Dangerous Temptation. Anne Mather
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Wasn’t that the truth?
“Okay.” Jake heaved a sigh. “So, how come you owe this guy half a million?”
“Well…” Nathan expelled his breath noisily. “Look, Jake, are you going to help me or not? I need to know if I’m wasting my time.”
“I don’t know what you want yet,” Jake declared evenly. “It sounds like you’ve been embezzling money from the company. I guess that might explain why you can’t ask Caitlin for help.”
His brother’s expression was almost comic. Or it would have been if it hadn’t been so serious. “How the hell did you find out?” he demanded jerkily. “Are you psychic or something? How long have you known? Have you told the old man?”
Jake blinked, too stunned for a moment to work out what he meant. “What old man?” he asked blankly, and Nathan gazed at him with suspicious eyes.
“My old man—our old man,” he exclaimed irritably, and Jake suspected his brother had had more to drink than just a few beers. How the hell could he have told their father anything? He hadn’t known there was anything to tell.
“I haven’t told Jacob Wolfe a thing,” Jake assured him flatly. “How could I? I still don’t know what’s going on.” He took a steadying breath. “For Christ’s sake, Nate, what have you done?”
Nathan’s hand was gripping his beer so tightly, Jake was amazed the bottle didn’t shatter. “I’m trying to tell you, aren’t I?” he snarled. “It’s all that old man’s fault. He should be dead!”
At Jake’s look of surprise, Nathan explained, “Matt—Matthew—Matthew Webster. The lying bastard! He’s been supposed to be dying for years.”
Jake watched him. “You’re talking about Caitlin’s father? The man you hoped would make you a director of his company when you married his daughter?” He paused. “What happened? Did he change his mind?”
“Hell, yes.” Nathan jerked back. “That is, no—no. I am a director. And I deserve it, believe me, after what I’ve gone through. I’ve spent the past three years sucking up to that old devil. And what have I got to show for it?” His mouth twisted. “Fuck all!”
Jake shook his head. “What did you expect?”
“I expected to be running the company by now,” said Nathan, chewing the inside of his lower lip. “Like I said, the old guy was supposed to be dying. I was supposed to be his successor.” His lips curled contemptuously. “Me. Nathan. The son he never had.”
“So what went wrong?”
“Nothing.” Nathan grunted. “Everything.” His fists clenched again, and Jake wondered if he was imagining they were around Matthew Webster’s neck. “I’m still no nearer to taking control of the company than I ever was. He’s taken on someone else to do the job I was supposed to do.”
Jake frowned. “So—you decided he owed you, hmm?”
“I needed the money,” said Nathan defensively. “Webster barely pays me enough to live on as it is. Can I help it if I get into difficulties?”
Jake took a deep breath. “How the hell did you get your hands on half a million in the first place?”
“It’s a long story.” Nathan was evasive. “And I’d have gotten away with it, too, but that bastard’s not going to let me.”
“Walker?” Jake tried to be patient. “But how does he know?” He paused. “Did you tell him about it?”
“Don’t be stupid!” Nathan gave him an aggravated look. “It was his idea, wasn’t it? I couldn’t have done it at all without his help.”
“I thought you said you owed him.”
“I did. I do.” Nathan emptied his bottle. “Okay. Okay. I was gambling, right? I—got in too deep, and Carl fished me out.”
Jake groaned. “A loan shark.”
“Sort of.”
Jake grunted. “So—okay,” he said. “This guy’s got you over a barrel. Why don’t you do what he says and quit feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Because I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?” Jake stiffened. “What does he want you to do?”
Nathan sighed. “They want me to carry an extra suitcase back from New York.”
“Are you crazy?”
Jake’s gut was churning now at the sudden realisation of where this was leading. He didn’t have to ask what would be in the suitcase; he thought he knew.
“Keep your voice down,” said Nathan hastily. “For God’s sake, Jake, do you want to see me in jail?”
Jake’s jaw clenched. “Maybe I don’t care,” he said. “If you’re even considering smuggling drugs, maybe that’s where you belong.”
“You sanctimonious bastard!”
Nathan glared at him furiously, and feeling in need of some fresh air, Jake got abruptly to his feet. “Thanks for the character reference,” he said. “But I’m not the one who’s screwed up my life.” He was tempted to shove one of the empty beer bottles down his brother’s throat. “Get real, Nate. You’re in deep trouble. And you can’t blame anyone but yourself.”
“I know that.” As if realising he had spoken recklessly, Nathan got unsteadily to his feet. “Jake—” he caught his twin’s arm “—I’m sorry. But you’ve got to help me. I’m desperate. If you don’t, I’m afraid of what they’ll do to Cat.”
Jake jerked his arm out of Nathan’s grasp, but he didn’t move away. Even though all his instincts were urging him to get out of there, some innate sense of loyalty kept him where he was. Maybe it was the memory of that picture of Caitlin that caused him to hesitate. The realisation that whoever she was, whatever she was like, she didn’t deserve to suffer because of Nathan’s selfishness. Whatever his motivation, he felt himself weakening—ignoring his own misgivings, trying to justify his restraint.
“Go to the cops,” he said as Nathan slumped over the table, and his brother gave him a strangled look.
“You’re not serious! Carl would kill me.”
Nathan’s face was streaming with sweat, and with a sinking feeling, Jake sat down again. “Even if I wanted to help you,” he said, and as he spoke, he knew it was definitely the wrong thing to say, “there’s nothing I could do—”
“There is, there is.” Nathan didn’t wait for him to finish before breaking in. His eyes blazed now with a frantic light. He grasped his brother’s hand. “You could do it. You could go to England on my return ticket. You could use my passport. No one would know you weren’t me!”
Jake pulled his hand away and pressed himself back in his seat. He stared at Nathan as if he’d never