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Temptation
Temptation
Donna Hill
MILLS & BOON
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Prologue
Fast.
The sleek bronze-toned Mercedes-Benz convertible sped down the black tarred San Francisco freeway. Jordan had purchased the car for her a year ago, to celebrate her twenty-seventh birthday and their fourth wedding anniversary. Just before…. Noelle shook her head and stepped on the gas. She wouldn’t think about it.
Faster. The turbo charged engine hurtled forward. Her honey-colored hair, fashioned after actress Halle Berry, whipped around her coppertoned face. Maybe if she drove faster she could make the memories rush past like the scenery that graced the precisely manicured lawns. Rush past the incompleteness that was her life, now that Jordan was dead.
She’d allowed herself to be totally transformed by the charismatic Jordan Maxwell. He’d taken a scrawny, uneducated girl from the New Orleans bayou and turned her into one of the most powerful women on the West Coast. She’d come so far from where she’d been, her past was almost a blur. She was in limbo. She could never go back, and the powers that be, would keep her from going forward.
Without thinking, she adjusted the black sunglasses on her nose. The simple gesture had become habitual. The designer accessory had become her signature for nearly a year.
Noelle didn’t wear the blacker than black glasses so much for sun, or to hide the tears that so frequently welled up in her eyes. She wore them more to camouflage the emptiness that had taken up residence in the dark brown orbs.
She couldn’t let them see the void or the fear that kept her walking the floors at night. There were too many jealous onlookers—so-called friends that couldn’t wait to see her fail. She knew that they snickered behind her back and that hurt her more than she’d ever let on. And no one was more outraged at her success than Trent Dixon.
Noelle rounded the hairpin turn with ease and recalled a conversation she’d stumbled upon at a party one night. It was not only amusing that Jordan hadn’t turned his company reins directly over to her, but expected, she’d overheard. Noelle was an heiress to an empire with no throne. Trent had been with Jordan when he’d hit his first big deal in the Sudan. Trent knew everything there was to know about the import-export business. Noelle supposed that it was only fitting that Trent be handed the reins. As far as she was concerned, Trent Dixon could take the company and go straight to hell.
She’d never had any interest in the import-export business and Jordan was fully aware of that fact. Her views and his remained in opposition throughout their marriage. Nonetheless, she’d continue to receive her share of the profits whether she took over or not. What she really wanted to sink her teeth into was the villa, Liaisons. The villa that Jordan had willed to her. She had plans for that. Big plans. She’d make a name for herself on her own terms, not on Jordan Maxwell’s coattails, and certainly not under the tutelage of Trent Dixon. He was the last person she wanted anything to do with.
Every time she thought about Trent Dixon she got a headache. Her body began to overheat and she couldn’t think straight. There was no way that she was looking forward to their impending meeting, since their long-distance phone conversations over the past year had been anything but cordial. They had been treading the thin line between chilly politeness and outright sarcasm. Anytime he called to advise her that her signature was required on a document, even over the scratchy phone connection, Noelle could practically taste his indignation all the way from the Sudan. But he would never know how deeply she despised him. There was nothing that he could ever say or do that would make her believe that he didn’t have something to do with Jordan’s death. And for that she’d never forgive him.
He was scheduled to arrive in the States in two weeks. She’d never met him face to face. For some strange reason the thought of his arrival made her nervous. Because of that, it was more important than ever that Liaisons be perfect when he arrived. There was no one better than Tempest Dailey to pull off that miracle. And she’d done precisely that. The gala opening of Liaisons was scheduled for the following evening.
Tempest and her husband Braxton were two people who had risen above the others and proven themselves to be true friends. Noelle couldn’t wait to see Tempest again.
Noelle stepped on the gas while smoothly cutting around a red Porsche. She checked the digital clock on the dash. Twenty minutes before Tempest’s plane was to arrive. If she kept up the 85 mph speed, she’d beat the plane with time to spare.
Chapter 1
The trill of soft music wafted across the warm San Francisco night. Hundreds of twinkling lights hung from the trees, the balustrades and windows, turning the enormous villa into a fairyland.
Noelle St. James-Maxwell breathed a sigh of contentment. Everything was exquisite. The caterers had laid out a fare fit for royalty. Every imaginable delicacy was there for the taking. She smiled in satisfaction as she regally strolled across the grounds, nodding and waving, greeting the guests, the curious, the envious.
Noelle couldn’t call any of them friends, she thought, ruefully, shaking hands with the president of NBC studios. She knew they’d all come to gawk, to pass their comments, stir more rumors and most of all, to see if the young widow of Jordan Maxwell had what it took to run his empire.
They wanted her to fail, she knew, smiling graciously at the arrival of Whitney and her superstar husband. The circle of elite associates that her late husband surrounded himself with were a tight-knit, cliquish group. They turned their noses up at any who were not one of them. Background, education and family trees were more important than personal substance. Noelle couldn’t count a friend among them. The group had yet to adjust to the fact that Jordan Maxwell, owner of one of the largest import-export companies in the U.S., a man who could have any woman he chose, had plucked a no-count waitress from the bowels of the Louisiana swampland and dropped her in their midst. They were still reeling from that indignity five years later.
Jordan had groomed her for a world that she had never fully adjusted to and was never accepted in. Liaisons was her first real attempt at anything independent of Jordan. The thought of failure terrified her, and failure would solidify every negative comment ever said about her. For that reason, she’d never let them see the loneliness or the fear that lived in her soul, visible only through her eyes. For now, the darkness would hide her secret.
But tonight was her success, she thought, shaking off the disturbing thoughts. Liaisons was the culmination of her dreams, a tribute to Jordan, and no one was going to ruin it. Not even Trent Dixon.
“Noelle! Noelle!”
She turned in the direction of the familiar voice, the smile she displayed being genuine for the first time in hours.
“Tempest.”
The two women embraced warmly, then quickly stepped back to assess the other.
“That dress is fabulous, girl,” Tempest enthused, admiring the silk sheath of champagne gold that seductively stroked Noelle’s notorious curves, reaching just above her slender ankles. The daring side split gave a teasing view of a perfect copper leg from ankle to hip.
Her soft creole accent floated through the air. “Merci. But of course you have outdone yourself, chère amie. Red was always your color.”
Tempest smiled at the compliment. With a wicked grin she asked, “What do you wear under something like that?”
Noelle smiled slyly, “Absolutely nothing.”
The two women laughed in unison, drawing the attention of one who stood apart from the growing crowd.
Quietly he watched the two beautiful women, but his attention was riveted on Noelle. He’d instantly recognized her. She was more magnificent than any newspaper clipping or photograph, he realized with a jolt that shot straight to his loins.
Her skin brought to mind the tangy taste of cinnamon. The silky head of chestnut hair, begged him to run his fingers through it. Her statuesque form screamed sensuality. Yet she had a presence that demanded respect. She was a woman who could make a man want to keep her in bed and never let her out. By just looking at her, the stirrings of arousal swept through him. He began to imagine what she would feel like moving beneath him.
Damn, man, what the hell are you doing? Fantasizing about making love to your best friend’s widow?
He took a quick sip of champagne. In all of the years that he’d worked with Jordan, he’d never met the woman who’d captured the icon’s heart. His years of work in the Sudan had kept him out of the States. Now he could see exactly why Jordan had remained so faithful even when he was away from home for months at a time.
Being home again was going to take some getting used to. Especially since he knew he was not welcome here. But he had a job to do. He’d taken an unbreakable oath and he would fulfill Jordan Maxwell’s wishes. His beautiful widow would just have to accept that.
As if reading his thoughts, Noelle slowly turned her gaze in his direction. The contact was electrifying. She felt hot and cold at once. His unwavering deep stare seemed to see right through her. The dark eyes were unreadable and she felt naked and vulnerable under their appraisal.
What he saw in her eyes shook him to the marrow of his bones. There in the depths of the nut brown eyes was a haunting loneliness, a well of vulnerability and a compelling pain that made him want to pull her into his arms and make her know that he would make everything right with her world.
Then, as quickly as the force had taken hold of them, the contact was broken when Noelle’s attention was diverted by Tempest.
“Noelle? Are you all right? You look like you’ve been hit by lightning,” Tempest said.
Noelle shook her head. “I’m…fine.” She passed off a weak smile at Tempest, whose eyes turned in the direction of Noelle’s gaze.
“Who-is-that?” Tempest asked, admiring the man who defined tall, dark and handsome and made her wish her own gorgeous husband was there to wrap herself around.
“I’m not sure,” Noelle answered slowly, noticing that her pulse was racing.
“Well, with the vibes that the two of you are giving off, I suggest you find out. Don’t you?”
“Maybe later,” Noelle answered absently, not trusting the rush of emotions that swirled within her. She expelled a breath. “Where’s Braxton?” she asked, needing to change the subject, while forcing calm into her voice.
“I was just thinking the same thing.” Tempest checked her watch. Briefly she scanned the blooming crowd, while noticing that the handsome stranger had not taken his eyes off Noelle.
Braxton was not in sight. Tempest frowned. Over the past few months, Braxton’s absences and late arrivals had become a bone of contention between them. “He should have been here by now. His flight was scheduled to arrive nearly an hour ago.”
“You know how those flights from Morocco can be, chère. They’re always delayed.”
“Hmm. You’re probably right. But in the meantime,” she added, lowering her gaze to the ground as she spoke, “cutie pie is coming this way.”
Noelle angled her head to see him coming toward them. For some inexplicable reason her heart thundered so forcefully she momentarily felt breathless. The closer he came the quicker her pulse galloped.
He didn’t just walk, Noelle realized with growing alarm. His every move sizzled, tossing electric sparks in his wake.
Raw was the word that leaped into her brain. Raw, animal sexuality poured from him like sweat after hours of erotic loving. She felt dizzy.
“Good evening ladies.” His mellow voice warmed Noelle like brandy in winter. Politely he inclined his head toward Tempest, who smiled knowingly.
“Listen, Noelle, I’m going inside to call the airport. Please excuse me,” she said to both. Without another glance she walked up the small incline toward the main entrance.
“I hope it wasn’t anything I said,” he quipped, flashing a smile that made Noelle’s insides quiver.
Smoothly she returned his smile. “I’m sure it wasn’t. She’s expecting her husband. It seems his plane has been delayed.”
“In that case, I feel better.” His smile stroked her. “At least about it not being my fault.” He made a small show of looking over the grounds, if only to take his mind temporarily off of the face and body that was making him lose his sense of perspective.
In profile, Noelle stole the chance to observe him up close. He had to be over 6’3”, she noted, as he stood head and shoulders above her 5’8” height plus heels. His hard muscular body told her that he took care of himself. He had a strong chiseled face of smooth sienna, a well-tended beard that outlined his rugged chin. His eyes were wide and dark, shadowed by thick black lashes and thicker brows. His full, sensuous lips promised unmeasurable pleasure.
He had a real GQ look. Even in semicasual attire he gave the impression of power and confidence. He wore a suit of navy linen, that hung loosely on his body, as was the fashion. He chose to wear a V-neck T-shirt of white silk. The low collar entreated her to run her fingers across his chest. She curled them into a fist to quell the urge.
He returned his attention back to her and her flesh warmed under his gaze, shooting flashes of liquid desire to her center. She felt the tips of her breasts ripen under his open perusal, which made her even more self-conscious.
She feels it, too, he realized, her ardor boldly evident through the revealing dress, even as he fought to control the turbulence of passion that raged within him.
He forced his mind to clear. “This is a beautiful place you have. You’ve done wonders with it.”
Noelle’s tapered eyebrows arched. “You’re familiar with the villa, monsieur?”
“Actually,” he replied in a confidential tone, “I was with Jordan when he purchased it almost ten years ago. He always had intentions of working on it, but…” His sentence drifted off. “I’m glad to see that his very beautiful wife decided to take it over.”
His dark eyes held hers a moment too long and Noelle felt lightheaded. It must be the champagne.
She cleared her throat. “It seems that you know a great deal about me, monsieur…?”
“Noelle! Noelle!”
Noelle turned around to see Braxton and Tempest coming toward her. Her face lit up when she saw Braxton approach. It had been months since she’d last seen him. After the completion of the interior architecture and the landscaping, he’d had to fly off to Morocco.
Now that both of the honored guests were present the official opening of Liaisons could commence.
Braxton embraced her in a warm hug. “It’s good to see you again, Noelle. I’m sorry to be so late, but my plane…” He gave her that smile that had imprisoned Tempest’s heart for life.
Noelle looked at her relieved girlfriend. “I told you,” Noelle admonished. She took Braxton’s arm and turned back to make introductions.
He was gone. All that remained was his erotic scent that seemed to have seeped into Noelle’s pores.
“Oh…” she muttered, a bit confused and somewhat embarrassed, looking over the heads of her guests.
“Is something wrong?” Braxton asked.
“No…I was just talking with…” She expelled a breath. “Never mind.” She smiled brightly. “Now that you’re here, I can make the announcement to open the house for the tour. That’s what’s important.”
For the next hour, Noelle, Tempest and Braxton were bombarded with congratulations and enthusiastic approval of the three-story villa.
Noelle’s jaws began to ache from the continual smile that she had carved on her mouth. But her thoughts were elsewhere. In every free moment, she subtly tried to locate the man whose image she couldn’t get off of her mind. He seemed to have vanished, and she didn’t even know his name.
“You’re completely distracted,” Tempest said, surprising Noelle with her nearness.
She laughed, embarrassed. “Is it that obvious?”
“Very.” Tempest followed Noelle’s gaze. “You’re looking for him aren’t you?”
Noelle’s shoulders slumped. “I am transparent, aren’t I?”
“Only to those that know you. So—who is he?”
Noelle turned her palms upward. “I still don’t know.”
“Excuse me? You mean that the two of you were practically undressing each other on the lawn and you don’t know who he is? You’re losing your touch.”
An underlying sadness scored her voice. “I’ve had no reason to be interested in a man in a very long time.”
“Yes, I know,” Tempest said softly, placing a comforting hand on Noelle’s bare shoulder, “but you’re a healthy, vibrant, beautiful woman. You can’t stay in hibernation forever. And you can’t use Liaisons to shield yourself from the world.”
Noelle’s voice quivered. “He’s only been gone a year. I…I just couldn’t…He was my life, my world. He…”
“He was just a man, Noelle,” Tempest said gently. “Just a man. Not the god that everyone, including you, made him out to be. I can’t believe that Jordan would want you to remain alone for the rest of your life. He groomed you to be a part of the world, not just the world that he created.”
Noelle lowered her eyes, struggling to fight back the tears that burned her eyes and seared her throat.
Her life had changed irrevocably. It was due to Jordan. Everything that she had, what she was, what she thought, was because of Jordan. He’d rescued her, brought new meaning to her life, gave her reason to want to get up everyday.
He’d turned her life around and now he was gone. He’d left her to deal with this evil, hungry world alone. To face his enemies that would just as soon help her as stab her in the back.
Five years ago, sweating in her aunt Chantal’s tiny café, darting the grubby hands of the male customers she would have never imagined that her life could have ever been any different. Not until the moment that Jordan Maxwell walked into her life. Since that day nothing in her life had ever been the same.
Forever would she recall the way he looked at her when he walked through those doors….
Chapter 2
“Noelle! Stop daydreaming,” her aunt Chantal ordered. “We have customers.”
Chantal wiped her hands on the once-white apron, and shook her head in annoyance.
“For a woman of eighteen, you sometimes act like an enfant,” she sputtered, tossing up her hands. “Get your head out of the clouds. There’s no knight waiting to rescue a poor orphan girl like you. This is your life, chère.”
Chantal marched off toward the kitchen, demanding and instructing all who came in her path.
Noelle sighed deeply, knowing all too well that her aunt was right. This was her life. Here in the bayou of New Orleans, forever at the disposal of someone else.
She knew her aunt meant well, even when her words were harsh. Chantal had immediately taken in Noelle when her mother, Vivian, had died. And Chantal had given her a home. With her father’s whereabouts unknown, Chantal became the only family Noelle had. Being Vivian’s older sister, Chantal felt it her duty to take in her niece. But not without a price.
Noelle had to drop out of school in order to work in Chantal’s café. Her aunt felt that an education was a waste of time. Once a person knew how to add, subtract and read the alphabet, school was useless. Common sense and a strong back would be how Noelle would make her way in the world.
Noelle had missed her school years. She missed her friends, she missed her youth. She felt doomed to a life of hard work and poverty.
Many nights she’d lie awake imagining beautiful clothes, a house that didn’t always smell of gumbo, and a wonderful husband who adored her. Dreams. But her aunt was right. Who would want her? She had nothing and would never be anything more than a poor, orphaned waitress.
She pulled her shoulder-length hair behind her ears and walked out of the supply room into the small café.
As usual, the dinner crowd had packed the café. Although, Chantal’s was on the outskirts of the city, patrons came from far and wide to sample the renowned cuisine.
Noelle put on her trained smile and began her routine of checking on customers and seating the incoming diners.
After seating one of her regular customers, she returned to her station at the door, and there stood Jordan Maxwell.
Immediately she knew that this man was different from all of the others. His clothing spoke of wealth, his posture indicated confidence and his smile was warm and inviting, not like the leers that she was used to.
“Bon soir, monsieur. May I help you?”
“I hope so,” he answered in a voice that vibrated through her like currents on the shore.
She felt suddenly nervous, and childlike under his steady gaze. She lowered her eyes, focusing them on her notepad.
“Will you be dining alone?” Irrationally she hoped that he was.
“Fortunately.”
Her head snapped up in question. Her face was hot with embarrassment, as if he’d read her mind. “Pardon?”
Jordan chuckled at her discomfiture while enjoying the lilt of her creole accent. “Fortunately, because I hope that you may be able to join me.”
“Oh, no, monsieur,” she mumbled, both flattered and afraid. Nervously she looked around for her aunt. “That is not possible.”
“Maybe not now. But you will. Perhaps next time,” he said, fully confident that it would be a reality.
Jordan looked at the lovely young woman and smiled. He was used to having what he wanted and from the moment he set eyes on Noelle, and saw the spark of eager intelligence in her eyes and the pride with which she wore her stained uniform, he determined that she would be his.
“In the meantime, I’d like a table and a bottle of your best wine—to toast the occasion of our meeting.”
Noelle felt her heart flutter. She didn’t know which way to look. Instead she turned and quickly guided him to a vacant table near the piano.
For the balance of the evening, she consciously avoided going near Jordan’s table. But it didn’t stop him from following her with his eyes.
Throughout the night, each time that Noelle dared to look in his direction, he raised his glass in a toast. Then, in an instant, without warning, he was gone.
Several months passed and Noelle didn’t see Jordan again. But she couldn’t seem to forget him or the way he’d made her young heart feel. Special. No one had ever done that before. Each time that she strolled through the teeming New Orleans streets, she thought she spotted him in the crowd. At night she dreamed of his face. The strong caramel features, wide dark eyes and hair that reminded her of the first sprinklings of snow.
Then, when she was beginning to believe that seeing him again was an impossibility, he reappeared one steamy night in August.
Noelle saw him standing in the doorway. A flood of heat swept through her and for several moments she stood immobile, unwilling to believe that he had returned. She willed her legs to move.
“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?”
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