T is for Temptation (46 page)

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Authors: Jianne Carlo

BOOK: T is for Temptation
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“Open the back door, Alex. Do you mind driving?” He wriggled into the seat, careful not to jolt the precious bundle in his arms.

“No problem. You’ll have to give me directions, though. I was asleep most of the way here.”

His cell vibrated, and Jake fumbled with his belt clip. “Mathews speaking.”

Henry.

“Where?” A muscle under his right eye jumped as he listened.

Alex turned around in the driver’s seat, one arm draped along the headrest.

 
“Why?”

His friend lifted one eyebrow.

 
“Tee needs medical attention, Henry. She’s been unconscious since we found her.”

When Alex jangled the keys, Jake nodded.

“I don’t like it.” He shifted Tee to the right. “Okay. We’ll be there in two hours.”

The SUV’s engines roared to life, the sound discordant in the peace and quiet of the English pastoral setting. Brown birds previously occupying a thick communication wire cackled a noisy protest as their flock took to flight.

“What did Henry have to say?”

“Flood wants us to take Tee to the Met’s main office.”

“And you objected?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

For long moments Alex stared at him. “You do realize that if someone at Arthur’s level is involved in all of this, we’re up a creek?”

“Tell me I’m crazy to even suspect him.”

“Can’t. So what do we do?”

“Take her there and watch our backs.”

“Henry?”

“Blast if I know what to do there. The man would never believe Arthur’s involved. These guys go back years.”

“It’d be like me suspecting you.”

“Yeah. Drive, buddy, and let’s bounce things around. Maybe inspiration will hit.”

Two hours later, Alex negotiated their car into a miniscule parking spot one block away from the Met’s headquarters. He opened the back door.

Jake stumbled as he exited the vehicle and leaned against the side of the car. He straightened and shifted Tee to adjust to walking with her in his arms.

“Are you going to carry her all the way?”

“Seeing as she isn’t conscious, do I have any other choice?”

“You don’t have to snap.”

Jake cut a path through the crowd of pedestrians on the sidewalk. No one glanced twice in their direction, a clear stamp of the famous British stoicism. Security directed them to the top floor of the Met building. An armed guard accompanied them.

“Tee,” Henry greeted them at the elevator. He closed his eyes. “She’s safe, thank goodness.”

“She hasn’t stirred once. Did you get a doctor?”

“Yes, he’s waiting for us. Follow me.” Henry led them to a wooden double door.

“Jake, Alex. Good to see you again.” Sir Arthur Flood stood up. “This is our resident doctor, Dr. Carmichael.”

A short, wiry man stood next to him.

“Coffee, tea? Help yourself.” Arthur motioned to a side table.

“Why don’t you put her on the sofa?” the doctor suggested. “I need to examine her.”

Reluctantly, Jake lowered Tee to the couch. He snatched a throw from the back of the chair and wrapped it around her socked feet. Nudging a stool close to the bed, he caged her hand between both of his palms. She had warmed up in the car, and her body temperature seemed normal.

“This will take a few minutes. I’m going to draw her blood. The lab’s on standby. They’ll analyze the sample and let us know the results in no time at all. Do you mind, young man?”

Jake released Tee’s hand, strode over to the buffet table, and poured a mug of coffee. Alex mimicked his actions, but he added three cubes of sugar to the brown liquid, while Jake drank his black.

They waited in silence while a messenger ran down two floors to the lab. Arthur and Henry murmured political platitudes while Jake and Alex dissected their every word to no avail. Tee didn’t budge. Not a limb twitched, even though Jake willed her awake, lucid. He needed to hear her voice utter a single syllable.

The messenger returned fifteen minutes later and handed a folded slip of paper to the doctor.

“Gentlemen,” he said and cleared his throat. “Mrs. Trent’s blood contains a large dose of propofol and a trace of Sodium Pentothal.”

“Isn’t Sodium Pentothal truth serum?” Alex asked.

“Yes, the combination of the two drugs would send your daughter unconscious for six to eight hours.”

“The truth serum?” Jake probed.

“Once she regained consciousness, she’d answer any questions asked of her.”

Alex and Jake exchanged uneasy glances.

The elevator bell dinged, and the men turned to face the open doors. Three men sprinted through the entrance to the room.

“Problem?” Flood inquired.

“Fire on the second floor,” one of the men gasped out. “We have to clear the building.”

“I don’t like this one bit,” Alex murmured. “Let’s stick together.”

“Why didn’t they take the stairs?”

Alex cut to Jake. “Salient point. The alarm hasn’t gone off, either. Maggie May.”

The old code word triggered a watershed of possessiveness and alarm Jake scooped Tee into his arms and headed for the doorway. Alex and he assumed protective positions with the other man flanking Jake’s rear. At the precise second they reached the doorway, the piercing shrieks of smoke alarms filled the air. Water sprinklers on the ceiling sprang to life, drenching them in a hard splatter of icy water.

Jake slung Tee over his shoulder. He strode to the emergency exit. The three Scotland Yard men followed close on his heels. Alex hung behind until they entered the stairwell and then followed inches away from the last Yard representative. Jake slowed his pace, slithering behind two of the men using the thick smoke to disguise his exact position. Switching Tee to his arms, he shouldered the ground floor door open. Air, so thick and smoky it seemed to smolder, encircled them, thickening their lungs to wheezing point. One of the men grabbed Jake’s arm from behind.

“Alex!” he roared. “Maggie May!”

Jake kicked the man’s knee and elbowed him. From the rear, the other man tried to pull Tee out of his arms. Jake tightened his hold across her legs. He pivoted and kicked his right foot high, hitting his attacker’s jaw. The man’s legs flew out from under him and he landed on his back. Jake stumbled against the wall, shifted Tee onto his shoulder and drove his right fist into the second man, knuckles burning on impact, and, without a second’s hesitation, he swiveled in the direction of an explosion. Five feet away, the last of the three men pointed a gun at his head.

“Drop her now!” the man shouted.

Alex appeared behind his attacker and smashed a red fire extinguisher across the man’s skull. “Behind you, Jake. Duck.”

He crouched to the floor. Alex jumped over him.

“Run. Get Tee out of here. It’s an ambush.”

Jake sprang up and glanced over his shoulder. Alex and another man scuffled on the floor near the stairwell. He broke into a sprint in the direction of the reception area.

A wall of people blocked the revolving door at the entrance to the building. Doing an about-face, he ran in the opposite direction and bumped into Alex in front of the door to the stairs.

“The underground garage.” Alex held the door open. “Let’s go.” He followed Jake down the steps.

“The fire was a ruse. I knew we shouldn’t have come back here.” Metal clanked as they rushed down the stairs. The sound of pounding footsteps and urgent shouts from floors above echoed around them.

The underground parking garage was empty of activity, but full of cars. Alex tested each automobile as he went down the line of vehicles. At the second row, he found an open door. “This one.” He popped the hood. “You drive. I’ll hot-wire it.” He disappeared under the front of the automobile.

Jake slid Tee into the passenger side and buckled her in. He swung into the driver’s seat and waited mere seconds before the car’s engine roared to life.

“Where are we going?” Alex hopped into the back seat.

“To get the trunk.”

“Crap. I don’t want to go back to 1501.”

“It’s the safest place for Tee right now.” He inched the car into the snarled
London
traffic. “It may be better if you stay behind anyway. Keep the suite at Claridge’s. I’ll check with you every evening.”

It took thirty minutes to reach the hotel.

“Alex, you go in and get the trunk. I don’t want to leave Tee for a minute.”

“I’ll be right back.” Alex unclipped his seatbelt and jumped out of the vehicle.

Jake’s jangled nerves stopped sparking, and his pulse had returned to normal. He glanced at Tee and reached over to brush her cheek with the back of his hand. A tap on the window prompted him to look up. He discovered Alex holding the chest and an emergency kit.

Jake pressed the down button for the driver’s window. “Thanks, buddy.” He took the objects. “Let Henry know we’re safe, but make sure he doesn’t tell anyone, including Sir Arthur where we are.”

“You still think Flood might be involved?”

“I suspect everyone at this point except you, Henry, and me.” Jake put the chest on the floor in front of the passenger seat. “See you soon.”

“Good luck.” Alex moved away from the car.

He drove the Land Rover to the M4. At the first service stop, he exited and steered the vehicle to the far corner of the parking lot. Dropping the car keys into his pocket, he shifted Tee onto his lap, picked up the pirate chest, and opened it, repeating the Gaelic phrase his mother had taught him.

Happy Ever Afters

The attic room at
Brodick
Castle
still contained the double bed and the footed bathtub. Jake placed a hand on Tee’s forehead and found her skin warm and dry. The open window behind the bed let in a chilly breeze. He closed it and tucked her under the covers. The fire in the grate gave off a low glow. He added timber and logs and built the blaze back up.

Night had fallen in the few minutes spent at the fireplace, and he shucked off his shoes and clothes and slipped into the bed, drawing her under the crook of his arm. She murmured something unintelligible and snuggled closer, laying her cheek on his chest. Content, he listened to her deep, even breathing and drifted off.

He awoke to the sound of retching and shot to a sitting position. His alarm skyrocketed when he saw Tee vomiting into the bathtub.

“It’s probably the drugs they gave you.” He hopped off the bed, snatched the white emergency kit Alex had given him, and shook out an Aleve painkiller. He poured water from an earthenware jug on the bedside table into a goblet and took it to her.

“Here.” He handed the cup to her and dropped the pill into her palm. “Take this.”

She complied and then leaned against the wall, handed him the cup, and closed her eyes. “I don’t feel well.”

"I know, babe.” He tucked a stray curl behind her ears. “Do you remember what happened?”

She shook her head. “Ooh. That makes me so dizzy. My head hurts.”

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