Taken Beyond Temptation

Tricky question, Jillian thought. Miss Emmy Lou looked to be in her sixties.

“Not a bit,” Molly said. “It’s a classic style—a shirt-dress—ageless. My grandmother use to wear a shirtdress to church on Sundays and she had a couple of decades on you.”

Miss Emmy Lou laughed. “Your grandmother was four years ahead of me all through elementary school.”

Molly placed the flat of her hand against the side of her head. “Right. I must have been thinking about my great-grandmother.”

Miss Emmy Lou turned to face her. “You were thinking of making a sale. Your grandmother would be proud of you.”

Molly cocked her head to one side. “Sale aside, the dress suits you.”

Miss Emmy Lou flicked a glance in the mirror. “Yes, I think it does. But the shoes …?”

“Fisherman’s sandals—another ageless style.” It was just then that Molly caught sight of Jillian and said, “Jillian, come over here and offer my customer an objective opinion.”

Jillian smiled at her friend and found herself enveloped in a quick, warm hug, before they turned to face Miss Emmy Lou.

Molly made the introduction. “Miss Emmy Lou runs our local library around the corner on Whipple Street.”

The older woman held out her hand. “And you must be one of the sisters who’ve breathed some new life into this little village. I read your interview in the Belle Island Weekly Examiner a few weeks ago. Glad to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Jillian found the older woman’s handshake firm and her smile genuine.

“I also heard you bought the Kellys’ bookstore so they could finally retire. They’ve been talking about doing it for the last ten years.”

“I did. In fact, I closed on it today.” She lifted her hand, opened it. “I have the key right here and I was hoping to persuade Molly to take a half hour off and let me give her a tour.”

Miss Emmy Lou glanced around the shop. “I seem to be the only customer, so let’s see if we can hurry this along.” There was a twinkle in her eyes as she met Jillian’s. “What’s your verdict on this outfit?”

“I’d take the dress and the shoes. Molly has a knack for putting things together,” Jillian said.

“My childhood dream was to dress the stars for the red carpet,” Molly told them.

Emmy Lou laughed. “Red carpet, eh? Well, that just might make my day. I’ll take both.”

“It’ll just take me a minute to wrap them up.”

“No need. If it’s such a classic and suits me so well, I’m going to wear it out of the store. You can just pack up what I wore in.”

As Molly hurried to do that, Jillian turned to Emmy Lou. “Would you like to come with us?”

“Love to. We librarians are born nosey. I hear you’ve done a snap-bang job up at Haworth House, and I’d love to know what you have in mind for the bookstore.”

“I’m going to change it into an antiques shop,” Jillian explained. “Haworth House has been a real showcase for me. Many of the guests have commissioned me to find similar pieces for them. So I thought it might be the right time to open my own retail store.”

As the three women left Discoveries, Molly said, “I didn’t expect you until next week.”

“I got a call from a Colonel Jenkins who wants to meet with me tomorrow at Haworth House. He and his son are opening a string of hotels and they’re interested in seeing what I’ve done. If he hires me as a consultant, it would be an amazing opportunity for me.”

“Colonel Jenkins,” Miss Emmy Lou said. “That wouldn’t be Colonel Sam Jenkins, would it?”

“Yes,” Jillian replied. “Have you heard of him?”

“If he’s the one I’m thinking of, he was born here on Belle Island. He’s Samuel Jenkins the second, I believe. His father died tragically here when little Sam was only about four years old. The family sold everything and moved away from the island then.”

“I’ll have to ask him about it tomorrow.” Jillian stopped in front of the bookstore and took out the key.

Her hand trembled slightly when she inserted it into the lock. The door creaked as it opened and she led the way in.

Dust motes danced in the rays of sunlight that streamed through the windows. The store was just as she’d remembered it—except that the furniture was gone and the bookshelves lining the walls were empty. “The Kellys told me this was originally someone’s home. And as soon as I pictured it that way in my mind, I knew this was the place for me. They kept the rooms intact. This must have been the front parlor. I’ll take some of the bookshelves down, but basically, I’m going to keep the house the same and furnish it with product.”

“Great idea,” Molly murmured. “It will be like turning the house into what it once was.”

Jillian drew them into the second room. “This must have been the original dining room. I figure I can furnish it that way at times or as a library, or even as a bedroom depending on what I have on hand.”

“The house dates back before my time,” Miss Emmy Lou commented. “Even when I was a little girl, this was a commercial store. I can do some research at the library.”

“That would be great.” Jillian opened the door to the kitchen, where she knew that the Kellys had offered tea or hot spiced cider to their customers. But she stopped short on the threshold. The room was in shambles—something, likely a sledgehammer, had been used to put huge dents in the cupboards and red paint had been tossed on three of the walls. On the other a clear message had been painted.

Get out while you still can.

HE’D BEEN RIGHT ABOUT one thing. Jillian Brightman moved fast. So fast that when she shot out of the old bookstore, Ian didn’t have time to avoid the collision. The impact was hard enough to send his cup of coffee flying and had him stumbling back a pace. At least he managed to grip her shoulders and steady both of them before they took a major pratfall.

She looked up at him, met his eyes. “You again.”

For a moment every thought drained out of his head. All he knew was that they were close—so close that he could feel her breath on his lips. And hers were moist, parted and barely an inch away. One taste.

She stepped back, and that sudden movement brought the rest of the world into focus for Ian. When he saw the raw fury in her eyes, he tightened his hands on her shoulders. “You all right?”

“Yes.” She drew in a deep breath and pulled free of him. “No.” Raising an arm, she pointed through the door of the store. “Someone just vandalized one of the rooms in my new store. I have to … I have to go.”

Dragging his gaze away from Jillian, he searched the faces of the two other women he’d seen enter the store with her. Both of them looked frightened and concerned. But they were giving him the once-over. He bet they’d be able to pick him out of a lineup.

Inwardly, he sighed. He was definitely going to have to get better at keeping a low profile. It was the second time today he’d been on a collision course with a woman who wasn’t supposed to know he was even here on the island.

And it was the second time in as many hours that he’d very nearly kissed her—this time on a public street in front of witnesses. Once again, she’d made him lose track of anything else but her. He definitely needed to work on his undercover skills.

The small brunette had a cell phone pressed to her ear. After pocketing it, she took Jillian’s arm. “I contacted Nate. He’s waiting for us at his office.” She held out a hand. “Give me the key.”

Jillian fished it out of her pocket and the brunette locked the front door of the store and passed it back.

“Nate will want to see the damage for himself, but we’ll go up to his office first and file a report.”

As the brunette led Jillian away, Ian found himself stifling an urge to go after her. She was going to the right place. He knew from the research he’d done for his brother that Nate Kirby was the current sheriff of Belle Island, following in his father’s and grandfather’s footsteps. Dane had found the local lawman quite capable.

“You know Ms. Brightman?”

Ian jerked his gaze away from Jillian’s retreating back and found himself looking into a pair of intelligent brown eyes that were laced with worry.