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  "Ah, now, Mr. Lewis, that would be telling." Senegal swirled his brandy and sent a look toward Tony. "Let's just say that Mrs. DeBlanc makes good investments."

  The sick dread churned again in Seth's gut. "Such as?"

  Arsenault clapped Seth on the shoulder. "He asks a lot of questions, eh, Jerome?"

  Senegal nodded, inspecting the tip of his cigar. "Questions can be good. Or bad. Mrs. DeBlanc is a very wealthy woman, Mr. Lewis, with a large and varied portfolio. For instance, she owns Cajun Perk."

  "Cajun Perk? The whole chain?" Seth almost choked on his brandy. His stomach churned. His princess owned the coffee houses that were the distribution centers for Category Five?

  "That's right, cher." Arsenault chuckled. "She's the sole owner. You could say she has invested everything in the coffeehouses."

  Seth didn't miss the warning glance Senegal shot at Arsenault.

  "But that should not impress you, eh?" Arsenault continued quickly. "I understand you're rolling in the dough."

  Seth inclined his head while his brain whirled. As the other men talked and smoked, Seth absorbed the information Arsenault had given him.

  The brandy burned in his stomach as he fought the urge to hurl his glass across the room in angry denial. He breathed deeply and slowly, forcing himself to think logically, not emotionally.

  Maybe Burke's instinct was correct. Maybe Adri-enne DeBlanc was involved in dealing drugs. What they were saying matched Seth's first impression of her. Rich and spoiled and up to her neck in the corrupt activities of the Cajun mob. The cold glare of the skinny-hipped socialite—Senegal's wife—rose in his mind.

  No. The woman he knew was nothing like that. His princess could not be a willing participant in their drug scheme. He unclenched his fist from around the brandy snifter as Senegal stood.

  Every fiber of his being wanted to grab Arsenault and strong-arm him into admitting he was lying about Adri-enne's involvement with Cajun Perk. But in his gut, Seth knew it was the truth. Business ownership was too easy to check. One call to Jones and he could have the answer in minutes. If Adrienne was the sole owner of Cajun Perk, it would be public knowledge. The realization, coupled with the cloying smell of cigars and brandy, made him nauseous.

  Forcing himself to breathe normally, and realizing he was about to have to shake Senegal's hand, he stretched his right arm as he took a last sip of brandy. As the other men rose, he stuck the bug between the cushion and the frame of Arsenault's chair.

  Seth turned away, feeling apprehension like drops of sweat on the back of his neck. All the other men had left, but Tony stood at the door. When Seth exited, Tony closed the door behind him. Seth ducked into the bathroom and threw the lock. He pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed Jones.

  "The bug's planted."

  "Good. The guys are in place."

  "I need you to do something for me. Check out a connection between Adrienne DeBlanc and Cajun Perk."

  "Your sweetie and Cajun Perk? So she is involved. Burke'll be glad to hear that."

  Seth ignored Jones's dig. "Just check it out. I'll call you later."

  Someone knocked on the door. "Just a minute," Seth called, then he quickly flushed the toilet and washed his hands.

  He exited the bathroom and went looking for Adrienne, a new determination soaking through to his bones like the damp chill of a New Orleans winter. He had to separate his emotions from his job. As attracted as he was to Adrienne, he couldn't get involved. She could very well be the enemy.

  Tony "The Knife" Arsenault looked at the little blond icicle who'd been his friend Marc's wife. She was a frigid bitch, and he would be happy to see her take the fall for the drugs. Nothing would please Marc more than to look down from Heaven, or up from Hell, and see his wife in prison.

  As Adrienne's eyes searched the room, Tony smiled. She was looking for her boyfriend. Well, Tony had a surprise for her. He savored the anticipation of telling her what he knew, just like he always savored the anticipation of a hit. It was like foreplay, leading up to the climax and the resulting afterglow of adrenaline when it was over. Tony's right hand twitched and he flexed his fingers. The absence of his machete ached like an amputated limb. He was not whole without it.

  Still, the blow he was about to give the lovely widow would be almost as satisfying as the slick, meaty feel of a body under his blade.

  "Adrienne," Tony said sweetly. "How is your mother?"

  God, he loved doing that. He loved seeing the fear darken those blue eyes, loved to see the color leave her cheeks and the tension bunch her shoulders.

  "Why do you do this to me?" she asked in a whisper. "I'm cooperating. I do everything you tell me to. Leave my mother alone."

  "I just ask after her health. That is all. I have to say I'm worried about you, too. You're pale. You should be more careful. Your mother depends on you."

  Adrienne's haunted eyes pleaded with him. "What do you want this time?" she asked flatly.

  "Jerome wants you to do un petit favor for him."

  She stood stiffly, like a queen awaiting execution. She'd always been so damned haughty. He shook his head. She acted like a thousand-dollar-a-night hooker. As if she thought she was too good for the likes of him.

  "Jerome would like for you to find out about Seth Lewis."

  Her eyes went wide with surprise. "Seth? What about him?"

  "Jerome does not trust him. He is too interested in you, and in Jerome. He wants to know what Lewis's angle is."

  She lifted her nose. "I don't think Seth is interested in Jerome."

  Tony took her arm, as if in an affectionate gesture, but he squeezed until he saw the shadow of pain cross her face. "Jerome thinks he is. And Jerome has a personal interest in him."

  "Let go of me."

  "When I am sure you understand. Jerome wants to know where Lewis came from. Who his family is."

  "His family? Why?"

  "You don't need to know why." He squeezed her arm. "Find out why he showed up now."

  "You know why. He's involved with Crescent City Transports."

  "Just do it."

  Adnenne's face drained of color. "What do you want me to do?"

  "Whatever it takes." He leered at her and licked his lips at the look of disgust she sent him.

  "You expect me to—"

  "Chère, you already are. You think I'm stupid, eh? All you got to do is find out what he wants."

  "Let go of my arm or I'll scream."

  Tony squeezed one more time, then let go.

  Adrienne massaged her upper arm. "I don't know what you think I can find out."

  "There is something fishy going on. And Jerome thinks your boyfriend is a part of it. Someone is fooling with the business. Things happen which should not."

  "I don't follow," Adrienne insisted.

  "Things are known which should not be known. Now, suddenly you got a boyfriend who's a big shot with Crescent City Transports. Jerome don't like his name, and he don't like him. Find out who he really is. Screw it out of him." Tony laughed. "Of course, you better thaw out or you'll give him frostbite."

  Seth noticed that Adrienne was quieter than usual on the way home from the engagement party. He felt the tension radiating from her like heat from sunburned skin.

  He was feeling his own tension. Jones's words wouldn't let go of him. So she is involved. Seth shook his head. He couldn't believe it. His princess, knowingly participating in drug dealing? In the deaths of wealthy older businessmen? He'd only known her a few days, but his instincts told him it didn't add up. Was he so naive that his attraction to her was clouding his judgment?

  The fact that she was the sole owner of the Cajun Perk coffeehouses bothered him. For all he knew, it was a business investment she knew nothing about. Maybe it had been her husband's investment, or she was being set up to take the fall if anyone ever connected the coffeehouses to the drug dealing. Seth had to find out how much Adrienne really knew about the day-today operations of Cajun Perk.

  He glanced
over at her as he parked in front of her house. She met his gaze and forced a smile. "Would you—?" Her voice sounded choked. "Would you like to come in?" she said stiffly.

  "How can I resist such an enthusiastic invitation?"

  She closed her eyes for an instant, then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Seth. I'm kind of tired, and I need to be up early tomorrow. 1 need to check on my mother."

  There was that guarded, cautious tone she used when talking about her mother. He frowned. "Is she worse?"

  She rubbed her neck. Seth was beginning to recognize the gesture. Her neck muscles tightened up whenever she was tense, whenever she lied, whenever his questions probed too deeply. He reached across and slipped his hand under her hair, massaging her nape gently and firmly.

  "No," she said, sighing. She arched against the tender pressure of his hand. "I just like to visit every few days. To make sure she's all right."

  "You've said that before. But you also said she's getting the finest care." Seth pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "You worry too much."

  "You don't understand."

  He touched her cheek. "I understand more than you realize. It's starting to rain. Let's go inside."

  Inclining her head toward his palm, she nodded.

  In the kitchen, Adrienne handed Seth a bottle of water and took one for herself.

  "You're tense, princess. Let's go upstairs and I'll relax you." He kept his voice light, but he didn't like how she looked. She appeared defeated, beaten down. The sleek royal blue dress with its pencil-thin skirt and the fine embroidery across the bodice made her look elegant but frail, and highlighted the paleness of her skin.

  He took her in his arms. "Is all this about your mother?" he whispered in her ear.

  She sighed and yielded, relaxing against him, lifting her head so he could kiss her neck and jaw. "I'm very worried about her. She's so—vulnerable."

  Seth's desire stirred as he felt the supple yielding of Adrienne's body. Drowning in her delicate scent of gardenias, he struggled to hold on to rational thought. Vulnerable was an odd word to use.

  "Vulnerable? What do you mean?" he asked as he trailed kisses along the curve of her neck.

  Adrienne stiffened. "She's partially paralyzed and unable to speak from a stroke. She can barely feed herself. She depends on me."

  Her words echoed the anxiety Seth had seen etched in her face. He straightened and cupped her face. "You're doing everything you can, right? St. Cecilia's is the best."

  "Oh sure. St. Cecilia's is the best. I'm spending piles of money on the best home, private duty nurses, the best of everything. But she's alone and helpless. And I can't—" She stopped.

  "Can't what? Why don't you bring her home? Hire nurses around the clock to care for her? You can afford it."

  Adrienne laughed shortly and flung off his touch. Anger flared in her eyes. "Money. Why does everyone think money will solve any problem? Money is nothing but a cage."

  Her reaction surprised him. If she was telling the truth, she hated money as much as he did.

  In his opinion, it was a curse, an addiction. People who had money seemed to never have enough of it. His jaw tightened.

  "There are things that money can't buy," Adrienne continued. "Things like safety, like freedom."

  Safety? Freedom? Were they still talking about her mother? Were Adrienne and her mother being threatened by the mob?

  "Is there some reason you don't think your mother is safe at St. Cecilia's?"

  Adrienne clamped her mouth shut. She was saying too much. It was obvious from the concern in Seth's face. Concern about her.

  She longed to confide in him, to bask in his warm protective embrace and forget the life she was forced to lead. She'd give up every last penny if it meant being able to live a normal life with someone who truly loved her.

  But she had an assignment, and she could never forget that Seth could be the enemy. Leave it to the mob to defile even her love life, she thought bitterly.

  He took her hand and kissed the palm. "Princess? Are you afraid of something?"

  Adrienne shook her head and touched his lips with her fingers. "I don't want to talk about this any more."

  Seth opened his mouth and sucked lightly on her fingers. "Then we won't talk." He licked her fingertips.

  His suggestive action sent a thrill of awareness through her, weakening her knees and turning her in-sides soft and liquid.

  She couldn't make herself believe he was using her. She knew he desired her, knew he liked her. Maybe if he cared enough, he could help her and her mother escape from the mob's vicious clutches.

  She would do what Tony asked—she'd find out what Seth's angle was. But she wouldn't be doing it for Tony or for Jerome. She'd be doing it for herself. She had to know if Seth was worthy of her trust. Not even orders from the mob could cool her attraction for this handsome, enigmatic man who seemed to really care about her. She craved his touch, missed him every minute he was gone, yearned to confide in him and have him confide in her. But she couldn't tell him everything yet.

  He trailed kisses along her wrist, up her forearm to her shoulder, and now he was nuzzling her neck and sliding his fingers through her hair.

  She turned her head. Their mouths met. Flaming desire flowed through her, and his quiet groan told her he was affected in the same way.

  "Are you still too tired?" he whispered, his evening stubble scratching her cheek.

  "I'm feeling better," she responded, realizing that she really was. His lovemaking revitalized her, and the weariness she felt afterward was a good, relaxing weariness, not the tense aching exhaustion that usually cloaked her like a fog.

  She ran her hands up the front of his shirt and pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders.

  "We can turn off the lights," she murmured, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing his bare chest.

  Adrienne's lips and tongue trailed across Seth's chest and stopped at bis nipple. A streak of fire burned through him as she gently grazed it with her teeth. His erection throbbed against the confines of his pants. Damn, she was sexy.

  Still, even half-crazed with lust, he couldn't shake his concern about her. She'd sidestepped his question about her mother. He made himself a silent promise. He would do everything in his power to protect her and her mother from the mob.

  He let his jacket drop to the floor and reached for the zipper on the back of her dress. "Or we could leave the lights on this time," he panted, pulling on her tight skirt, sliding his hands underneath and up her thighs.

  Suddenly, the memory of his father doing the same thing in Jerome Senegal's kitchen slammed him, as shocking and sharp as a bucket of cold water in the face.

  "No." He stopped. He was not like his father. And Adrienne was not like Senegal's skinny, adulterous wife. His princess was worth more than a quick bang in the kitchen. He framed her face with his palms and kissed her forehead gently.

  She was worth so much more.

  Adrienne stared up at him, her blue eyes dark with stirred passion. "Seth? What's the matter?"

  He shook his head. "Let's go upstairs."

  "Whatever you say," she said.

  Leaving his jacket on the floor, he took her hand and brought it to his lips, and led her up the stairs to her bedroom. He lifted her in his arms and kissed her, cherishing her like the precious treasure she was, then laid her tenderly on the bed.

  He shed his clothes and stretched out beside her, pulling her on top of him. Under her dress were tiny delicate royal blue panties and bra, but he hardly noticed them. His gaze fastened on a different shade of blue. Dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises marring the pale perfection of her upper arm.

  He sat up, cradling her on his lap, anger momentarily quenching his desire. "What the hell is this?" he growled, touching her fragile damaged skin.

  Her hand moved to cover the bruises but he stopped it. Gently, slowly, he wrapped his hand around her arm, fitting his fingers over the blue marks, remembering the grimace that had crossed her fac
e when Tony took her arm at the engagement party.

  "Arsenault did this, didn't he?"

  Adrienne wouldn't meet his gaze.

  He put a finger under her chin and urged her head up until he could see into her eyes. "Didn't he?"

  "He was telling me something. He probably didn't know—"

  "That's bull. He knew. What did he say to you?"

  She shook her head. "He—it was just something about the party. I know he didn't mean to squeeze so hard."

  Fury burned through Seth like a brushfire. She was lying, obviously too afraid to tell him the truth. Arse-nault, that bastard, had hurt her, and no matter what the outcome of Confidential's investigation, there was one thing Seth would personally handle. Arsenault would pay for hurting Adrienne.

  "Seth?"

  He realized he was staring at her arm. "I will make sure nothing like this ever happens to you again. You can trust me on that."

  Her eyes sparkled with tears. "I do." She reached out and ran her hand across his muscled wrist, up his forearm, over his bicep to his neck, where she slid her fingers into his hair and pulled his head down.

  "Now didn't you promise to help me relax?" she whispered, kissing him slowly and thoroughly.

  Shaking off his anger, he smiled at her and lay back, lifting her on top of him again. He disposed of her little blue bra and panties quickly and cupped his hands around her perfect breasts.

  "I don't know how to do it this way," she whispered, her legs tight around him. Her hands grasped his wrists as her hair angelically fanned out over her shoulders.

  Seth groaned as his arousal hardened and throbbed against her inner thighs. "You just follow me," he growled. "I'll take care of everything."

  And he did.

  Adrienne had never thought she could be so abandoned, so willing. The gentleness and care with which Seth made love to her made her want to cry with joy.

  They'd made love a dozen times in the past few days, and it had been more erotic each time. She hadn't known sex could be like this. She wanted to stop time, to capture that moment right after he drove her to completion, that moment when her body, still throbbing with release, lay cradled in his arms. Capture it and stay in it forever.