Susan Mallery - Tempting Faith

“Where’s Ken?” she asked, turning back toward the kids.

Beth, a petite brunette with gold-rimmed glasses, stared at her feet. “Putting the kittens back in their cages.”

Faith held on to her temper. “Why did you let in the reporters?”

“We left the gate open for you,” Rob answered. “They just kind of showed up.”

“You didn’t ask them to leave?”

Rob shook his head. “Ken said—”

Faith held up her hand. “I’ll deal with Ken in a minute. Why didn’t you ask them to leave? Either of you?”

Guilt was written all over their young faces. Faith hired college students because they had enthusiasm and dedication, plus she preferred part-time help. The only problem was sometimes they weren’t as mature as she would have liked.

Beth stared at her shoes. “He was so nice, and it seemed so exciting that I didn’t think about how you said you didn’t want any publicity about the kittens until it was too late.”

“You just thought he was totally cool,” Rob said, rolling his eyes in disgust. “Some good-looking older man says a few nice words and you melt like butter.”

“That’s not true.” Beth flushed with anger. She stood a good eight inches shorter than Rob’s six feet, but that didn’t intimidate her. “I didn’t see you ordering him off the property. In fact, you were real interested in the sound equipment and asked the guy a lot of questions.”

“That’s better than swooning. You won’t see me on the six o’clock news.”

“Stop!” Faith held up one hand. “You know the rules.”

Beth nodded. “You’re right, Faith. I apologize. I should have thought about what would happen. I know the kittens are important to you and the facility. I wouldn’t purposely do something to hurt either.”

“Me, too,” Rob mumbled, nudging Beth on the arm when she turned and glared at him.

Faith fought back a smile. Eloquent to the last, that boy, she thought. These kids were basically well-meaning. They’d been caught up in the excitement of the moment. She didn’t like it, but she understood how it happened.

“I accept your apologies,” she said. She heard footsteps behind her, but didn’t turn around.

“What’s going on? Beth, why are they leaving so soon? I wanted to show them— Oh God, Faith. You’re back.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation, Ken,” she said coldly, still not turning around. “Make it a good one.”

“Gee, Faith. I’m sorry. This isn’t what it looks like.”

Her grip on the rifle tightened. She tapped her booted toe against the asphalt. A couple of deep breaths didn’t help, either. “What the hell were you thinking?” she said as she spun to face the young man. Her voice rose in volume. “Reporters? Reporters?”

Rob and Beth slunk away, leaving Ken alone. The young man stood over six feet tall. With broad shoulders, long brown hair and a scraggely beard that hadn’t completely filled in, he looked more like a teenager than a college senior. At her words, his bravado faded. He slumped visibly and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“It wasn’t like that,” he mumbled.

“It wasn’t like that?” she said loudly, then forced herself to lower her voice. “We have a few rules here. They are for your safety and for that of the cats. Rule number one is no reporters without my say-so. Ken, you know where those kittens came from. The last thing we need is word getting around about their whereabouts.”

“I’m sorry.” Brown eyes pleaded for understanding.

She gripped the unloaded rifle in both hands and tossed it at him. He caught it. “’Sorry’ doesn’t cut it,” she said, pacing in front of him on the asphalt. “I should bust your butt back to the dorm and never let you on this mountain again.”

“It was an accident.” He shuffled his feet.

“How do you figure? The reporter said the wire service had the story and…” Realization dawned, and she was grateful she wasn’t holding the rifle anymore. “It’s that girl! You let her take pictures.”

For weeks Ken had talked about nothing but Nancy. Nancy the beautiful. Nancy the brave. Nancy the journalism major. He’d asked Faith if she could come and take pictures of the cats for an assignment for one of her classes. Maybe do a story to drum up publicity. Faith had refused.

“Just a few,” Ken admitted. He looked up at her. Regret pulled his mouth straight. “She took them to the local paper, and they got picked up by the wire service. That’s what brought the reporter out. I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Am I fired?” He sounded like a ten-year-old.

She jammed her hands in her pockets. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “You’ve worked here two years, and you’ve done a good job. But in the last few months you’ve come in late, you’ve skipped work without calling, now this.” She pinned him with her best glare. “You’re thinking with the wrong part of your anatomy. All the trouble you’re having is because of that girl. Get that under control and you can work here. If not, you’re out. Consider this a final warning. One more screwup and you’re fired.”

“Faith, I’m sorry.”

“Put the rifle away, then get out of here. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the week.”

“I understand.”

“Did you at least remember to feed the cats?”

“Yeah. An hour ago.”

“Fine.” Faith waved her hand in the direction of the supply building. “Get going.”

The young man walked off, his body slumped forward, his steps slow and shuffling. He was the picture of misery. Part of her regretted the harshness of their conversation. Still, the lecture had been necessary, and he deserved it.

“Don’t you think you were a little hard on him?” Cort straightened from where he’d been leaning against the truck. Using his crutches to support his bad leg, he stepped toward her.

“No.” She flushed, realizing she must have sounded like a fishwife. “I have rules—”

“They’re just kids.”

“They work for me. I expect them to do their job.”

He stared down at her, his brown eyes gleaming with amusement. Obviously she’d really impressed him, she thought, her temper starting to get the best of her.

“What I don’t understand,” Cort said, “is what that reporter wanted. All the way up here from L.A. to get pictures of a few kittens.” He shook his head. “Slow news day.”

If he didn’t know about the cats, he sure didn’t know about the kittens. Part of her wanted to slap him upside the head until his ears rang. The other part of her wanted him to find out the truth for himself.

“I like the way you handled the reporter, though,” he said, looking around the compound. “He won’t be back. Still, you have some major security problems. I’ll have a look around and see what I can do.”

“Good, because we’re going to be on the six o’clock news tonight.”

He took a step toward the building. “So? What’s the worst that will happen? There’ll be a cat show here this weekend? At least you’ve got the parking for it.” He jerked his head at the space behind her truck.

His condescending attitude was the final straw. Her hold on her temper snapped. “You think you’re so hot, Mr. Spy? I’m just some crazy cat lady, right? A friend of Jeff’s, so you’re going to humor me? Fine.” She pointed to the main building. “Go right through there. Pet any kitty you like.”

Cort stared at her. She was so ticked off, he could practically see steam coming out of her ears. She sure was hung up on this cat thing. He’d better give her a chance to cool off.

Awkwardly moving forward, he went through the open door of the building. Once in the dark hallway, he could smell something musty. He inhaled sharply. An animal scent. Not unpleasant. Not Kitty Litter either. He heard odd snuffling noises and a low cough. He walked out the other side of the building onto smooth dirt. The sounds increased. There were a few grunts followed by a muffled roar. A muffled roar? He started to get the feeling things weren’t as they seemed. His crutches sank slightly into the ground. He adjusted his weight and turned to his left.