Temptation

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember,” he said, his deep timbre thrilling her.

No one like him had ever called her beautiful. She smiled in response.

Her heart raced. “What brings you back after so long, monsieur?”

He took her hand in his. “I thought you’d be ready to have dinner with me now.”

Noelle felt her body tremble. She quickly looked around the café. She spotted her aunt scowling at her from the rear.

She looked up at him, her eyes begging him to understand. “Please, monsieur, my aunt…” She looked over her shoulder.

Jordan looked beyond Noelle and spotted Chantal.

“Let’s tell your aunt that you’ll be leaving.” Gently, he pulled Noelle behind him and walked up to Chantal.

That was the last day that Noelle worked in the café. Jordan had smoothly convinced Chantal that her niece had the potential to achieve wonderful things, and he was going to be sure that she did. In exchange for Noelle’s services, Jordan dutifully sent a very large check to Chantal each month, which seemed to appease her. However, it was difficult for Chantal to believe that a man like Jordan Maxwell could see any value in her meek, little niece. But if he was willing to pay for Noelle’s absence, who was she to argue? Perhaps Jordan saw something in Noelle that she, herself, had missed all of these years. She could only hope that Noelle would be happy in her new life.

For a man who had conquered every obstacle in his life, Noelle was a new challenge for Jordan. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his soul, Jordan saw in her a part of him that was missing. Her naïveté intrigued him. She didn’t have a greedy, or pretentious bone in her body. She was unlike any woman he’d ever known. But he knew that in order to fit into his world she would have to be molded as a sculptor models clay into a work of art.

Noelle was instantly caught up in Jordan’s vision of what he wanted for her. His dream became hers. She was overwhelmed by his expectations, thrilled at the possibilities yet frightened of the doors that he intended to open for her.

“You have talents that you have yet to discover,” he’d said to her. “I intend to bring them to the forefront for all of the world to see.”

The first step in her transformation was her education. Jordan hired private tutors to help refine her speech and catch up on her studies. Studies that were conducted in the cozy apartment that he’d selected for Noelle. With that completed, he sent her to the University of Virginia, where she’d met Tempest and Braxton. Her graduate work took place in Europe, Africa, the Orient. She purchased her leather from Italy, her jewels from Africa, her silks from Hong Kong. She visited the finest haute couture houses in Paris.

Noelle didn’t have time to think about what was happening to her. She felt as though she were in some magical dream world where Jordan was the magician who could make anything happen. But Jordan was a hard taskmaster. “Can’t” was not in his vocabulary. He demanded perfection from everyone around him, and accepted no excuses for anything less. He readily used ridicule as a weapon to propel you. Ultimately you produced, if for no other reason than to prove him wrong. In the end, you achieved what you thought was impossible, and secretly you thanked Jordan. He, in turn, received your loyalty.

With no close friends nearby, and her only family hundreds of miles away, Noelle was enveloped in the cocoon that was Jordan Maxwell. She relied on him for everything.

Noelle always felt as if she were in a never-ending dream. She agreed with every suggestion, critical comment or word of effusive praise that Jordan uttered, afraid that if she ever challenged Jordan’s wishes, for her, she’d wake up from her dream and find herself back in Chantal’s café.

Her transformation took five years to complete, and in the fifth year, Jordan married his creation.

Jordan Maxwell had literally swept Noelle off of her feet and into a world that she had only imagined. Only now it was more magnificent than she’d ever dreamed. She was only beginning to see the power that Jordan wielded. With a simple phone call he could have planes, boats, cars at his disposal. With a dash of his signature he could transfer millions of dollars. By simple request, he could secure the company of politicians, diplomats, movie stars. “Everyone has a weakness, Noelle,” Jordan often told her. “Find it and you have conquered them.”

Her sheltered years in New Orleans had left her naive about the ways of the world. Even her travels across the globe were chaperoned. She never imagined how much subterfuge, envy, and viciousness that existed in Jordan’s everyday life and did not believe the rumors of darker dealings.

What she did understand, however, was that she did not truly fit into his world. All of the fine clothes, the culture, the money, the power would not change the fact that she was only a cook from a backwater café. And to Jordan’s friends and associates, she always would be.

Jordan protected her as much as possible from the gossip. She, in turn, worshipped the ground that he walked on. But deep in her heart, she wondered if Jordan truly loved her. She knew he loved what he could do for her and he loved the person that he’d created. But did he truly love her? She didn’t think so.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Noelle,” Tempest said softly. She gently stroked her arm, pulling Noelle back from the depths of her memories.

Noelle blinked back the images. She gave Tempest a faltering smile. “I know,” she whispered. “These are my ghosts. I’ll find a way to banish them. One day.” She forced a smile. “In the meantime, I have a half dozen guests that have reservations for the opening weekend. So, shall we get them settled?”

Chapter 3

Trent moved like a caged panther around his suite, tossing his belongings around as if they were to be discarded.

Noelle St. James-Maxwell had unnerved him. That’s all there was to it. He’d never met a woman capable of doing that to him, especially without even trying.

He blew out an exasperated breath and jammed his hands in his pockets. How in the world was he supposed to accomplish what he’d come to do, if he couldn’t be in the same room with her without losing his cool? To compound the problem, once she realized who he was, he was sure she wouldn’t come within ten feet of him.

He ran his hand across his bearded chin. Perhaps he could get around that little inconvenience, he thought. At least until he won her confidence.

He stopped pacing. The wheels began to spin. He was sure that he could pull it off. All he needed was a few weeks, two months at best, and his work would be finished.

He strode across the room to the phone and picked up the elaborate Liaisons brochure that had only been distributed to the selected few. He dialed the private number.

The illuminated numbers on the bedside clock, were reflected in Noelle’s weary eyes. In little more than an hour the sun would rise across the bay. She hadn’t slept more than a few minutes all night.

Instead of succumbing to the fatigue that enveloped her, she tossed and turned, reliving the moment she’d heard of Jordan’s death. She never confided her true feelings to anyone about that moment.

She’d always been too ashamed.

No one really knew or understood her relationship with Jordan. On the surface, they appeared to be the fairy tale couple come to life. In a way, they were. They looked great together. Their goals were one. They were perfectly complementary. Yet her life was anything but a fairy tale, it was simply all that she knew.

While she respected and adored Jordan, he left her empty. She was a shell, a product of his creation. She missed something she had no name for and every so often pangs of loneliness would hit her. How many times had she questioned her reasons for remaining with Jordan? How many nights had she spent alone, unfulfilled, but too loyal to her husband to commit the unspeakable? Jordan sensed it too and inexplicably he provoked her, intentionally trying to drive her into another man’s arms.

Yet through all of her hurt and loneliness, she understood Jordan like no one else. She saw through the ruthlessness, the drive, to the vulnerable man beneath the facade. And she knew that as long as they remained husband and wife she would stay committed to her wedding vows. Vows that she believed in with all of her heart. “What God has joined together…” For that reason, she knew, deep inside, Jordan was grateful for her tenderness and compassion. In turn, he showered her with gifts, cars, jewelry. They traveled, they danced, they met dignitaries, they dined in all of the exotic places across the globe. But they never truly loved. Not in the same sense that a husband and wife loved. More like two dear friends who were truly indebted to each other for their very existence. An existence that was cruelly snatched away from her and she had only one man to blame.

It was nearly noon when Noelle emerged from her room. She’d finally fallen into a deep sleep shortly before sunrise, with dreams filled with vivid images of the man she’d met at the opening. The titillating dreams left her more on edge than before, which only added to her anxiety for having overslept.

She went directly to the lower salon to check the guests who had stayed over. Spotting Liaisons’s manager, Gina Nkiru, she quickly crossed the polished marble floor to Gina’s desk. As she approached she wondered, once again, why Gina had chosen the hotel industry as a career. With her exquisite streamlined looks and penchant for top of the line clothing, she could have easily been a success in the world of high fashion. Nonetheless, her credentials were above reproach.

Gina’s auburn head snapped up from her paperwork when she sensed a presence above her.

“Oh. Good morning, Mrs. Maxwell,” Gina beamed. She quickly rose and smoothed her mauve skirt. Gina felt honored to be asked to hold the highest position at Liaisons. Gina’s years of work in the hotel industry, working as her father’s aide at the embassy of Ghana and her multilingual skills had served her well in vying for this job. But all of her experience could not have prepared her for the mystique of Liaisons. It was something out of the most vivid imagination. She’d lost count of the celebrities and public figures that had graced the building the previous night. To think that many of them would become regular patrons was almost too much for Gina to comprehend.

Gina wished that she could tell her friends and family about everyone that she’d seen. But all employees were bound by legal contract never to divulge that information. That along with her uncompromising professionalism would never allow her to breach a trust.

Anonymity was the big draw of Liaisons. Each and every guest was secure in the knowledge that their identities and their dalliances would remain secret. Hence the name Liaisons. That and the $2,500.00 per night fee and the exclusion of any media, effectively deterred the foolhardy.

Even with that knowledge she was still stunned to be holding a cashier’s check for $75,000.00 for the new arrival, Cole Richards.

“How is everything Gina?” Noelle inquired, briefly scanning the guests as they milled about.

“So far, so good, Mrs. Maxwell.” She took a peek at the occupancy list that indicated, only, which suites were in use. “We have a total of ten guests. There are two vacant suites on level two, a vacancy on level one and one suite available on the penthouse floor.”

Noelle nodded. Satisfied. She allowed herself a brief moment of relief. “Let me take a look at the private register.”

Gina retrieved the leather-bound journal from the safe and handed it to Noelle.

Noelle scanned the names, nodding at each familiar one, until she reached the name Cole Richards. She frowned. “Who is this?” She pointed to the last entry.

Gina peered across the desk to the line that Noelle indicated with a French manicured finger.

“I’m sure I saw him last night, Mrs. Maxwell,” she assured with confidence. “He checked in about an hour ago. He’s on level three. He gave me this.” She showed Noelle the check.

Noelle’s brown eyes briefly widened in surprise. “$75,000.00?” She did a quick mental calculation. “He intends to stay for an entire month?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Did he provide the required references?”

“Yes. I filed them away. Would you like to see them?”

“Please.”

Gina exited through the door directly behind her desk into the back office. Momentarily she returned with a sealed folder. She handed it to Noelle.

“I’ll just take this to my office. I’ll be sure to return it before the end of the day.”

“Of course.” Gina started to feel uneasy. A tiny spot just beneath her left eye began to twitch—a sure sign. Her father always said that she was psychic, and her feelings were generally on target. She only hoped that this time her intuition was off.

Noelle turned to leave.

“Mrs. Maxwell?”

Noelle came around looking at Gina quizzically.

“Didn’t everyone who was here last night receive a personal invitation?”

“Yes. Unless they were the guest of someone who did. Why do you ask?”

“Then Mr. Richards must be a friend or the guest of someone that you know.”

“That remains to be seen.” She smiled briefly and headed in the direction of her office.

Gina swallowed back her trepidations. As she marked Noelle’s departure, she had the unsettling sensation that trouble was on the horizon. But she had her own secret to concern herself with, and it would take all of her diplomatic skills to keep it under wraps. If Noelle were ever to find out, she would surely lose this fabulous job.

Noelle took the short ride on the glass elevator to the lower level where her office was housed.

Within moments she’d broken open the plastic seal and had methodically run over the details that it contained.

There was a personal letter from her friend Senator Richard Thomas of California. He described Cole Richards in glowing terms, saying that they had been associates for several years and he was very familiar with Mr. Richards’ entrepreneurial skills in the aeronautical industry.

Planes. The thought evoked painful memories. She shoved them to the back of her mind. She set the letter aside and looked over the brief personal profile.

He was 35 years old, preferred privacy, home state New York. He would be staying for one month in suite number 9. He listed his occupation as an Aeronautical Consultant. No guests were expected.

Pensively she looked across the room and focused on the Picasso abstract, absently replacing the pages and closing the folder.

Suite number 9. That was on the east wing, set off by itself, she recalled. Braxton had designed it specifically for those that wanted the utmost privacy.

For some reason, Cole Richards had sparked her curiosity. She leaned back in her leather seat and Jordan’s words of wisdom echoed in her mind. Never leave anything to chance. You always stay ahead of your opponent by already knowing what they’re trying to find out.

Slowly she pushed herself away from her desk. Perhaps she’d pay a personal visit to her special guest. Just to satisfy her curiosity, of course.

Hesitantly, Noelle stood in front of suite number 9. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. After all, the profile did indicate that Mr. Richards wanted his privacy. Then again, she reasoned, as owner of Liaisons it was her responsibility to be assured that her guests’ anonymity was not compromised by any unscrupulous individual, which this Cole Richards very well could be. She felt mildly justified.

Inhaling deeply she knocked on the door, then waited for what seemed like an eternity. She was beginning to truly feel ridiculous. She turned to leave just as the door was snatched open.

“Yes?”

The familiar voice vibrated down her spine and momentarily held her in place. As she turned around to face him, her eyes locked on the bare, wet chest then drifted down to the white towel that scarcely covered his middle. Her mouth went dry and her face felt flushed, and for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything logical to explain her appearance. Standing before him she, once again, felt like the young inexperienced waitress instead of the twenty-eight-year-old businesswoman.

He merely stared at her, seeming totally nonplussed by his half-naked appearance. His cavalier attitude snapped her to her senses.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Monsieur Richards. It seems that I’ve come at a bad time.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Now why would you say that, Mrs. Maxwell?”

She quickly realized from his tone that he was teasing her, apparently taking great pleasure from their encounter.

“Would you like to come in while I—uh—put something on? I was expecting room service.”

Noelle straightened her shoulders and forced her gaze up from below his waist to focus on his eyes. She quickly discovered that wasn’t much better.

“I want to make a practice of visiting all of my guests,” she replied. “Especially those that intend to stay with us for a while.”

The smooth cadence of her voice reminded him of hot nights on sandy beaches with a full moon glowing above. Sensual.

“But I think I should come at another time. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” She made a move to leave.

He reached out and touched her shoulder and she swore that must be what an electric shock felt like.

His voice was low, throbbing. “I hope it’s not a problem that I’ll be staying for a while.” His fingers began to burn with the contact. Reluctantly he removed his hand. “I need the rest.” His smile held an invitation.

“I didn’t mean to give the impression that your stay was a problem.” She touched her hand to her chest. “I apologize.”

“None needed.” His eyes held hers.

Noelle was the first to look away.

“I—I must be going. If there’s anything you need…”

“I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Noelle gave him one last fleeting look, turned on her heel and walked quickly down the carpeted corridor.

Trent leaned casually against the door frame watching her hasty departure. The cool mint green linen dress just barely skimmed her knees. Last night he thought he’d had the perfect view of those luscious legs. Now he knew what had been left to the imagination.

He surprised himself with the control he exerted while she stood in front of him. It had taken every ounce of self-restraint to still the urges that pulsed through his loins, while she stood there looking so flustered, assured and delectable all at once.

Now that she knew he was there, the next phase of his plan had to be executed.

He shut the door. In a little more than ninety days, the notes would be called in. Everything that Jordan worked for would come tumbling down. The only person who could salvage his empire was Noelle. And the one she needed to learn the ropes from was him. The last man on earth she’d have anything to do with. He had to get her to trust him. Or at least trust Cole Richards.

Chapter 4

En route to her office, Noelle made good on her statement to Cole Richards. She took a short stroll through the gardens, the three dining rooms, the pool and the exercise room. She made a point to speak to each guest personally. Everyone that she met confirmed that the service and accommodations surpassed all expectations.

She should be elated, but instead she felt more under the microscope than ever. All eyes would be on Liaisons and her for the next few months. Everything had to be better than perfect.

The fact that Cole Richards was to be a long-term guest, mildly complicated matters. He made her feel things, think things, want things. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by him or anyone. Not now.

Arriving in her office, Noelle sorted through the mail and reviewed the bills that required her signature for payment. She casually flicked through the stack until she came across a plain white envelope addressed to her from Jordan’s attorney in Los Angeles.

Curious, she tore it open. As she read the unbelievable contents the words began to blur and her hands trembled.

Screaming denial rang in her brain. This must be some macabre joke. But as she continued to read the familiar scrawl she knew that it was true.

The light knocking on the door, nearly caused her to cry out. She cleared her throat and swallowed back the tears. The knock came again. She pushed control into her voice.

“Yes? Come in.”

The door swung open. “Well. Good afternoon.” Tempest whisked in closing the door behind her. She took a seat on the low sleek, leather couch. “Whew. I’m exhausted. What a night.”

“I know. It was better than I expected,” Noelle answered absently.

Tempest frowned. “You don’t sound like you’re too pleased.”

Noelle briefly shook her head. “Of course I’m pleased. Why shouldn’t I be? Liaisons’s opening surpassed everything that I ever dreamed,” she concluded, pointedly avoiding Tempest’s steady gaze.

Tempest pursed her full red lips and crossed her legs.

“How long have we been friends, Noelle?”

The question caught Noelle off guard. She forced a laugh. “For more than eight years. Why?”

“We’ve always been honest with each other, right?”

“Of course. What are you getting at?”

“Something’s bothering you. And I want to know what it is. Maybe I can help.”

Slowly Noelle rose from her seat and turned away to face the window that covered the expanse of the wall. Her view took in the outdoor pool and rested on Cole Richards as he emerged from the water. His muscles rippled with every move. Her pulse picked up its pace while she watched him stride across the pavement into the villa.

She turned away from the window and forced a smile as she faced her friend. “I only wish there were something you could do.”

Tempest rose. “Is there a problem with Liaisons? Are you ill? Talk to me,” she pleaded softly.

Noelle’s lids fluttered as she tried to hold back her tears. She crossed her arms, embracing herself as if the act could contain the torrent of emotions that threatened to overflow.

Alarmed, Tempest hurried to her side, bracing Noelle’s shoulders. “Noelle, what is it?” She guided Noelle to the couch. “Whatever it is, it can be worked out,” Tempest assured, her soothing voice washing over Noelle.

Noelle solemnly shook her head and wiped the tears away from her cheeks.

“It’s just so bizarre.”

Tempest heard the strain in her voice. “What is?” she coaxed.

Noelle angled her chin toward the desk. “Over there. On the desk there’s a letter. From Jordan.”

Trent returned to his suite. His body felt rejuvenated after the vigorous swim. His mind was clearer. Physical exercise always had a positive impact on him. Whenever he felt stressed or worried he found a way to expel it in some form of activity.

Swimming was just one outlet, but flying was his passion. He’d been flying since he was eighteen. He’d gotten his pilot’s license at twenty and was a certified instructor by twenty-two.

His skills as a pilot became public knowledge after a stint with the airforce. His unit, led by him, had successfully pulled off a rescue mission of an American diplomat held in the Middle East.

From there he wrote his own ticket. He became a pilot for hire, flying anywhere, anytime. Which was how he met Jordan Maxwell and became his personal pilot and business partner.

Without warning, images of Noelle pushed thoughts of Jordan out of his mind. He clenched his teeth. He had to stay focused.

He stepped out of his wet trunks and strode naked across the room. It was now or never, he thought as he dialed the villa operator.

“Yes, Mr. Richards?”

“I need to rent a car within the hour.”

“That’s no problem. Just follow the instructions on the voice-activated system when I switch you to the rental department.”