by Mallory Kane
"Tuppence for your thoughts," Seth said.
She stretched luxuriously, like a cat rubbing against its beloved human. "I was thinking how perfect this is."
Seth pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "It is."
The rain outside intensified, insulating them with a blanket of sound. Adrienne snuggled into his side and closed her eyes. But she couldn't relax completely. A sliver of guilt slipped as neatly and painfully as a splinter into her mind.
She'd been indulging herself, pretending her relationship with Seth was normal and innocent. She'd been pretending she was normal.
She should be working on her plan for getting out from under the thumb of the mob. Thanks to her dead husband and friends like Jolie, she already had over a hundred and fifty thousand in cash stashed in the house. After Marc had died and she was collecting his clothes to give to charity, she'd found cash hidden in various places. A lot of cash. Marc had been hiding money from the mob. That meant that Jerome probably had people monitoring all their accounts and investments. But if Marc could keep the mob from knowing he had a private stash, then so could she.
She systematically skimmed money from the household account and she had an arrangement with a small boutique where she bought clothes on her credit card, then returned them for cash. Soon she would have enough to move her mother to a facility in another state, take back her maiden name and get a job in the hotel business. She lay still, listening to Seth's even breathing and the soft rhythm of rain on the roof. Somehow, lying cradled in his arms, anything seemed possible, even freedom.
Chapter Five
"Princess." Seth's voice whispered in Adrienne's ear.
She didn't want to wake up. "Hmm?"
"You hungry?"
She shook her head against his warm skin. "Not really. Didn't you eat at Jerome's?"
He caressed her arm that lay across his chest. "Nope. Just a few boiled shrimp. You didn't eat either."
He threw back the covers. "Come on. I could use some breakfast."
Adrienne groaned. "It's midnight."
Seth chuckled, his chest rumbling against her ear. "Actually, it's morning."
She squinted at the clock. "No, it's not. It's only six a.m. Nothing's open."
"It's six-thirty. Anyway, I thought everything stayed open all night in New Orleans."
She yawned. "That doesn't mean you're required to be there before dawn."
"Come on. It'll be fun."
There was that magic word. Fun.
She groaned as she climbed out of bed, pulled her hair back with a barrette and slipped on a linen sundress and backless sandals.
Seth drove down St. Charles to the heart of the Arts District. He turned onto Julia Street and parked in front of Cajun Perk. A couple of buildings farther down was Adrienne's favorite spa, Mignon's Spa Salon.
"Oh, this reminds me," Adrienne said, seeing the blue neon sign that spelled out Mignon's. "I need to pick up some lotion at Mignon's. I wonder if she's in this early?"
"No," Seth barked, his fingers tightening reflexively on the steering wheel. Seth knew his sister Mignon was there. She arrived at her salon at six o'clock every morning to greet the before-work crowd and to make sure the salon was ready for the day. He swore silently. He should have guessed that Adrienne would be one of Mignon's customers.
Adrienne glanced at him in surprise. "She might be. It'll only take a minute to check."
Seth tried to look unconcerned. He couldn't risk the possibility that his sister or one of her employees might blow his cover. "It's too early. Let's eat. I'm starving."
As Seth got out of the car he glanced at the delivery truck parked across the street. It was one of Confiden-tial's surveillance vehicles, with its cameras trained on the entrance to the original Cajun Perk. He opened the car door for Adrienne.
When she stepped out of the car, she gave him a beaming smile that hit him solidly right under his diaphragm. "I'm glad you brought me here. It's actually one of my investments. This is the original Cajun Perk, the first store to open in the New Orleans metropolitan area. It's funny. I've never been inside one, even though I own them."
"You're kidding."
She shrugged her slender shoulders and tucked her hand into the crook of Seth's arm. "I'm no businesswoman. I understand they're doing well." Her gaze drifted toward the other end of the street, where newly painted signs on old buildings announced galleries, antique stores and stained glass factories. "They're doing wonders with the renovation here. It's so great for the city to have an Arts District. And I love the retro look on this block, with the neon and curved corners." She looked up at him. "Didn't you say you were staying around here?"
"Yep." Seth was relieved and a bit confused. She'd admitted she owned the coffeehouses that were suspected of being the distribution points for the Cajun mob's drug trade. Yet she claimed she'd never been inside one. She was either the world's best actress, or she knew nothing about the drugs. Seth knew she was not a good liar.
He held the door for her and thought wryly of how good a liar he'd become in the past few days. "I'm leasing a sublet, on Camp."
She smiled at him. "Am I going to get to see it?"
He didn't answer. He sat her in one of the booths and fetched a latte and a plate of hot, fresh beignets for each of them.
Sitting next to her, he bit into one. "Don't you think these are as good as the ones in the French Market?" he asked.
Adrienne bit delicately into one of the fragrant doughnuts, sending tiny puffs of powdered sugar everywhere She giggled and shook sugar off her fingers. "I've never eaten beignets in the French Market."
"Never? But everybody—" He stopped. He was straying into areas he shouldn't know anything about if he were what he claimed to be, a first-time visitor to the city.
During the short time he'd known Adrienne, he'd discovered how sheltered her life had been, but to find that she hadn't done so many normal things that people who grew up in New Orleans did was truly sad. She was beginning to seem like the bird in the golden cage. Given everything that money could buy—everything but freedom.
Someday he'd make a list of things he wanted to show her, and they would check off each item as they experienced them together. The idea of being with her as she discovered all the wonderful things she'd missed caused a lump to grow in Seth's throat.
"These are delicious! No wonder my investment is doing so well." She took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes, savoring it. "The coffee is excellent, too." She delicately licked at the powdered sugar on her lips.
Seth couldn't take his eyes off her pink tongue. His desire stirred and strained against his pants until he winced. "Surely you've had beignets before?"
Adrienne's eyes sparkled like sapphires and there was a white smudge of sugar on her nose. "The Cald-well's chef could prepare a twelve-course meal that rivaled the Cordon Bleu, but his beignets could be used for hockey pucks."
Seth laughed out loud. She was so genuine, so open, when she was happy. If he had three wishes, he'd give two of them to her, so she could have all her dreams come true. He'd keep wish number three, though, and use it to wipe out her history with the Cajun mob.
"I think I prefer café au lait at the Café Du Monde," he said, watching her tongue dart out to catch a fleck of powdered sugar.
Adrienne opened her eyes and set her cup down. "You certainly seem to have taken to New Orleans quickly and easily."
Seth came back to reality with a jolt. He scrambled for an explanation, reminding himself to use the fake continental accent.
"Everyone's heard of Café Du Monde. It was one of the first places I visited." Yeah, when he got back on his feet after knee surgery months before.
An odd look crossed Adrienne's face. "You know, listening to you talk, sometimes it almost sounds like—" She paused.
"Princess—" he said, but she interrupted him.
"You've been here before, haven't you?" she asked flatly.
He couldn't speak.
"I
n New Orleans. That's why you knew exactly where that crawfish place was, and why you knew how to peel them. And it explains how you get around the city so easily."
"It's been a long time. But I have a good sense of direction."
A shadow of hurt passed over Adrienne's face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He ran a finger along the back of her hand, wishing with all his heart that he could explain, but Burke would have his hide if he gave away Confidential secrets to Adrienne, as closely connected as she was to the mob. Even if she was innocent, knowledge of Confidential's operation could endanger her life. "Hey, I wanted to enjoy New Orleans with you, not rehash old memories. It's been ten years since I've been here."
She nodded slowly, her eyes narrowed. She didn't completely believe him. He needed to get past this as smoothly as he could.
He sipped his latte. "Still, this is delicious. You're to be congratulated for your insight. Making such a solid investment without sampling the merchandise. Was it a whim, or did you follow the recommendation of an investment counselor?"
Adrienne set her cup down and looked at the man across the table, the only man who'd ever managed to get even a glimpse inside her heart. His question made her oddly uncomfortable. Was it just her upbringing, which had taught her never to discuss finances in social situations?
She knew very little about Seth, despite their physical intimacy. He'd shown up and swept her away with charm and an intense sincerity that appealed to her need to believe in someone. But she couldn't afford to trust him.
"Does it matter?"
"Sorry, didn't mean to get too personal." He reached over and touched her nose, then held up his finger to reveal the smudge of powdered sugar. Not taking his eyes off her he put his finger to his mouth. Adrienne's breasts tightened. He could turn her on with a look, a gesture, a smile.
"But I find myself wanting to know everything about you. You have to admit we haven't spent much time talking." He flashed her a quick, suggestive grin.
She wondered what he'd say if she told him she'd never talked to anyone, certainly not her husband, as much as she'd talked to Seth these past few days. His genuine interest in her had coaxed her into opening up to him in a way she never had before.
"What if we played a game?" His hazel eyes sparked with amusement, but behind them Adrienne saw him assessing her reaction to his suggestion.
"A game? What kind of game?" Adrienne's imagination fed her a picture of the type of games a man like him might invent in private. Her breath caught in her throat and desire swirled through her.
Seth grinned and bit into another beignet. "You answer a question for me, then I'll answer one for you. That way we can get to know each other."
Adrienne shook her head, but he kept talking.
"We both have to tell the truth, and they can only be yes or no questions."
His suggestion sent a brief soupc.on of panic through her. "I'm not sure I want to do this."
"Hey, princess." He put his hand over hers and caressed her wrist with his thumb. "We're supposed to be having fun. I didn't mean to upset you. Are you afraid to tell me the truth? Is that it?"
"Yes—and no." She laughed nervously, and pulled her hand away from his distracting caress.
He smiled. "We'll start with easy questions, okay? Did you buy Cajun Perk on your own?"
She was mildly surprised. She'd expected something more personal. "No. Why? Are you thinking of investing?"
"No. Does someone handle your investments for you?"
"Wait! That wasn't my question. You're going too fast," she laughed.
"No cheating. Answer the question."
She took a deep breath. "Yes. Are you saying this is the game? Because if it is, so far it's pretty boring."
Seth grinned. "Yes, this is the game. Okay, Adrienne. Here's a question. Have you been with anyone else since your husband died?"
Adrienne's face burned. She opened her mouth, then closed it. She glanced around. People didn't talk about such things in public. To her dismay, his grin grew wider.
"You should have stuck with my questions about your investments. You want a do over?"
"Yes, I have someone who handles my investments." She smiled at him in triumph.
He raised his brows, his eyes full of mischief. "I see. You're too chicken to answer personal questions."
"I am not chicken. But what you asked goes beyond personal."
"So do we."
Adrienne stared at him for a moment, then looked down at her cup. Beyond personal. If only she could believe that his feelings for her were beyond personal.
He touched her chin and she reluctantly met his gaze.
"I made you blush," he said softly, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek. "Your turn for a question."
Adrienne realized she loved this. The silly games, the intimate banter. She wanted to know about Seth, about his background, about why he'd lied to her about New Orleans.
Maybe she could play this game to her advantage. Drawing in courage with a deep breath, she toyed with her cup, then glanced up at him through her lashes. "Have you been with anyone else since you've been here?"
His eyes widened and his cheeks turned faintly pink. His gaze burned into hers, sending heat coursing through her body. She'd gotten to him. She smiled as he cleared his throat and recovered his composure.
He grinned. "No. Are you having fun?"
"Right now?" She pressed her palms to her flaming cheeks. "Yes. I am."
He laughed. "You should be, sneaking up on me with that question. Why wouldn't you answer mine?"
"No fair. It's my turn. Are you going to break my heart?" She gasped and covered her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that.
"God, I hope not." He leaned across the small table and kissed her. He tasted like sugar and coffee. "I promise I won't, as long as you don't break mine." His voice was light but his green and gold eyes were serious. His hand gently curved around her nape. "My turn. Are you afraid of someone?"
Adrienne stiffened. Seth retreated but his gaze stayed on her.
She searched behind his eyes, looking for the truth inside him. Could she trust him? Was he a different kind of man? A man she could believe in?
"Yes." She wasn't even sure which question she was answering, his or her own.
Seth's eyes turned dark, and he seemed to loom protectively over her.
"Are you going to make a deal with Jerome Senegal?" Adrienne watched him closely.
He froze for an instant. He looked past her. "No. Is the person you're afraid of threatening you?"
She had to stop this. He was getting too close too fast. Her instinctive trust of him was colliding midair with her fear for herself and her mother. "I don't want to do this anymore," she said, wiping her hands on her napkin. "Can we leave?"
Seth stilled her hands with one of his. "Not until you answer my question. Is he threatening you?"
His face was open and sincere. Everything he did and said told her he cared about her. She yearned to confide in him. But he'd lied to her. He'd deliberately led her to believe he'd never been to New Orleans before.
The conflicting things about him, like his obvious familiarity with New Orleans, and the sexy, fascinating way he slipped in and out of his odd accent, made her certain that he was not who he was pretending to be.
"Is your name really Seth Lewis?"
He stared at her for an instant, then took a swift breath and, right before her eyes he changed. His expression turned bland, his eyes lost their sparkle.
"Okay." He grimaced and sighed. "My real name is Sethan David Lewis. But look who's not playing fair now," he said, a sudden false lightness in his voice that didn't match his face or his abruptly tense body. "You didn't answer my question."
Adrienne felt like crying. She'd wager that Sethan David Lewis was not his real name. She was certain he'd told her more than one lie.
Who was he really? Her experience told her he couldn't possibly be as genuine as he seemed. Her first i
nstinct was probably correct.
He was just using her to get in with the mob.
Seth knew his reluctance to open up to Adrienne had upset her. That's why she had cut their conversation short and insisted they leave immediately. He wanted to stop the car, take her in his arms and tell her the whole truth—about his father, about his shattered dreams, about his deception. He wanted to beg her to forgive him. But this wasn't just the two of them. It was much bigger.
The drug the mob was placing on the streets was deadly. Seth had signed on to stop the Cajun Mob from distributing the drags and endangering lives. He had a responsibility that went beyond his personal feelings.
After he dropped Adrienne off at her home, he went by Crescent City Transports to see Conrad Burke, who was in conference with Tanner Harrison.
When Seth reported to them that Adrienne was growing suspicious of his cover story, Burke and Harrison exchanged a glance.
"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Burke said. "What will be interesting is what she does with the information."
Seth bristled, but stood quiet and still.
"Will she keep it to herself or will she go to Arse-nault or Senegal with it?"
Harrison looked at Seth. "How much did you tell her?"
"I thought it'd be better to keep my mouth shut."
"So you neither confirmed nor denied," Harrison said with a small smile.
Seth inclined his head. "But she's no fool."
Burke nodded. "We're counting on that."
After a quick shower Adrienne drove out to St. Cecilia's to see her mother. On the way, her mind kept replaying the way Seth had acted. Why had he refused to tell her about visiting New Orleans before? What was the big secret? As the security guard let her car through the gates of St. Cecilia's Nursing Home, Adrienne forced herself to stop asking questions for which she had no answers.
She concentrated on the beautiful grounds around her as she drove toward the turn-of-the-century building that had once housed a convent for Carmelite nuns. The grounds were impeccably kept, with graceful willow and oleander trees and beds of colorful annuals dotting the manicured lawn. Ancient live oaks guarded the circular drive to the main building that served as home to retired nuns, as well as an assisted living community and nursing home.
