Don't Tempt Me

by Julie Ortolon

"Look, Brian, this is getting way out of hand. I'm flattered women find me attractive, really, but this playboy image the public has of me is very uncomfortable. I happen to be involved with someone, and I'm hoping to get married."

  The moment the words left his mouth, Jackie stiffened and his family turned wide eyes his way. Damn! He hadn't meant to tell them like this.

  "You're hoping to do what?" Brian half shouted.

  Adrian looked at Jackie's pale face. "Married. If she'll say yes."

  She stared back at him, conflicting emotions filling her eyes. He saw his sisters exchange a look of excitement and wished he shared their confidence.

  "I see." His agent let out a heavy sigh. "So how do you feel about long engagements? Very long, very secret engagements?"

  "What do you mean? If I get engaged, I'm not keeping it a secret."

  "You will if you're wise. Look, Adrian, here's how it works. The network makes money off advertisements. What they can charge for those ads is based on the number of viewers the show pulls in. Right now they see you as a double-hitter. Not only are you a good cook, which will bring in the viewers who actually care about that, you're a hot-looking single straight male who cooks. The network is not going to be thrilled if you get married between now and when the first show airs. In fact, they're going to be royally pissed off."

  "What am I supposed to do, not get married because my show might lose a few viewers?"

  "Just keep it quiet until we have the contract signed. Then, when the time is right, we'll talk to the publicity people about the right way to announce it. Maybe we can get some mileage out of it."

  "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. When he hung up, he turned to find everyone but Jackie watching the computer screen in an obvious ploy to give them privacy. Jackie stared back at him with wounded eyes.

  "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to do that."

  She looked away rather than answer, and his chest muscles contracted. Why was she so set on keeping his proposal a secret? Was she trying to spare him embarrassment when she turned him down?

  "You know," Vivian said to the room at large, "when it comes to people who feed off celebrities, I never quite know whether to hate their guts or admire their tenacity."

  "Hate their guts," Scott said. "In fact, I think I'll put a slime-ball paparazzo in my next book and crush him to death beneath a mountain of tabloids."

  "Oh, to be a writer." Vivian sighed in envy.

  "I have to go," Jackie said in a quiet voice. "I need to get my ship ready to sail."

  Chapter 25

  Jackie heard Adrian follow as she hurried up the stairs, and quickened her pace. "Would you wait!" He caught up with her on the veranda. "You can't just take off like that. Talk to me."

  "About what?" She turned to him, her body shaking. "God, this is so typical of my life! Now you know why I never go after anything."

  "What? Why?"

  "Because it hurts, dammit! It hurts to have everything you reach for snatched away at the last minute."

  He stared at her, dumbfounded. "Surely you don't think I'm going to let any of that make a difference?" He flung an arm toward the house.

  "Adrian ..." She pressed both hands to her forehead. "You want this show. Not just for yourself, but because it will help the inn, which means a lot to your whole family. You're going to jeopardize that for me?"

  "No. For us," he shot back. "Two months ago, you stood right here and told me to think about what I wanted, then for once in my life to put myself first. Okay, I've thought about it a lot and I know what I want. You! I want you, and a life for us here on Pearl Island. If that includes a cooking show, fine. If not, so what?"

  The air left her lungs as the fight drained out of her. "You mean that?"

  "I do." His shoulders sagged in relief when he saw his words were getting through.

  "Oh, Adrian!" She flung herself against his chest and wrapped her arms about his neck. "Please be sure, because I don't ever want you to resent me."

  "I won't." He rubbed her back. "In fact, just to end all this nonsense about turning a cooking show into some warped version of The Bachelor, I think we should go ahead and announce our engagement."

  "Ho, no!" She dropped her heels back to the ground. "I told you, I need time to think."

  "What's the matter?" He grinned. "Chicken?"

  "No, it's just ---"

  "You're scared. I know." He took both her hands in his, then kissed them one at a time. "We're talking about the rest of our lives. It's very scary business. But every time I think of the big picture and start freaking out, I bring it back down to basics." He squeezed her fingers. "Do I love this woman? Yes. Do I want to spend my days with her, not just my nights? Yes. Can I see myself growing old with her? Yes."

  She stared at him, remembering last evening and seeing it too, them being together for years to come.

  "So, how about you?" he asked, looking uncertain. "Do you love me?"

  "Yes," she said in a small voice.

  "Do you want to spend your days with me?"

  "Yes."

  "Can you see yourself growing old with me?"

  Her eyes prickled. "Yes."

  He took a deep breath. "Will you marry me?"

  "Yes."

  "Thank God." He hugged her to him as relief flooded his senses. "See, that wasn't so hard."

  "Yes it was." She gave his arm a weak punch.

  "But you didn't throw up this time." He pulled back to smile at her, and thought she'd never looked more beautiful than she looked at that moment with watery eyes and a red nose. "Pretty soon, we'll be able to say 'I love you' every day and you won't even get queasy. You just need practice."

  She laughed and hugged him again. "I love you."

  "See? Easier, right?" He held her tight, absorbing the feel of her body against his.

  "I don't want to make a public announcement, though."

  "Why not?" He pulled back to frown at her.

  "Because ..." She struggled. "For one thing, you are way too popular with the press right now, and I don't want my name and face splashed all over the place. Thank God the pictures on that Web site were so grainy."

  "Jackie." He released a heavy sigh. "I think you worry about that entirely too much."

  "Please?"

  He narrowed his eyes, contemplating his options. "How about this? If anyone asks, I'll tell them I'm engaged, but if they ask who I'm marrying, I'll say it's none of their business."

  "I don't know ..."

  "People are going to find out sooner or later. You can't live your whole life hiding from the past."

  "I know. But just downplay the engagement, okay?"

  "I guess that means I can't climb up on a tall building and shout, 'Jackie Taylor agreed to marry me'!"

  "Good God, no!" She laughed.

  "Darn." He grinned. "But you are going to marry me."

  "I guess I am." She smiled at him with love and happiness shining in her eyes. "Right now, though, I really do need to go."

  "Okay." He loosened his arms. "When you get back to Corpus, we can run up my phone bill tossing around dates for the wedding and making plans to move you up here. How's that?"

  "All right." She kissed him.

  "And remember." He held her face in both hands. "If you start freaking out over everything, bring it down to basics. Okay?"

  "Okay." She nodded and kissed him one last time. "I'll talk to you in a couple of days."

  He watched her go, hating the thought of not seeing her for four more weeks. How had Marguerite stood it all those years watching Jack sail away? At least he knew when Jackie would be back, and that soon he wouldn't have to watch her go at all. The thought of her moving to Pearl Island as his wife filled him to near bursting.

  He headed inside and jogged down the stairs to the apartment, jumping past the last step to land on both feet.

  Everyone turned, waiting.

  "Well?" Rory asked.

  "We're getting married!"

  Rory shri
eked and bounded over to throw herself against him. Allison came next more sedate but equally happy. Chance gave him a high five but Scott snorted in disgust. "This is so not fair."

  "Why do you say that?" Adrian asked.

  "After what you put me through the day I proposed to Allison, you should have to suffer at least a little."

  "Well, if it helps, I'm not married yet." Even as he said it, Adrian crossed to the phone to call his agent back. He wanted the network at least to know the single-chef angle was not an option.

  ~ ~ ~

  Two weeks later, Jackie wanted to shoot herself for agreeing to many Adrian. Or shoot every member of the press; not just those who wrote for the tabloids, but members of the legitimate media. The feeding frenzy had started when someone at the network leaked the news of Adrian's engagement.

  Adrian had refused to take calls from reporters who wanted the name of the bride-to-be, but that had only stirred up more interest. So NationalEnquirer.com posted a reward for any information about the mystery woman on the beach. Twenty-four hours later, they had Jackie's name and her entire past.

  The headline for the story they ran read: "Chef Adrian Getting Conned?"

  The story had included enough details to set off an explosion of accusations in Galveston when members of the Historical Society realized Carl Ryder had been letting Jackie dive with his team. Those accusations triggered local news stations to start asking questions, which led to a special report on Houston's evening news.

  Pacing the officers' lounge on her ship, Jackie held the phone to one ear as she watched the report via satellite dish.

  "Can you believe this?" Adrian demanded on the other end, watching the same station. He'd warned her earlier in the day that reporters had come around with TV cameras wanting to do interviews. He'd refused, but they'd cornered Carl on the beach and asked him about the excavation.

  "I knew something like this would happen," she said as the reporter asked Carl if it was true that a suspected con artist and artifact forger had been allowed to participate in the search for Lafitte's treasure.

  Standing on the beach with the wind buffeting him, Carl gave the reporter an impatient look. "To my knowledge, Jackie Taylor has no record of ever being charged with any crime."

  "But isn't it commonly accepted that she and her father were suspected of conning people into going after artifacts that didn't even exist by creating phony documents?" the reporter persisted.

  "Ms. Taylor was a minor living with her father during the time of that alleged activity."

  "Is it true she's the one who provided the document that prompted the state to spend taxpayer money on this search?"

  "Yes." A muscle flexed in Carl's jaw. "And that document was tested for authenticity."

  "Is it possible for a forgery to pass those tests?"

  "It's extremely unlikely."

  "But it is possible."

  "I'm completely satisfied that the document was real."

  "And yet you haven't found the artifact you're looking for after an extensive, and very costly, search."

  "Look," Carl said. "I know exactly what you're getting at, so let me state right here that a large part of the search was funded by private donations, and Jackie Taylor has not received one dime of that money."

  "And yet," the reporter countered, "according to sources, she runs a charter business that has enjoyed a substantial increase in business since the search began, so she has profited indirectly."

  "I'm not privy to Ms. Taylor's business records, so I can't answer that. I will tell you that the work she's done for the state on this project has been voluntary, so she hasn't made any profit off that."

  "Thank you, Mr. Ryder." The reporter turned toward the camera. "Earlier today, KTEX spoke with a former friend of Ms. Taylor's late father."

  Jackie's stomach nearly heaved when Danny's cheesy grin appeared on the screen.

  "Oh, my God," she whispered, sinking to the sofa.

  After a few initial questions, Danny looked straight into the camera and said, "Jackie Taylor's father was nothing but a thief and a liar, and he taught that girl every trick he knew. Why, if there ever was a powder horn in that cove, it wouldn't surprise me if she stoled it right from under Carl Ryder's nose to sell on the black market."

  The reporter turned to the camera. "Neither Ms. Taylor nor her business partners, the owners of the Pearl Island Inn, were available for comment."

  "That bastard!" Adrian shouted. "Who the hell was he, anyway?"

  "A diver Carl fired." Heartsick, she grabbed the remote and turned the set off.

  "I notice they don't mention that!"

  "Adrian." She rubbed her head. "This can't be that big a shock to you. We knew all along the truth might come out."

  "This isn't the truth. It's a bunch of ridiculous accusations."

  "Some of it's true."

  "Not the part about your conning the state of Texas and stealing the powder horn."

  "We have nothing on our side to prove that."

  "Unless Carl finds the powder horn," he said. "That will shut the media up."

  A hard lump of dread formed just below her heart. "What if they don't find it?"

  He didn't answer right away. "I don't know."

  "I do." She dropped her head in her hands. "If Carl doesn't find the powder horn, it'll only get worse. Before long, people will start accusing you, too. I know what it's like to be shunned, even by people you thought were your friends."

  "Don't you dare say we should break up to spare me from this scandal."

  "I'm afraid it may take more than that at this point." Regret enveloped her as she thought of her dreams for a brighter future. "We'll need to sever things completely. I'll cancel the cruises as discreetly as possible."

  "How, when they're selling better than ever?"

  "I don't know, but I think it's best for y'all."

  There was silence on the other end.

  "Adrian? Are you still there?"

  "You're serious, aren't you?"

  "I don't see any choice. I'm not going to take you and your family down with me. I love all of you too much."

  "And if you cancel the cruises, what are you going to do for a living, since you weren't exactly making it before that?"

  "I don't know." She sighed. "Move back to the Caribbean. Rename my ship. Try again."

  "Just like that. You'd run away."

  "Do I have a choice?'

  "Hell yes, you have a choice. Quit being a whipped dog and fight back!"

  "How?" she demanded. "Call up the press and say 'I'm innocent. I'm innocent'? I'm sure that would go over real well."

  His voice turned steely. "I'm not going to let you dump me over this."

  "Adrian," she sighed. "Please don't make this harder than it is already. Please. We need to do what's best for everyone."

  He fell silent again.

  "Adrian?"

  "Look, I think we need to end this conversation right now, because if we don't, I'm going to say things I know I'll regret"

  "Like what?"

  "Like You're a goddamned coward without enough backbone to stand up for yourself!"

  "Excuse me!" she sputtered, ready to argue, until she realized the line was dead. She stared at the phone in shock. "He hung up on me!"

  Chapter 26

  Shaking with fury, Adrian paced his living room. He couldn't believe Jackie would break up with him over this. And yet he could. She had to be the most stubborn, self-reliant ... self-sacrificing person he'd ever met! And she'd lectured him about the need to put his own needs first? Well, he wasn't going to give in without a fight

  Pulling on his running shoes, he jogged down the trail toward Carl's bungalow. At least she didn't know the network people were pushing him to break off the engagement due to all the crap in the news.

  Carl's bungalow came into view, and he trotted up the steps, intending to demand they step up efforts to find the powder horn. Angry voices came from inside. He pounded on the screen d
oor anyway, making it rattle. Carl opened the main door, looking flustered.

  "Did you see the news?" Adrian asked through the screen.

  "I did." Carl sighed. "I'm sorry."

  "What are you sorry for? You're not the one accusing Jackie of all this horseshit."

  "I just wish I could have done more to defend her. Getting to know her these last months, I realize how much she's been through, and how little she deserves the hand life dealt her."

  "That's why you have to find the powder horn. No matter what it takes."

  "That's what I've been telling him," a feminine voice said from the cool, shadowy interior.

  "Aunt Viv?" Adrian looked past Carl and found his aunt standing in the middle of the front room. "What are you doing here?"

  "Telling this idiot that he can forget about ever seeing me again if he goes through with his plans."

  Sighing in defeat, Carl opened the screen door.

  "Plans?" Adrian stepped inside, looking from his aunt to Carl and back again. "What plans?"

  "He's calling off the search." Vivian crossed her arms.

  "What?" Adrian turned to Carl. "You can't do that."

  "I told all of you weeks ago this was coming. The powder horn wasn't in the defined search area, which was the aft portion of the ship and the path she traveled while sinking. To continue searching would mean establishing another search area, but in which direction do we go? And what if the horn isn't there? Do we define another section, and another? Continuing the search at this point is completely impractical."

  "But the horn is out there," Adrian insisted. "I know it. I can feel it."

  "But out there where?" Carl gestured in frustration. "We can't search the whole cove. If the item were metal, we might have a shot at stumbling over it with metal detectors. But Scott's research indicates it was made completely of horn and leather. The only way to find it is through systematic dredging. I'm sorry. Truly. But the funds we have left for this project need to go toward preserving the items we've already brought up and creating the museum exhibit."

  "What if we continue searching on our own?" Adrian asked.

  "If you want to waste your time and money, be my guest. Just remember that if you find it, it belongs to the state."