T is for Temptation (39 page)

“What?”

Alex rolled his eyes.

Elaine halted two maids holding large pitchers. “Take those over there.” She pointed to the head table. “Do you like red or white wine, Jamie?”

“Jake. Both, either is fine.”

“Which do you prefer, Jamie?”

“Jake. Red, I prefer red.”

“Alex, why does Jamie want to leave Brodick?”

“Do you know where we came from Lady Ferguson?” Alex asked.

“Call me Elaine, sweet boy. You have such a beautiful face, not that yours isn’t perfectly handsome, Jamie. Do you even have whiskers?” She tiptoed and rubbed her hand across Alex’s cheek.

Tiny broke into loud guffaws.

Alex glowered at him.

“We came from the year 2007,” he offered.

“Oh, how interesting. Jamie, you don’t want to stay because you prefer the future?” Elaine directed a manservant carrying a silver platter bearing a small suckling pig to the head table. Aromatic smells from cooked apples and succulent roasted pork permeated the air.

“Yes, no. I don’t know.” Jake’s brain seemed stuck on rewind.

“He wants to go back to find Tee.” Alex’s bald statement punctuated the noisy clanking of dishes and silverware.

“Tee’s Jamie’s witch,” Stephen added.

Elaine’s blur of activity stopped abruptly. She spun on her heels and stuck her chin out. “You own a witch?”

Jake thought he saw smoke coming out of her ears. “Of course not. One human being can’t own another.” He looked to Stephen for guidance. His brother shrugged. He was on his own.

“So, exactly who is this Tee?” Elaine tapped a slippered foot against the stone floor. “I’m waiting, Jamie.”

“Jake,” he muttered. “Tee is my, um, my”—he hunted the room for an escape—“my girlfriend,” he blurted out.

“Girlfriend?” Elaine repeated. The fragile peach skin on her forehead crinkled. “Are you courting this Tee?”

“Yes.” He sighed, relieved the end of the interrogation appeared in sight.

“You love this Tee?” Elaine probed.

Love, Jake thought. He didn’t know if it was love he felt. He just knew the thought of never seeing her again scared him harebrained. His heart ached with need. A cataclysmic realization hit him; it deep-sixed rational thought, behavior. He wanted Tee for a lifetime, not a month, not three, forever—till death do us part forever. And she’d wanted three days.

“Leave the boy alone, Elaine,” Kieran ordered. His tone brooked no argument.

“Alex, does Tee love Jamie?”

“Oh no. I’m not getting between the two of you.” Alex shook his head. “Ask Jake, not me.”

“Tee may be in trouble. I need to get back to her.” Jake swallowed, and he looked his mother straight in the eye. “She needs me.”

“Will you stay for the evening meal, Son?”

“I don’t know how to get back to her or even where she is.” Jake shrugged. “I’ll be here until I can figure something out.”

Elaine tiptoed. “Bend down, Son.”

He dropped his head.

She kissed his cheek. “Close your eyes.”At his grimace, she shook her head. “Don’t argue with your mother. Close your eyes.”

Jake let his lids fall.

“Open your hands.” Something small but heavy dropped into his palms. “You can open your eyes now, Son.”

His eyelids flew up, and he broke into a broad smile. “Is it?”

Elaine had dropped an exact copy of
Douglas
’s miniature trunk into his hands.

“When you open it, it will take you where you want to go.”

Ecstatic, Jake picked Elaine up with one hand and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” He paused and added, “Mother.”

“Oh, Son. Jamie, I love you.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Oh no. Don’t start.” He cringed and waited for the waterworks to flood his mother’s face.

However, she smiled wanly, sniffed a couple of times, and her pink mouth settled into a satisfied, maternal smile of contentment.

“Jamie, there is a caveat attached to my gift. I am forbidden from traveling through time unless I find a way around a spell set on me when I married your father. I cannot travel to you, but you can use the chest to come to me. Whosoever touches you while you open the lid travels with you. There are Gaelic words carved into the trunk. When you speak them and open the lid, it will take you to me, wherever I am. This chest is designed to magnify your gifts, whatever they are. Use it wisely and sparsely.”

Jake nodded. “Of course.” He hesitated. “If Alex and I touch the chest when I open it, he’ll come with me?”

“Yes, Jamie, once he’s next to you. It’s best if only the people who will travel are in the room. If you’re not traveling to me, then you must use the trunk differently. Know where you want to go, place and time, close your eyes, and visualize it in detail. Then lift the chest’s lid. Do not speak the Gaelic words.”

The evening meal seemed interminable. Jake focused on conversing with his mother and father. Stephen and Tiny made caustic comments about every aspect of his and Alex’s appearance and behavior. By the time the servants served the last course, Jake’s impatience threatened to overwhelm his good manners. Kieran rescued him by rising from the table and toasting their safe journey.

Jake jumped down from the dais. “Come on, buddy. The attic room.” He strode to the staircase.

Halfway there he halted, pivoted, and walked back to the table. He kissed his mother and shook hands with his brother and his father.

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

The chest took Jake and Alex back to the Davies suite at Claridge’s. While Alex grumbled about their missing belongings, Jake took the elevator to the lobby. To his utter relief, he saw George Brown’s sandy-blond shock of hair bent over the concierge desk. Brown tapped a pen against his temple. As Jake approached, he caught a glimpse of the Times crossword puzzle.

“George, you cannot begin to imagine how good it is to see your face.” Jake beamed at him and clapped him on his shoulder.

“Mr. Mathews, sir, wonderful to see you again. You may be interested to know Mrs. Trent stopped by earlier today.”

He wanted to kiss the man. “Tee was here. Thank God.” He clapped George on the shoulder again.

Brown straightened and took two steps back effectively putting himself out of the range of Jake’s arm.

“What did she want? Why isn’t she in the suite upstairs? Hell, I didn’t check her room. Is she upstairs?”

“Mrs. Trent is not in the Davies suite. I believe she’s staying with her father at Grosvenor House.”

“I wonder why Henry’s in
London
.” Jake drummed his fingers on the desk. “It doesn’t matter. Why did she stop by?”

“Looking for you, sir.” Three vertical lines formed in between Brown’s eyebrows.

“How long was Tee here?”

George cleared his throat. “Actually, sir, Mrs. Trent had lunch with my mother. They spoke for some time.”

“How did that come about?”

Brown groaned. “It’s a sin for a grown man to have to admit this, sir. My mother walked me to work. She met your wife, ah, I mean Mrs. Trent in the women's facilities. Mrs. Trent invited her to lunch.”

“Do you know Grosvenor House at all?”

“I certainly do, Mr. Mathews. My cousin is the concierge at the Grosvenor.”

An idiotic smile spread across his face. “You’re my man, George Brown. I presume Tee and Henry are staying in a suite. By chance, can you find out which one?”

“Of course. My cousin’s on duty until,” he said and checked his watch, “
midnight
. I’ll ring him up.”

“I know this is stretching it, but do you think you can get me a key to the suite tonight? I’d like to surprise Tee.”

“Ah, Mr. Mathews, I relish a challenge.” He quirked an eyebrow. “It’ll take me half an hour to arrange everything.”

“My debt to you is going to rival the
US
national deficit.”

Brown cleared his throat. “I took the liberty of ordering the maids to clear everything from your suite while the detectives were in pursuit of you three. I have a few odds and ends and some of Mrs. Trent's nightwear.”

“Is there anything you really want in life?” Jake saw a flicker in the other man’s hazel eyes. “There is. Tell me about it.”

“I fancy owning a pub and a bed and breakfast on an island in the
Caribbean
. I buy a lottery ticket weekly. Who knows?”

“Who indeed? Hold that thought.” Callum Ferguson’s land in
Tobago
sprang to mind, and he grinned. “We may be able to make your dream become reality.”

“Mr. Mathews, sir, are you serious?”

“Deadly, George, deadly, and I think we can drop the formalities. Let’s stick with Jake. Deal?” He stretched out his hand, elation and a giddy joy coursing through his veins.

George beamed and shook hands with him.

Two hours later, Jake thanked the Grosvenor’s concierge for his assistance. “Are you absolutely positive this is Mrs. Trent’s entrance to the suite? Her father is in the other room, and there’ll be hell to pay if I sneak into his room by mistake.”

“I would bet my life on it, sir. The maid did a turndown service at ten this evening. Mr. Inglefield refused it, but Mrs. Trent allowed the maid in and chose from a selection of chocolates.”

Jake palmed a bill to the concierge as he shook the man’s hand. “Thank you.”

He inserted the key card into the slot, slipped the door open, and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The scent of roses, lavender, and spice perfumed the room. Jake let out one of those long, satisfying exhales.

Tee lay on the bed, curled up on her side with the blankets kicked down to her knees and both hands slipped under one cheek. Her sweetness pierced his soul. A lump rose in his throat, and Jake sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his woman. Never again would he be parted from her.

His pulse pounded. He cradled his throbbing head in his hands. The sour taste of fear rolled across his tongue. He had never needed anyone before, but the fact he did now couldn’t be escaped. Resignation worked its way into his thoughts. Reality had changed, and he had to deal with it.

He undressed in record time, letting his clothing fall to the carpeted floor, slid onto the bed, and scooted over to center of the mattress. Jake snaked an arm around Tee’s waist and drew her T-shirt-clad form against his chest.

Drawn to the curve of her neck, he nuzzled the sugary skin there and breathed in, relishing that Tee scent, heaven, and home. He closed his eyes and savored a moment of absolute contentment. His arousal had other ideas. It jerked against the small of Tee’s back.

She stirred. “Mmm. Jake?”

“I’m right here, witchy woman. Damn, I missed you.”

Her eyes flew open. “Jake. Jake. It’s you. You’re here. Oh, thank God.”

She spun in his arms and tangled her hands in his hair. Tee dropped butterfly kisses on his chest, to the pulse at his neck, up his throat, all along his jawline and finally covered his lips with hers.