A Contract Seduction
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Janice Maynard
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15.2K
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18
One
Tumor. Inoperable. Cancer.
Jonathan Tarleton gripped the steering wheel, white knuckled, and stared unseeingly through the windshield. The traffic on the 526 beltway that surrounded Charleston was light in the middle of the day. Even so, he probably shouldn’t be driving. He was undoubtedly in shock. But all he could think about was going home.
Like an injured animal seeking its den, he needed to go to ground. To hide. To come to grips with the unimaginable.
Thank God, his sister was recently married and living with her new husband, Jonathan’s best friend. If Jonathan had come face-to-face with Mazie at the big house out at the beach, his sibling would have known instantly that something was wrong. The two of them were close.
Under ordinary circumstances, neither Jonathan nor Mazie would still be living under the roof where they had grown up. But their father was all alone and getting more and more feeble day by day. Though a number of the old man’s friends had moved to communities where they had companionship and medical care close at hand, Gerald Tarleton clung to his fortress of a home on a barrier island.
Jonathan pulled into the under-house parking and rested his forehead on his hands. He felt weak and scared and angry. How the hell was this going to work? He was the sole force that directed the family shipping company. Even though his father’s name was still on the letterhead, Jonathan carried the weight of the entire enterprise.
His twin brother should have been here to help, but Hartley was nowhere to be found. After inexplicably stealing a million dollars from the company and then vanishing, Hartley had been written out of the will and out of their lives.
The betrayal had cut Jonathan to the bone. It was a secret hurt that ate at him like the disease in his body. He and his father were the only ones who knew what had happened. They hadn’t wanted to break Mazie’s heart or tarnish her image of her big brother.
With a shaking hand, Jonathan turned off the ignition. Instantly—now that the AC was unavailable—humidity began to filter into the vehicle. Jonathan was a South Carolina lowlander to the bone, but the summer heat could be brutal.
He gathered his things and headed upstairs. Because of security concerns, the Tarletons had two high-tech offices inside the house in addition to those at Tarleton Shipping headquarters. Not only did the arrangement ensure privacy when necessary, but it meant that Jonathan could keep tabs on his father. The situation sometimes cramped his style, but he had a condo in the city where he could escape on occasion.
For a man of thirty-one, almost thirty-two, his social life was a joke. He dated occasionally, but few women understood the demands he juggled. His family’s decades-old shipping empire was both his great privilege and his curse. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt close to any woman, physically or otherwise.
But he made the sacrifices willingly. He was proud of what the Tarletons had built here in Charleston. Proud, and absolutely determined to see it thrive.
He paused for a moment in the living room to stare out through the expansive plate-glass windows to the ocean glittering beneath a June sun. The view never failed to soothe him. Until today.
Now, the immensity and timelessness of the sea mocked him. Humans were little more than specks in the cosmos. Grains of sand on the immense sandy beach of the infinite universe.
All the old clichés were true. Facing one’s mortality turned everything upside down. Time, that nebulous resource that once seemed a cheap commodity, was suddenly more precious than anything he had ever stored in a bank vault.
How long did he have? The doctor said six months. Maybe more. Maybe less. How was Jonathan going to tell his sister? His father? What would happen to the company, his family’s legacy? Mazie had her own interests, her own life.
She would be the sole owner of the family business once Jonathan and Gerald were gone. Since she had never shown any signs that she was interested in being a hands-on partner in Tarleton Shipping, maybe she would sell. Perhaps that would be for the best. The end to an era.
The thought pained him more than he could say. Until today he hadn’t realized exactly how much he was emotionally invested in the company. It wasn’t merely a job to him. It was his birthright and a symbol of his family’s place in Charleston’s history.
Moments later, he found Gerald Tarleton dozing in a chair in the den. Jonathan didn’t wake his father. He felt raw and out of control. And his head hurt like hell.
The debilitating headaches had started almost a year ago. At first they were infrequent. Then the episodes increased. One doctor said it was stress. Another wrote it off as migraines.
A dozen medications had been tried and discarded. Today his doctor had given him a handful of sample pills, along with a prescription for more. Right now Jonathan could take one, climb into bed and hopefully sleep off the throbbing pain.
But that wouldn’t solve the bigger problems.
The prospect of drugged oblivion was almost irresistible. He didn’t want to face another minute of this wretched day. But when he reached the kitchen, he grabbed a tumbler, filled it with tap water and downed a couple of over-the-counter acetaminophen tablets.
He had responsibilities. Responsibilities that weren’t going anywhere. The only thing that had changed was the time line.
Jonathan always thrived under pressure. Give him a project, a deadline, and he would leap into motion. The adrenaline rush of achieving the impossible drove him to labor, to excel, to work harder than he had to.
Those traits would stand him in good stead for the next few months.
Grimly he leaned his hip against the marble countertop. In that instant, he made his first postdiagnosis decision. He would keep this news under wraps for now. There was no reason for his family and friends to be upset. To grieve. There would be plenty of time for that when he was gone. Right now, all he wanted was to preserve the status quo.
The first order of business was to make a plan. He would figure this out. Vague, desperate ideas flitted through his brain, each one more flawed or untenable than the last. There had to be an answer. He couldn’t simply walk off into that final great sunset and let everything sink into ruin.
He needed time to process, to come to terms with the sword of Damocles hanging over his head. His money and power and influence were worthless currency now. He couldn’t buy his way out of this...
Lisette Stanhope punched in the alarm code, waited for the large gates to slide back and then drove slowly onto the Tarleton property. Even after working with Jonathan Tarleton for six years, she never failed to appreciate the magnificence of his family home.
Tarletons had lived for decades on the tip of a small barrier island just north of the city. Their fifteen acres were more than enough for the compound that included the main house and several smaller buildings scattered around.
An imposing gated iron fence protected the enclave on land. Water access was impossible due to a high brick wall at the top of the sand. The beach itself was public property, but no one could wander onto Tarleton property, either out of curiosity or with dangerous motives. Hurricanes and erosion made the wall outrageously expensive to maintain, but the current Tarleton patriarch was by nature paranoid and suspicious, so security was a constant concern.
When she saw Jonathan’s car parked beneath the house, her heart sank. He was usually not home this time of day. She’d been hoping to slip in, say hello to Gerald and put the envelope in her purse on Jonathan’s desk.
She could have carried out her errand at the main office where she worked most of the time, but this particular scenario demanded privacy. The decision to turn in her resignation had her stomach in knots. Jonathan would be either furious or perplexed—or both.
After reading her brief note, he would demand an explanation. Naturally. She had been practicing her speech. In a rut. New challenges. More time to travel. When she said the words in front of her bathroom mirror, they almost seemed believable. The part that made her wince was acknowledging how good Jonathan and his family had been to her.
Lisette’s mother had suffered a debilitating stroke when Lisette was in grad school. For almost seven years, Lisette had worked two jobs and barely managed to keep food on the table and pay the stable of women who helped care for her mother’s considerable needs.
Being hired by Tarleton Shipping six years ago had literally changed her life. The generous salary and benefits package had relieved her financial worries to a great extent and had enabled her to spend quality time with her mother.
When her mom had a second stroke and passed away last fall, Jonathan had insisted that Lisette take ample time to mourn and to handle her mother’s affairs. Not many other bosses in a corporate setting would have been so generous.
And now Lisette was about to repay Jonathan’s immense consideration by abandoning the company...by abandoning her boss.
He wouldn’t see this coming, but it was her only choice.
She wanted marriage—a husband and a baby and a normal, ordinary life. Mooning over her boss for another year or two or five was never going to bring those dreams to fruition. She’d had a silly crush on Jonathan, but he’d never once given any indication that he felt the same. She needed a fresh start, a new setting, a chance to meet another man and get Jonathan out of her system once and for all. Her personal life had been on hold for so long she barely knew how to begin, but she knew instinctively that she had to move on.
Her heart slugged in her chest. She didn’t want to face him. Guilt and other messier emotions might derail her plan.
When she opened the door at the top of the stairs, again with a code punched in, she stepped into a house that echoed with quiet. Maybe Jonathan wasn’t here after all. Maybe a friend had picked him up. Or maybe he was with Mazie and J.B. The newlyweds loved entertaining.
Finding Gerald Tarleton dozing in his favorite recliner was no surprise. Lisette tiptoed past, careful not to wake him. Perhaps if Jonathan was gone or at least upstairs, she could slip in and out without a confrontation.
The upper levels were the family’s living quarters. At the back of the main floor, overlooking the driveway, were two rooms that had been outfitted with every conceivable feature to make the offices here as good as or better than the ones downtown.
The smaller of the two was Lisette’s domain. She had started out with Tarleton Shipping in accounting but quickly moved up the food chain until she became Jonathan’s executive assistant, a title she had held for the past three years. Her job was to do anything and everything to make his life run more smoothly.
And she was good at it. Very good.
A quick visual exploration confirmed that no one was in either office. Now that she was here, her misgivings increased tenfold. She reached into her purse for the crumpled envelope and extracted it. The door between the two offices stood open.
Last night she had composed and revised a dozen versions. Resigning via a letter was cowardly. Jonathan deserved to hear her decision directly. But she couldn’t do it. She was afraid he would try to change her mind.
Her hands were sweating. Once she did this, there would be no going back. Just as she was ready to approach his desk and place her missive in a prominent position, a deep male voice came from behind her.
“Lisette. What are you doing?”
Rattled and breathless, she spun around, managing to stash the envelope in her skirt pocket. “Jonathan. You startled me. I thought you weren’t home.”
He cocked his head, giving her a quizzical smile. “I live here,” he reminded her.
“Of course you do.” She wiped her hands on her hips. “When you weren’t at the office, I thought I might come out to the house. You know. In case you needed me.” The lie rolled off her lips.
Jonathan barely seemed to register her awkward phrasing. For the first time she saw that his face was pale. And he seemed tense. Distracted.
“Jonathan? Is something wrong?” He couldn’t have known what she was about to do...could he?
He stared at her. “It hasn’t been a great day.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” Maybe fate had saved her from really bad timing. This was not the look of a man who would take her resignation with equanimity.
“I don’t know.” He spoke the words slowly, almost as if he were in a daze.
Now his demeanor began to worry her. The Jonathan she knew was sharp and decisive, a brilliant boss who ran his massive company with an iron fist but was also scrupulously fair.
She touched his forearm briefly, mostly because she couldn’t help herself. “What’s going on? Did we lose the Porter deal?”
He shook his head. “No.” He shuffled a few papers on his desk. “I sent you some emails last night. Why don’t you handle those? Then I might dictate a few letters.” He winced and put a hand to his head, his pallor deepening.
Lisette knew about the headaches. She and Jonathan worked together closely, and she was well aware that he had been plagued by the pain for months now. “Have you taken anything?” she asked quietly. “I can see that you’re hurting.”
His grimace spoke volumes. “Yes. But not long ago.”
“Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down? You can forward your cell to the phone here. I’ll come get you if it’s anything urgent.”
Even hurting and not at his best, Jonathan Tarleton was handsome and charismatic. He carried an aura of absolute control. Seeing him so vulnerable was both shocking and unsettling.
“An hour,” he said gruffly. “No more. I’ll set the alarm on my phone.”
Jonathan climbed the stairs slowly. Reality began to sink in. This situation wasn’t going to improve. He could get another opinion, but what was the use? He’d been to multiple doctors. This last set of tests was the first time he had received a definitive answer.
In his large, well-appointed bedroom, he cursed beneath his breath and admitted to himself that he needed the pills. He had to think clearly, and right now his head felt like someone was using it for a bongo drum.
Once he was sprawled on his comfortable mattress, he lay very still and waited for the meds to work. Knowing that Lisette was downstairs helped. Though he didn’t doze, he let his mind wander. Slowly his body relaxed. Stress was a killer. The irony of that didn’t escape him.
Thinking about Lisette was both comforting and arousing. She had been a part of his life for a long time now. His personal, rigid code of ethics meant that he never acted on his attraction to her. They were work colleagues. Nothing more. He had regretted that at times, but now he should be glad. He was going to need someone in his corner who could be objective about what was to come.
Lisette was a soothing personality. Her competence and complete ability to handle any and every crisis were what had won him over in the beginning. He trusted her with any number of confidential work details, everything from high-level negotiations to financial secrets.
Some men might overlook her. Her brown hair and quiet personality were unremarkable. She had a feminine shape, but she didn’t dress to impress. Her sexiest trait was her brain. She challenged him, kept him on his toes. The truth was, she was as capable as he, though she was always careful not to overstep her position.
Jonathan wouldn’t have cared even if she had. He knew she could go to any company in the country or even abroad and land a prestigious job. For that reason, he had increased her salary in regular bumps to show her how much she was appreciated. And he had given her more and more responsibilities as she proved her loyalty to Tarleton Shipping.
Gradually the tension in his muscles began to ease. The pain in his head subsided to a dull ache instead of stabbing torture. As he began to feel more like himself, an idea bubbled to the surface.
What if he negotiated with Lisette to sub for him over the next few months when he wasn’t able to function? He never knew from one day to the next how he was going to feel. If Lisette was deputized to make unilateral decisions, Jonathan would be able to mentally relax.
Better still, what if she could be the one to save Tarleton Shipping for the next generation? She had the brains and the people skills. And he knew she cared deeply about the company.
It would also mean he could postpone telling his family for a little bit longer. The prospect of hurting the people he loved flayed him. How could he dump that kind of news on them? It might kill his father. Mazie and J.B. were struggling with fertility. They sure as hell didn’t need grief on top of that.
The doctor had said he might have longer than six months. Eating well and getting plenty of rest were supposed to be key. Jonathan was willing to fight, but the odds were definitely not in his favor. If a cure was out of the question, then all he could hope for was time enough to secure his legacy and the company’s future. The more he contemplated the next few months, the more he became convinced that Lisette was the key to it all.
At last he stood and raked his hands through his hair. After splashing water on his face, he studied his reflection in the mirror. He’d taken some hard knocks in his life, but this was the worst. Grimly he weighed the cost of bringing Lisette in on the secret. He couldn’t stand to be pitied or coddled.
There would have to be ground rules. And she had to know this new role was optional. If she said no, he would go it alone.
By the time he padded back downstairs in his stocking feet, almost two hours had passed. Both offices were empty. He found Lisette perched on an ottoman chatting with his father. She always went out of her way to make the old man feel special.
Gerald Tarleton had become a father late in life. Which was why Jonathan, at thirty-one, now bore the sole responsibility for running a mammoth enterprise. He strode into the room, watching both of their faces. Lisette’s was serene. His father tried to give him a hard time.
“Napping in the middle of the day, son? That’s my job.”
Jonathan ruffled his father’s hair and perched on the arm of the sofa. “I had a devil of a headache, but I’m feeling better now.”
“Are you really?” Lisette asked, her gaze troubled.
He nodded. “Really.” After a moment of chitchat about the weather, Jonathan stood. “You’ll have to excuse us, Dad. Lisette and I have a few things to wrap up before she goes home.”
“Of course. Besides, I’ve got to make sure the housekeeper has all the food ready. The boys are coming over for poker at six.”
The “boys” were all Gerald’s age. Jonathan was happy to see his father pursuing social interests. Both Mazie and Jonathan had been encouraging him to get out of the house more. He’d been depressed over the winter, but things were improving.
Lisette followed Jonathan back to the offices. “I took care of everything you sent me so far. Is there anything else you need today? If not, I’ll see you downtown in the morning.”
Jonathan stared at her intently, allowing his customary reserve to dissolve for a moment. Lisette was everything he liked in a woman and more. Beautiful, insightful, funny. And subtly sexy in a way some men might miss. Was he hatching this plan to save his family’s business, or was his libido steering the ship?
He was about to find out.
