Tempting Faith

by Susan Mallery

  The invitation lay where the reporter had tossed it, right in the white plastic trash container. Thomas pulled it out and pocketed it. Five minutes later he pulled onto Prospect Avenue and into the rush-hour traffic. He’d been worried about having to sneak in and steal the cubs in the dead of night. Luck was on his side. With a big party at the way station, he could walk in with the other guests and take the cubs without anyone being the wiser.

  *

  After feeding the cubs and settling them down for their afternoon nap, Cort wandered toward Faith’s office. She’d pleaded too much work as a reason for avoiding him at lunch, but he knew it was something more than that. He flexed his arm and felt the bandage move with his skin. Something had happened when she’d tended his cut. In a flash of temper, he’d forced her to acknowledge he wasn’t just one of her cats. He paused at the entrance to her office and shook his head. It came from thinking with the wrong part of his anatomy, and from living in close quarters with a woman who turned him on.

  She sat at her desk, with her head bent. She wrote furiously on the papers in front of her. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the window. The overhead fluorescent glared harshly on her. Often she wore her hair in a braid, but today a headband held it away from her face. A single, shiny strand slipped over her shoulder and onto the page. She brushed it away impatiently.

  The scent of Sparky’s mint, the smell of furniture oil and the whispered fragrance of French perfume mingled together. In the compound, cats paced restlessly and called to one another, but here there was only quiet. Faith was a woman, he was a man, and they were alone. It was tempting to think about touching her and tasting her. Tempting to wonder what she would feel like next to him, under him.

  But would she be tempted? And why did he care? He was here to get a job done. She would be a complication he didn’t need, a temptation he had no time for. He was reacting to circumstances, not the woman, and he sure better not forget that.

  This arrangement of theirs got to him. Their domesticity was as foreign to him as the jungles of South America would be to her. It was different from his normal life. He allowed himself a small smile. Who was he kidding? He had no normal life.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  She jumped in the chair. Her pencil went flying, and she looked up at him. “How do you do that?” she asked. She leaned forward and stared down. “You’re wearing boots. I can’t believe you snuck up on me.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking.” He moved into the room and took the chair in front of her desk.

  She shuffled her papers together and tried not to look at him. He knew she was trying hard, because she kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye and then looking disgusted with herself. He liked that he got to her.

  “Are the cubs fed?” she asked.

  “Both Big and Little tiger are sleeping soundly.”

  “Big and Little? Is that what you’re calling them?”

  “Yeah. What do you think?”

  She grinned. “It’s kind of basic, but it works. Having any trouble with the forms?”

  “Nope.” He motioned to the papers scattered on her desk. “What about you?”

  She bent down and retrieved her pencil from the floor. “Don’t even ask. It’s a nightmare. Every government agency has its own rules. You have to document the documentation.” She leaned back in her wooden chair and stretched her arms above her head. Her back arched and her shirt drew taut across her body.

  The unobstructed view of her generous curves reminded him of his original premise that rooming with Faith Newlin wasn’t going to be tough duty. The unconscious grace in her movements made him wonder what else she did gracefully and well. To distract himself, he looked around the office. Like the rest of the building, it needed a coat of paint.

  “You don’t spend a lot of money on decorating, do you?” he asked.

  “The cats are my first priority.”

  “I guess.” Pictures of the animals hung on all the walls. He glanced at a pair of photographs in dark wood frames. “Are those the snow leopards?”

  She swiveled around until she could see them. “Yes. They’re a breeding pair.”

  He got up and stepped over to the wall. “Looks like the pictures were taken from a long way off.”

  “A plane.” Faith rose and stood next to him. Her arm brushed his. He pretended not to notice. “These two were illegally brought into the country. I don’t know if it was for a private collection or what, but they escaped and were captured by animal-control people.” She picked up the smaller of the two frames. “They brought the cats here and I looked after them.” She glanced up and smiled. “They were so beautiful and wild.”

  He stared down at her blue eyes, at her faint dusting of freckles and the generous curve of her mouth. Not beautiful, he thought, but intelligent and warm and attractive enough that conventional beauty didn’t matter. It occurred to him that he could get to like her. He didn’t have many friends in his life; it was too dangerous. The weight of relationships slowed him down. But in another time and place, he wouldn’t have minded getting to know her.

  “How long were they here?” he asked.

  “About four months. We healed them, fattened them back up. The hardest part was making sure not to domesticate them.” She placed the photo back on the wall. “They were flown back to Asia and released in the wild. These pictures were taken about a year ago. They’re both still alive.”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder. Her blue eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t step away. If anything, she seemed to sway toward him. He told himself he was fourteen different kinds of fool, but he didn’t care. “You must be very proud of yourself.”

  “I am. I’m glad they survived.”

  Her bones felt delicate. He knew she was strong and resilient, yet there was a fragility about her that intrigued him. He also knew she’d probably drop-kick him if he ever said that thought aloud. He gave her a brief squeeze and stepped back.

  “Is that why you want to start a snow-leopard breeding program?” he asked.

  She nodded slowly, as if trying to remember what they were talking about. “There are so few of them left. Without adding to the wild population, they’re going to disappear altogether. Just three or four breeding pairs would greatly increase the gene pool. When I found out these two made it, I bought some land to start my own breeding center. Now I just have to worry about all the paperwork, getting the foundation up and running, finding donors.”

  He perched on the corner of her desk and took the weight off his healing leg. “What will happen here if you leave to start your snow-leopard program?”

  “Several zoos have approached me about buying the place. They would use it for an isolation facility, either for quarantined animals, or for breeding the more endangered species.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

  “Maybe.” She leaned over and picked up the forms. “I’m just not sure I can pull this off. I would have to run the new foundation and I don’t have a lot of business experience. I’m not sure I could get funding. I have this picture of slowly starving to death our first winter.”

  “At least the snow leopards would keep you warm.”

  “Yeah, they are furry little creatures, aren’t they? Oh well, I’ll deal with that problem later. Right now I have a benefit to plan.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “I’m not happy about this.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Fortunately, your being happy isn’t a priority.”

  “Gee, thanks.” With him sitting on the desk, they were almost at eye level. She was one tough lady. “Did you put a call in to Jeff?”

  “Earlier today. I’m expecting him to return it shortly.” She glanced at her watch. “In another hour or so.”

  “We’re going to need extra security for the party,” he said. “I want to talk to him about that. I’ve already sent the guest list through the computer. Everyone is clean. You do realize that reporter you s
cared off is invited.”

  “I know,” she said. “I don’t think he’ll show up. Do you?” “Highly unlikely. Are there any changes?”

  “A couple. I’m expecting more.” She bent over and pulled open a desk drawer. She drew out a folder and handed it to him. “Some of the invitations say ‘and guest,’ so we don’t have all the names. They’re supposed to call and let us know how many are coming, but they don’t always. Also, here are the names of the caterer’s employees, and the guys who’ll be parking cars. But these haven’t been finalized, either.”

  He opened the folder and scanned the typed sheets. “Are you trying to make my job harder, or is this a natural trait?”

  “I guess you’re just lucky.” She leaned over and looked at the bandage partially visible under the T-shirt he’d changed into. “How do you feel?”

  “Sore. I haven’t checked in the mirror, but I think I have paw-shaped bruises on my back.”

  She chuckled. “I’ll bet. I’m heading up to the Big House. The bathrooms there have tubs. I’m going to take a bath. You’re welcome to join me.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she blushed scarlet and stared at the ground. “That’s not exactly what I meant,” she stammered.

  “Too bad.” Her invitation conjured up a vivid picture of a delightfully naked Faith Newlin soaking in a tub of water.

  She risked a quick glance, then busied herself with straightening the papers on her desk blotter. “The guest room has a Jacuzzi tub. It might help with any stiffness.”

  “Thanks.”

  “If you want to go get a change of clothing, I’ll meet you by the garage in a couple of minutes.” She fled the room without waiting for his agreement.

  Cort rose and trailed after her. He could use a good soak to ease the tightness from his muscles. More than that, he wanted to talk to his boss. The missing pieces from his memory were gradually being filled in. Jeff might be persuaded to give him a couple more. He had to learn the truth. If he didn’t, he couldn’t go back. And he had to go back. Fighting in the trenches was all he knew.

  Chapter 6

  Faith shifted her tote bag over one shoulder and bent down to pull the roast out of the refrigerator. After collecting a few potatoes and some vegetables, she put them all in a plastic bag and dropped them in the tote.

  No doubt Cort was waiting for her by the Jeep. She should go face him and get it over with. But just thinking about what she’d said was enough to send heat flaring on her cheeks.

  You’re welcome to join me. Oh! She wanted to scream. How could she have blurted that out? She hadn’t been thinking anything remotely sexual. She sighed and made her way down the hall. She’d never been a good liar, especially to herself. She had been thinking about how handsome Cort was, and how he seemed to fill her office, but she certainly hadn’t been thinking about having a bath with him. Still, it was an intriguing thought. She wasn’t a virgin; she knew what went on between a woman and a man.

  As she entered the foyer, she instinctively glanced out at the compound. Ken and Sparky were playing tug-of-war with Sparky’s favorite blanket. Sparky was winning. She pushed open the door.

  “Ken?” she called.

  He looked up. Sparky took advantage of the distraction, jerking his powerful head once and pulling the blanket free. Ken promptly sat down on his butt.

  “That’s cheating,” he yelled at the victorious cat. He stood up and brushed off his pants. “Yes?”

  “Cort and I are going up to the Big House. Please feed the cubs before you leave and make sure everything is locked up.”

  “No problem.” He tossed her a grin, then started after the cat. “Come back here. I demand a rematch.” Sparky sprinted up one of the telephone poles and looked down at him.

  Faith closed the door and stepped out the front. Cort was leaning against the Jeep. His black T-shirt emphasized his blond good looks and her heart started making a funny thumping against her ribs.

  “Thought you’d changed your mind,” he said, stepping forward to take her bag.

  “Just giving Ken instructions. He’ll take care of the cubs’ next feeding.”

  Cort lifted the tote from her shoulder and looked surprised when he felt the weight of the bag. “What do you have in here?”

  “Dinner.” She climbed into the vehicle. “I have to count glasses and plates, see what we have before I call the caterer. I thought I’d cook a roast while I was there. The oven at the Big House is better, and I can keep an eye on it while I work.”

  He settled in beside her and peered in the bag. “How do I know you’re not feeding me tiger or leopard food?”

  “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “Not something I do easily.”

  She believed him. Jeff never talked much about his work, but the few times he’d opened up to her, she’d been appalled by the horrors he’d seen. Cort would have shared those experiences. She didn’t understand these warriors who risked their lives and fought ever-changing enemies.

  “Lucky for you the meat is still in the store wrapper. You can read the label yourself.”

  “I’ll risk it,” he said.

  When they reached the Big House, Faith parked in front. She pulled the keys from her jeans pocket and unlocked the front door.

  “It’s always a little musty,” she said. “The cleaners come two days before the party and air the whole thing out. The caterers arrive the next day and then the guests.”

  He stepped into the house and gave a low whistle. “This is some place.”

  She glanced around at the familiar high ceilings and papered walls. “Let me get the roast going, and I’ll show you around.”

  In the kitchen, she turned on the oven and prepared the meat. After she slid the pan in the oven, she turned to Cort. “We can cook for about a hundred with this kitchen.”

  He stared at the two large stoves, the extrawide triple sink and the subzero refrigerator. A butcher-block island stood in the center.

  “All the party dishes are stored in there,” she said, pointing to the pantry on the right. “Through here is the dining room.” She led the way.

  The rooms were large. Hardwood floors gleamed despite a layer of dust. The wallpaper was subdued and elegant, with a cream-and-rose print. Small couches had been pushed up against the walls and covered with sheets. Chairs stood in tall stacks in all the corners. Round tables had been pushed together in front of the big stone fireplace. Velvet drapes covered the tall windows, rich brocade trimmed the valances.

  “We use the downstairs for our fund-raisers. We have conversational areas in these two parlors, then set up a buffet here in the dining room. There’s a study over there.” She pointed to closed double doors. “That’s where we hold the petting zoo.”

  Cort glanced at her and raised his eyebrows. “Something tells me you don’t bring in lambs and baby goats.”

  She shook her head. “The friendliest of the cats. Samson, that bobcat in the last habitat. He loves the attention. His being declawed is a real plus. There are a couple of panthers that like people, and of course, Sparky.”

  “Sparky ever take one of your guests down?” he asked.

  “No. I told you, it means he likes you.”

  He rubbed the cut on his arms. “If anyone gets out of hand, we’ll just tell him to go long and let Sparky tackle him.”

  Faith grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She shifted the tote bag to her other shoulder and started up the stairs. “The house was built in the early part of the century. Edwina’s grandfather made his fortune in lumber and construction.”

  “It’s a beautiful place. I’m surprised you don’t want to live here.”

  “It’s expensive to keep the house heated. With the weather mild, it’s fine, but in the winter, this place is drafty and cold.” At the top of the stairs, she paused. “Edwina’s suite of rooms is over there.” She pointed at the closed door. “It’s empty now. After she was gone it seemed easier to move to the way station and live in the apartmen
t. We save a lot of money on utilities, and I’m closer to the cats.”

  He moved past her to the glass case lining part of the long dark hallway. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at the many ribbons and trophies.

  She switched on the overhead light and stepped next to him. “My secret life.”

  He opened the cabinet and pulled out one of the statues. “You’re a sharpshooter?”

  “One of my many talents.” She smiled.

  His brown eyes flickered over her face. “Jeff didn’t tell me.”

  “I’m not sure he knows.”

  He put the trophy back. “You ever shoot at anything other than targets?”

  “If I have to.”

  He didn’t return her smile. “If someone shows up to take the cubs, are you prepared to defend them?”

  She bit her lower lip. He was asking if she could kill a man. She thought about the white tiger cubs, sleeping peacefully in their cage. And the snow leopards that had been illegally smuggled into the country, then mistreated.

  She nodded slowly. “I would do my best.”

  He held her gaze. “Can’t ask for more than that.”

  They were standing close together. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t noticed before, but suddenly she was aware of his arm only inches from her breasts and the way his scent drifted to her. The empty house was a welcome sanctuary from her pressures at the compound. She knew she would never enter here again without remembering how Cort looked standing next to her.

  She stepped back to break the spell. “The guest room is through here,” she said, walking around him and pushing open a door. A king-size bed stood against one wall. A rich mahogany dresser and armoire matched the headboard. She pulled a towel out of her tote bag and tossed it to him. “The tub is in the bathroom, over there.” She pointed to a half-open door. “I think it’s big enough to swim in.”

  He looked around. “There’s no phone.”

  “I know. I have one in my room, and there’s another downstairs. They’re extensions of the main number at the way station, so we won’t miss Jeff’s call.”

  He dropped the towel on the bed and looked around. “It’s a great old place.”