Too Much Temptation

by Lori Foster

  But Noah loved the work he did, especially overseeing Harper’s Bistro, and as Agatha was quickly discovering, the employees loved him. Somewhere along the road, the added responsibilities she’d given Noah had earned him respect and admiration from her associates in their social circle. They deferred to Noah, and valued his opinions.

  He’d also gained the loyalty of everyone at the restaurant, from the busboys to the very temperamental chefs. Agatha would use those connections to lure Noah to her way of thinking.

  She needed Grace here to help her. Grace not only kept her life organized, she was always a rock, and she had a calming effect that helped keep disasters at bay. If Grace hadn’t been out of town during the confrontation, Agatha likely wouldn’t have lost her temper and disowned Noah. Now she had to figure out how to get him back, get the wedding back on track and save face in the bargain.

  Unfortunately, Grace had gone missing after their heated discussion. For some reason, Grace had taken grave offense at the supposed slights dealt to Agatha’s hardheaded grandson.

  Hillary and Jorge, Kara’s parents, sat in stony silence, waiting for Agatha to come up with a solution to the problem of the canceled wedding. She loved them both and counted them as two of her closest friends, but they could be such nitwits sometimes. What did they expect her to do? Ground Noah in his room? Sometimes he reminded her of a wild animal turned into a house pet. Noah might often appear domesticated, but Agatha had to remember that most of it was a facade. Deep inside, Noah was still a creature of independence, determined to survive.

  He had a stubborn predilection for doing what he considered best. Because his instincts were acute, oftentimes he was correct.

  This time he couldn’t be.

  To herself, Agatha muttered, “Damn it, Grace, where are you?”

  Jorge cleared his throat. “You’re really worried about her?”

  “Of course I’m worried. She’s the most steadfast employee I’ve ever had. If she’s not here, it’s because something has happened to her.” Agatha had already decided a pretense of worry would buy her some time and give her an excuse to contact Noah again.

  Hillary, looking impatient, handed her quietly weeping daughter another tissue and turned to Agatha. “You said the two of you argued. Perhaps she’s still annoyed.”

  “She would have called and said so.”

  Jorge raised his brows. “She tells you when she’s annoyed with you?”

  If they only knew, Agatha thought with a secret smile. Grace always spoke her mind, especially when she felt righteous. Agatha said only, “Yes, but always in the most diplomatic terms.”

  As if on cue, the library doors burst open and Grace tumbled in looking like a ragged weed caught in the wind. “Agatha! I’m so sorry I’m late.”

  Agatha stared at Grace, utterly speechless. Good God, had she spent the night in the gutter? Had she been attacked?

  “Late,” Agatha finally said, giving her mind a chance to work, “is a few minutes. Grace, you’re several hours tardy.”

  “I know.” Grace shoved thick handfuls of tangled hair from her face. “And as I said, I’m sorry.”

  Agatha looked her over. She was aware of Jorge coming to his feet behind her, of Kara and Hillary staring in mute shock. Her voice sharp with concern, Agatha snapped, “What in the world has happened to you?”

  “Happened to me?” Grace blushed even as she parroted the question.

  Skirting furniture and guests, Agatha approached her. A very real niggling of worry intruded. “Don’t play dumb with me, young lady. It doesn’t suit you at all. Just look at you. You’re a wrinkled, dirty mess.”

  Grace brushed at her sweater—which had two buttons in the wrong holes, leaving a peek of her cleavage—and straightened her sagging skirt. Her legs were bare, her shoes water-stained. “My car broke down last night. I got caught in the rain.”

  “All night?” Hillary asked with real concern.

  “No, actually…” Grace fidgeted. “No.”

  Agatha scowled. “No actually no what?”

  Kara stepped up behind Agatha and placed a slim, manicured hand on her shoulder. “I think we should go, Agatha. Maybe Grace would like a little privacy with you to discuss her…dilemma.”

  Grace looked at Kara overlong, then bobbed her head. “Is the meeting over, then?”

  Agatha tipped back on her old tired heels. She had never seen Grace flustered, but right now, she was bright red and rattling nonsense. “Of course it’s not over. We weren’t even able to begin without you here.”

  “Oh?”

  “We were going to discuss the business aspects of the wedding.”

  Grace blinked. “What wedding?”

  Agatha tapped one foot. “Noah’s.”

  “But…I understood that the ceremony has been canceled.”

  Kara drew in a shuddering breath and Agatha patted the hand still on her shoulder. “There are some things that have to be resolved, Grace. But I have no idea where you have the legal files in my computer.”

  “Oh.”

  “Will you quit saying that!” Agatha snapped.

  “Grace?” Jorge stepped forward. His handsome face was stiff with concern. “Are you all right?”

  Agatha realized they now surrounded her, and Grace didn’t like it. Her chin lifted and she crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” She made to move around them. “I’ll just open those files right now.”

  “No point,” Jorge said, watching her closely. “At least not until we know if the wedding is truly canceled or not.”

  And then, from the doorway, a rough-edged voice intruded. “The wedding is definitely off.”

  Everyone whirled to face Noah. Agatha felt a mixture of supreme annoyance and grudging pride. Noah wouldn’t hide from animosity. Noah didn’t hide from anyone.

  After all, he was her grandson.

  “What are you doing here?” Agatha asked, even as Hillary put a protective arm around her daughter.

  In a flash, Grace was at Noah’s side. Or rather, she stood in front of him.

  Agatha’s brows lifted. “Grace?”

  “He brought me here. Remember, I said my car broke down?”

  Jorge looked between the two of them in confusion. “And you called him rather than Triple A?”

  “Last night?” Hillary clarified, and there was a load of speculation creeping into her tone.

  Noah shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned into the door frame. He looked at Grace, from all appearances as curious about her reply as the rest of them.

  Grace stiffened. “I went to see Noah last night.”

  The silence in the room was so thick, Agatha almost choked on it.

  Grace forged on. “My car broke down a few blocks from his place and I got soaked getting there.”

  Kara held herself protectively and walked away to a window, staring out at the sunny afternoon sky. Agatha noticed that Noah’s gaze never wavered from Grace; he was oblivious to Kara and her upset. Just as he appeared oblivious to her parents. All his attention, all his focus, was on Grace.

  It was almost…intimate, the intensity with which he watched her secretary.

  “My God.” Agatha looked at them both, then narrowed her gaze on her grandson as everything became crystal clear. Mortification and outrage struck her hard. “This is too much, Noah! Far, far too much.”

  Lazily, he looked away from Grace to meet her insinuation. But before he could say anything, Grace took an aggressive step forward.

  “Don’t accuse him of anything!”

  There was nothing diplomatic in Grace’s tone this time. Aghast, Agatha said, “You’re denying you spent the night with him?”

  Grace pinched her lips together. Both Hillary and Jorge stiffened. Kara turned to face them, her eyes rounded.

  “Look at you,” Agatha continued, determined to take charge of the awkward situation. “You haven’t even brushed your hair. And your clothes look as if they spent the night on t
he floor.”

  Noah made a sound, but amazingly enough Grace raised a hand to quiet him. He grinned—the rogue—and fell silent.

  Through her teeth, Grace said, “I did spend the night, yes.”

  Everyone spoke at once, Jorge furious, Hillary scandalized, Kara whining.

  Agatha shouted, “Enough.” She glared her discontent at Noah, and in a quieter but no less furious tone, she said, “That’s low even for you, Noah. Grace is a nice young woman, too good for you to use that way.”

  Grace sputtered, she was so furious. “Too good for him?” Somehow she managed to stand two inches taller and said in a low voice laced with significance, “I should be so lucky as to draw his notice.”

  Noah reached forward and tugged on a long lock of Grace’s hair. “You got my notice, Gracie, and you know it.”

  Agatha suffered a surge of protectiveness toward Grace. How could her grandson toy with her that way? Grace was in no way used to men and their flirting, and she surely wasn’t used to a man like Noah.

  “Are you using her to punish me, Noah?” Was Noah capable of such a thing? Agatha could never underestimate him. “Is that it?”

  Grace stiffened further. “Noah didn’t use me.”

  “We’re leaving,” Jorge announced, and Noah politely stepped out of his way. Hillary clutched her daughter close and dragged her toward the door.

  Grace threw up her arms. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  And as Kara and her parents continued to march out, she added loud enough to rattle the windows, “I used him!”

  Everyone froze, not even daring to breathe in the wake of that awful disclosure.

  Then Noah choked, and to Agatha’s astute eyes, he looked near to laughing. She considered booting him, but he was such a hard young man, she’d probably break her ankle. She wasn’t nearly as sturdy as she used to be.

  “So,” Jorge demanded in austere tones, “this is the reason you broke off with my daughter? Because of an…assignation with Grace?”

  “Nope,” Noah replied, calm to the point of indifference.

  “No.” Grace agreed, horrified by such a conclusion.

  “Then why, damn you?” Jorge asked.

  Noah briefly glanced at Kara, and with a twisted smile said to her father, “I have my reasons, and I’m sure Kara could explain them to you. But Grace had nothing to do with them.”

  Hillary, trembling in her anger, squeezed Kara closer. “I don’t believe you. It’s obvious to one and all what you’ve been doing. It’s…disgusting.”

  Agatha had to figure out what was going on before things got completely out of hand. She didn’t want Grace insulted, or her integrity called into question, but she had to admit it all looked very suspicious.

  “You two wait here,” she ordered Grace and Noah. She approached Jorge and Hillary with no idea of what to say. Damn, she hated to be put into these kinds of predicaments and Noah knew it. She avoided scandal and gossip by taking iron control of every situation. Yet she’d never really been able to control Noah. On occasion, he allowed her the ruse of control. But they both knew the truth.

  Once they were well away from the library, Jorge muttered in low, angry tones, “This is incredible, Agatha.”

  Hillary added, “He should be horsewhipped.”

  Agatha considered that suggestion. “You know, Kara, it seems to me Noah’s just sowing some last-minute wild oats.” She made sure neither Noah nor Grace—Grace!—could hear her. The idea of the two of them together was so farfetched she was still a little shocked, and a lot disbelieving. There had to be another explanation. “I understand that’s typical of young men.”

  “He’s thirty-two,” Kara pointed out, and to Agatha, Kara seemed far calmer than her parents.

  “True. But he’s led a restricted life.”

  Hillary made a rude sound at that. “Agatha, please. Before you took him in, he ran wild. There’s nothing restricted in that.”

  “Without money? Without familial support? Think about it, Hillary. He was all alone in the world. That can be very restrictive.”

  “I suppose,” Hillary reluctantly agreed.

  Deep down, Agatha respected Noah, too. It was impossible to know him for long and not respect him, she thought. “I think you should fight for him, Kara.”

  Jorge drew up short before the front door, the epitome of the insulted father. “My daughter does not have to fight for the likes of him. She has her choice of successful men.”

  “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 ta
ll 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.”