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Authors: Lori Foster

Too Much Temptation (7 page)

BOOK: Too Much Temptation
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“The likes of him,
Jorge?” That was an insult Agatha couldn’t accept because it reflected badly on her. “Noah comes from my family, from my blood, and that’s as good as it gets. Or are you trying to denigrate me now?”

Jorge relented. “No, of course not, Agatha. It’s just that this is all very difficult. I don’t like the idea of my little girl chasing any man.”

“Kara needn’t be blatant about it,” Agatha soothed, when what she really wanted to do was smack Jorge. “Kara could visit the restaurant more, perhaps flirt with a few other men. That might spark Noah’s jealousy.”

Hillary and Jorge started to object, and Kara cut them both off. “That’s a wonderful idea, Agatha. I’ll give it a try.” She hugged Agatha tightly, absurdly pleased by the suggestion.

Heart in her throat, Agatha returned Kara’s embrace. As weak-willed as Kara might be, Agatha adored her, and she badly wanted her for her granddaughter-in-law. Kara was sweet and kind and gentle, and she had an enormous heart. She also went out of her way to make her parents proud—unlike Noah, who seemed to take berserk delight in tweaking Agatha’s temper.

Together, they would give her incredible great-grandchildren, and Noah’s future would be set.

“All right, then. We still have a little time before the wedding. Not much, but maybe it will be enough. For now, we won’t make any announcements.”

Jorge looked stiff enough to crack. “We can give it two weeks. But then guests will be arriving if we don’t tell them the wedding is off.”

“Two weeks,” Kara repeated.

Agatha watched from the doorway as they went out to Jorge’s sporty Lexus convertible. Hillary was already tying a scarf around her fair hair, while Kara sat in the backseat, her face lifted to the sun. Something didn’t add up; there was more going on than the obvious.

Agatha shook her head and turned away. She could hear Grace and Noah talking. Now to face down them both.

Sometimes it was hell being the matriarch.

 

Grace propped her hands on her hips and said, “No.” She wasn’t about to relent on something so important, regardless of what Noah thought about it.

Noah had claimed he only wanted to “direct” her in the bedroom, but Grace had her doubts about that, based on his autocratic behavior so far.

“Grace…” Noah warned. His silky dark hair hung over his brow and his blue eyes glittered with menace.

“No what?” Agatha asked as she reentered the room.

Grace dismissed Noah’s silent warning and rushed up to Agatha, determined to make her understand. “No, I won’t let him take the blame for this.” Noah had accepted enough blame lately. No way would Grace knowingly add to it. She sucked in a breath, braced herself, and blurted in all honesty, “Noah was drunk and I took shameful advantage of him.”

Agatha tripped to a halt in her sensible tan pumps. Her faded blue eyes were first disbelieving, then hot with incredulity.

Noah laughed, raised his arms as if to say, “What can I do?” and dropped into a creaky leather chair, at his leisure. He stretched out his long legs, now clad in comfortable, clean, and pressed khaki slacks. He laced his fingers together over his abdomen and watched Grace.

Grace swallowed hard, as always affected just by the sight of him. She’d watched Noah dress that morning, had seen him in nothing more than a towel, felt his big, strong body pressing down on her.

She shivered with the memory. Noah was so gorgeous, so incredible. He was hairy, but not too much so. Muscled just right. Warm and hard and tall and strong…

Next to him, even with his beard stubble and red eyes, Grace felt like a limp, dingy rag. A pudgy rag.

She mentally dug in, determined to do what she knew to be right. She couldn’t be distracted with thoughts of sex. “It’s true, Noah, and you know it.”

He shrugged. “It’s true I was drunk.”

“Mourning your hasty decision about Kara?” Agatha quipped. Her tone was far from pleasant. In fact, Grace would have categorized it as deliberately provoking.

Noah didn’t seem to notice. “Celebrating, actually.”

Agatha drew back. For a brief moment she looked hurt. “Why, Noah?”

He met her level gaze. “Sorry, but I told you, that’s private.”

Grace moved to stand in front of him again, wishing she could somehow protect his heart. To most people, Noah probably looked stubborn, and as durable as a granite cliff.

To Grace, he appeared vulnerable and chivalrous, and she wished with all her heart that Agatha would tell him she understood, that she believed in him and trusted his judgment. She wished Agatha would show him that he was loved.

Her wishes were in vain.

Agatha took them both in with a shrewd glance. “If only you’d kept this unseemly little liaison private. You hide your reasons for publicly humiliating a family we’ve counted as close friends for too many years to count and flaunt an indiscretion.”

“Unseemly?” Grace sputtered in indignation.

Agatha ignored her. “However, since you didn’t keep it private, you’ve ruined Grace, probably along with any chance you had of reconciling with Kara. I hope you’re ready to deal with the consequences.”

Slowly and with a good dose of menace, Noah pushed to his feet. “I don’t want to reconcile with Kara. And as to Grace, I—”

Without conscious thought, Grace took his hand. It was large and warm, and despite his being the grandson of a very wealthy and influential woman, his fingertips were rough from outdoor work and play.

As they locked fingers, Grace saw Agatha take note of the telling gesture. “Noah did not ruin me,” she said, struggling for a calm she didn’t feel, “even though I was more than willing to be thoroughly ruined.”

“Grace Jenkins!”

Noah stared at the ceiling, but his shoulders trembled with silent laughter.

“It’s true, Agatha.
I
went to his house.
I
knew he was drunk, but still I stayed. And
I
was the one who—”

Grace’s words were cut off by Noah’s big hand. He pulled her back into his chest and with a hold on her hand and mouth, held her securely. He even rocked her a little.

She liked it. When she tipped her head back to see him, he winked.

To Agatha, he explained, “Grace is a little distraught at having missed the meeting. She takes her work very seriously.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Agatha replied sharply. Her gaze narrowed in challenge. “Then again, under the circumstances, it hardly matters, does it?”

Grace stilled at those shrewd, cutting words. With her free hand, she reached up for Noah’s thick wrist and gently pried his fingers from her mouth. Tension had invaded him; she felt it and wondered that Agatha didn’t also. “What are you talking about, Agatha?”

Agatha sniffed and patted at her silver hair. “You’ve shown a distinct lack of morals, Grace. The Callens are friends, very dear friends.”

“I know that.” Grace’s heart thumped and her stomach tightened.

“Of course you do. You’ve worked with them, through me, many times. We deal with them socially and through business on a regular basis. I’m sure you can see how awkward this would be for all of us.” Agatha turned away to stride to her desk. She didn’t go to the chair but chose instead to perch on the edge, her ankles crossed and her head lifted in challenge. She was a tall woman, quite slender, and even at seventy-eight, she had an imposing air.

Noah held Grace a little tighter. She felt his frustration and his growing anger. “What would be awkward, Agatha? Spell it out.”

“Why, Grace working for me.” Agatha straightened a paper, moved a pen. “She’s involved herself in this sordid little contretemps, and unfortunately, there’s no way to extricate her now. It would be an insult to the Callens, and to Kara especially, to keep her on.”

Grace sank into Noah, grateful for his support since her legs had turned to rubber. “I’m fired?”

“Bullshit, Agatha,” Noah all but shouted over Grace’s head. “You better rethink this.”

“Watch your mouth, Noah! I won’t tolerate that language in my house.”

“I’m fired?” Grace asked again. They both ignored her.

“And I won’t tolerate you using Grace against me.”

“You’re the one using her,” Agatha challenged, “to embarrass Kara, and to hurt me.”

“No one is using me.” Again, she was ignored.

“She’ll be better off taken out of the equation.” Agatha glanced at her nails. “Or are you going to tell me that you really care for her?”

Grace bit her lip, then almost tripped when Noah took an angry step forward. Because she was in front of him, she had to move, too.

“You couldn’t find a better secretary and assistant if you paid double Grace’s salary and you know it, Agatha.”

“I’ll make do.” She glanced up. “I’ll have to, since I have no intention of further insulting your fiancée.”


Ex
-fiancée,” Noah ground out.

“I’m really fired?” Grace couldn’t quite grasp it. She’d never been fired in her life. Of course, she’d never had a man of Noah’s appeal hugged around her either. Yet he was there, all but holding her up. Indignant on her behalf.

Agatha gave Grace a pitying look. “I’m afraid so, dear. I’ll give you two weeks’ pay, of course.”

Well hell, Grace thought.

Noah forcibly set Grace aside and confronted his grandmother nose to nose. Agatha was tall, but Noah towered over most men. He made his grandmother seem diminutive in comparison. She didn’t back down. She glared up at him with the same blue eyes, only hers were faded with time.

“Fine.” Noah’s smile was not a nice thing. “You’re on your own now, Agatha.”

Despite Agatha’s usual bravado, her face paled. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m finished. I know you put on that little show of disowning me, but you haven’t had your hand in the actual day-to-day work in years. I figured you’d be calling in no time, looking for a way to make me keep things running for you. Odds are, I’d have done it, too. But not now.”

Agatha scowled, and Grace saw her eyes darken with a measure of guilt. Obviously, Noah knew how his grandmother’s mind worked.

“You have no interest in Harper’s Bistro, is that what you’re telling me?” Agatha tried to brazen out the situation, but Grace saw the worry in her eyes, and it bothered her. She didn’t want grandmother and grandson growing further apart.

Though Grace knew it wasn’t true, Noah said, “I have no interest in any of your businesses.”

“They were
our
businesses.”

“Maybe—before you disowned me and fired Grace. But I’m sure you remember how to keep it all running. The boards for all the charitable organizations will welcome you back, I’m sure. They barely accepted me as your representative anyway. And Lord knows you’ll have no problem finding an informed escort to take you to the political functions fast approaching.”

Agatha looked more furious by the moment. Furious—and panicked. Grace wondered if Agatha even realized how full her social calendar had become. She had a lot of obligations pending, and without Noah to assist her, she’d either have to start canceling or be busy every night.

“And the restaurant,” Noah continued, “well hell, Agatha. You started it, so I have no doubt you remember how to keep it running.”

Agatha thumped her fist on the desk. “You’ve hired all new people! And you’ve repeatedly ignored my suggestions on schedules and pay and…”

“So now’s your chance to change things your way. Have fun. Just don’t come to me when it all blows up in your face.” Noah turned and caught Grace’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Grace was forced to skip along beside him or be dragged. She felt sick at heart, seeing the enmity grow between them. She’d wanted to mend things, not make them worse.

Agatha hadn’t been on her own in too many years. She was older now, and despite her assurances to the contrary, her age had caught up to her. Grace kept track of everything for her, and handled all her day-to-day affairs. She knew that Agatha often napped, that she had prescribed medications to take.

Grace had an awful feeling Agatha would be lost without the two of them, and a worse suspicion that she’d never admit it.

Until it was too late.

“Agatha?” Grace said over her shoulder, hoping against hope that Noah’s grandmother would say something profound to stop it all.

“You need me,” Agatha insisted loudly with only a slight ache in her tone.

Noah just laughed and paused briefly to stab her with a look. “I got along without you for sixteen years, Agatha, and that’s when I was a boy. I’m a man now. Believe me, I know how to take care of myself.”

“You’ll miss the restaurant,” she predicted.

Noah grinned without humor. “Not as much as it’ll miss me.” He jerked the front door open and pulled Grace down the steps.

“Enough!” Grace complained in the middle of the walk, tugging her hand free.

Noah turned to her, his frustration and impatience a palpable thing.
“What?”

Grace unnecessarily dusted herself off and peeked back to see Agatha hovering in the doorway. “I’m not a sack of potatoes to be toted about, Noah Harper. For all you know, I might have wanted to stay.”

BOOK: Too Much Temptation
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