I had instructions,” he said simply. “I was to have this envelope delivered to you, one day after the official opening of Liaisons.”

“What? Jordan didn’t even know that I would go through with it.”

“Perhaps. But, if and when you did, you were to receive this letter.”

Noelle exhaled heavily. “Is there anything else I should know, Joseph?”

The pain in her voice almost touched him, but he pushed it away. He was no longer obligated to her. The last retainer check had been cashed upon delivery of the letter. But why did she have to look at him with those eyes so full of anguish? Something inside of his chest twisted.

He cleared his throat. “There is a codicil to your late husband’s will.”

“What are you talking about? I was there when it was read.”

Joseph nodded indulgently. “Yes and according to my instructions, the codicil was only to be read by Trent Dixon.”

Her head began to pound.

“I see.” She stood up. “And I suppose I’m not to be privy to that either?”

“I’m afraid not. My instructions were quite clear.”

“Thank you for your time, Joseph,” she tossed at him, more annoyed at herself for having thought that their encounter could have been any different.

He rounded the desk, reaching the door a step before her.

“I wish there was something else I could tell you, Noelle,” he said with as much sincerity as he could summon.

Noelle only nodded as she crossed the threshold.

Joseph had a rare attack of conscience as he watched her leave.

“Maybe Mr. Dixon would be willing to tell you. I understand he’s here in Los Angeles.”

Noelle halted her step and turned around. “How do you know?” Her heart thundered.

“I called the headquarters in Sudan yesterday. I was told he’d come to California two days ago.”



Trent finished the last of his paperwork. Languidly he stretched his tight muscles. He had to get out of this room. Hours on the phone and behind the computer had left him numb. A long flight around the countryside would be ideal about now. But what he really wanted to do was return to Liaisons and see Noelle. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. She seemed to creep into his thoughts at the most inopportune times. Like now.

The throbbing between his thighs was almost unbearable. Maybe what he really needed was a cold shower.

He switched off the humming machines, grabbed his denim jacket and headed out of the door.



Noelle exited the building and proceeded to walk, oblivious to the rows of boutiques and the flow of human traffic.

Trent Dixon was somewhere in Los Angeles. He was the only one who had the answers to her questions. The thought of his proximity unnerved her. Why was he here? Had he come to spy on her? He could be anywhere, walking right beside her and she wouldn’t know it. That fact raised her blood pressure. She didn’t have the faintest notion of what he looked like. He’d never accompanied Jordan on his trips to the U.S., since he was responsible for operations in Jordan’s absence. Trent Dixon could run her over with a Mack truck, right this minute, and she wouldn’t know it was him. Her temper rose as her thoughts ran in circles.

The head-on collision knocked her purse from her hand.

“Noelle?” Trent instinctively grabbed her shoulders to steady her, then reached down to retrieve her purse. “Are you okay?”

“Y-es,” she stammered, surprised and embarrassed to see Cole Richards in the middle of Los Angeles. “I’m fine. Sorry. I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“You must be deep in thought.”

She gave him a weak smile. “Something like that.” She took a quick look around, observing her surroundings for the first time. The large marquee of the hotel loomed above her head and her thoughts scurried off in a dangerous direction.

He was probably there to meet someone, she thought. Did he spend the night here after he’d left her weak from his kisses?

An unfamiliar wave of jealousy swept through her. Her body tensed.

“Did you think about my request?” she asked in a tight voice.

Confusion registered on Trent’s face with the swift change in Noelle’s mood.

“Is something bothering you, Noelle?”

“What else could be bothering me?” she almost snapped. She looked away unable to meet the questioning gaze.

Trent avoided answering the question, by posing one of his own. “I was going to get something to eat. I’d like it very much if you’d join me. Then we can talk. Would you?”

When she dared to look back at him, she was, once again, consumed by those onyx eyes that had haunted her nights, by the lips that she longed to taste again and by the captivating scent that heated her blood.

He’d begun to think that she hadn’t heard him or had chosen not to respond—when she finally answered.

“Do you know your way around?” she asked in that sexy faint accent that drove him crazy.

“Maybe you can give me the tour again,” he replied, his tone intentionally intimate.

Noelle cleared her throat. “There’s a great outdoor café about a block down. I’m sure you’d like it.”

“With you, I’m sure I would.”

For a brief moment they both stared at each other, the busy world around them going totally unnoticed.

“We’re going to cause a scene in a minute,” Trent said, his smile teasing. “People are beginning to stare.”

Self-consciously Noelle looked around, feeling that everyone could see what was going on inside of her.

Her voice was slightly tremulous. “Then I guess we should be going.”

Trent slipped her arm through the curve of his. “Lead the way.”



Lunch was brief, almost strained. Both of them were harboring their own thoughts and skirting the real issues that bubbled like molten lava beneath their composed surfaces.

“You were right about this place,” Trent offered, breaking the rather long train of silence. “The food here is great.” He smiled. “But they can’t touch Liaisons’s with a stick.”

“I hope that everyone who comes will feel the same way.” She fiddled with her napkin to avoid looking at him.

Trent reached across the table to still her fingers. He covered her hand with his. The immediate warmth spread through her.

“I thought about your request to…find out what happened.”

She looked directly at him and his stomach lurched with longing.

“And?”

“And I’ve decided to help you.”

The brilliant smile that he received was worth all the deceit.

“Thank you. I’ll make it worth your while. Whatever the price.”

His brows creased both in disbelief and guilt. “I couldn’t possibly take any money from you.” His voice rose in agitation. “I’m not doing this for the money.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, but I think it would only be fair. In fact, I insist.”

Trent’s jaw clenched. He looked away. How could he possibly accept money from her knowing that the person she was looking for was sitting right in front of her and that he would have to do whatever was necessary to keep that information from her until the time was right.

His gaze returned to her. “I won’t accept anything from you until after the job is done. That’s the only way,” he added firmly.

Noelle considered for a moment. “If that’s the only way you’ll agree, then I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“Then it’s settled.”

She nodded.

Trent leaned back in his seat and exhaled deeply. What in the hell had he gotten himself into?

“Do you have plans for the rest of the day?” he asked.

“No, I don’t, actually. I was supposed to call the villa and send for a car and driver, but after my visit with Joseph Ma-lone…”

The mention of Malone’s name caused Trent’s pulse to gallop. He’d completely forgotten about the carnivorous attorney. He was the one person who could identify him on sight.

“…so your job may not be so difficult after all.”

Trent slowly returned to the conversation. “What? I’m sorry.”

“I said, Joseph Malone told me that Trent Dixon was here in Los Angeles.”

Just great. “That will make things easier,” he said lamely.

A thought occurred to Noelle. “You spent time in Sudan with Jordan,” she stated more than asked. “Did you ever meet Trent Dixon? What does he look like?”

Oh, God. Trent cleared his throat. “I never had the chance to meet him. I guess our paths just didn’t cross. Why don’t we get out of here?” Trent suggested, before Noelle had a chance to respond. He swiftly wiped his mouth and pushed away from the table.

Before Noelle knew what was happening he was standing behind her chair to help her up.

Her eyebrows arched. “Why are you in such a rush all of a sudden? Is something wrong?” she asked in bewilderment.

“Of course not. But there’s no point in sitting here when we can be exploring. You did promise to show me around.” He forced a smile as they walked toward the door.

Noelle shrugged to camouflage her confusion. “I guess we could drive out to the movie studios, or into Beverly Hills.” She looked at him skeptically. “What do you want to do?”

He wanted to say, get as much distance between me and Malone as possible, but instead, “How about a drive out to the beach? Next to flying, the waves always help me to think. The sun will be setting in a few hours. It’s been a long time since I saw the sun set over the water.”

His full lips curved into that sensuous smile that made her feel weak.

“It sounds wonderful.”

Her voice felt like the brush of silk against his ears. “My car is in the hotel garage.”

The mention of the hotel caused Noelle’s initial misgivings and jealousies to resurface. It was ridiculous to feel this way, she knew, but for whatever reason, she couldn’t seem to help it.

Trent watched the warm brown eyes turn suddenly cold and distant.

“Noelle, for the last time, what is it?”





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