Sunsets & Seduction. Tawny Weber

it would take a lot more than aromatherapy to make her feel better.

      But it was a beginning.

       3

       5:00 p.m.

      JONAS FOCUSED AS he ran his fingers along the edge of the window frame where he used duct tape to attach plastic sheeting to the edge. His entire right side was soaked from the rain coming in while he worked, and the wind kept pushing the plastic around, but he managed, proving to himself that he wasn’t entirely useless.

      A few minutes after they had gotten back to their offices, Garrett went to help a friend whose house was having some serious flooding in her basement.

      Jonas smiled to himself. Melissa, the friend in question, was a particularly pretty friend who had been making no bones about her interest in Garrett. Jonas wondered how serious the flooding problem was, or if Garrett was going to have a little fun during the storm.

      Good for him, if so. His brother deserved some of that particular variety of fun.

      Ever the responsible one, Garrett had insisted Jonas come along with him, but Jonas had made a point of wanting to stay at the office, telling Garrett to go. He said he wanted to listen to some of the most recent recordings of case files, and that he would call a taxi to get home. Garrett seemed happy about Jonas’s apparent interest in work, and had grudgingly agreed but said he would keep his cell phone on.

      Jonas didn’t plan to interrupt him.

      Jonas also wasn’t exactly alone in the big old Victorian in West Philly that housed their offices, as well as a few other businesses, along with one apartment on the top floor. He’d heard sounds on the other side of the wall and assumed the insurance office that resided there was open if he needed anyone. He also had Irish to keep him company, though the big old tomcat who had adopted them the year before wasn’t being much help. Irish was about six, they figured, and had some nicks and scars from his battles before he’d found his home. In that respect, he fit perfectly with the Berringers, who all had their own set of scars and histories.

      Jonas knew Irish was really a lover more than a fighter, though. The big male cat had been caught soothing a sick kitten that lived next door, and wooing the pretty calico upstairs.

      Right now, Jonas glanced down when he heard the cat’s inquiring noise.

      “I’m fine, Irish. Just getting this window taped up, bud.”

      As Jonas sat reviewing cases, a window at the back busted when a small branch had broken off a tree and fell through it.

      Right now, Jonas was struggling to adjust the plastic sheeting to keep the rain out. He had asked Rhonda, the insurance company’s secretary, for help finding tape and plastic down in the basement all three businesses shared. She’d been on her way out, but offered to help, in the neighborly spirit of most Philadelphians.

      Jonas had heard her saying something about “the kids being all right” on the phone when he had walked into the office, and told her to go, he was fine. Which he was. Mostly.

      He’d cut himself once, a minor injury, and had a few bruises from getting up and down on a chair to reach the top of the window, but he’d gotten the job done. He took an odd amount of satisfaction from that fact. It was good to do something, to be competent in spite of his blindness.

      When his phone rang, he frowned. He hated not being able to see the caller ID for who was calling, but just answered, since it was his personal line.

      “Jonas.”

      “Jonas, I was hoping you’d be there,” Senator Rose’s voice boomed across the line.

      For the second time that day, Jonas was surprised by one of the Rose family. Not in a good way. He hadn’t talked to the senator since his accident, and had no idea why he’d be calling now.

      “Hello, sir. Are you back in the U.S.?” he asked, trying to sound neutral. The guy had a lot of nerve, threatening Jonas’s family business, and then calling out of the blue, sounding as if nothing was wrong.

      “No, no. In Italy, now, but I’m heading home early and I’ll be back tomorrow. Has your sight returned yet?”

      Jonas paused, wondering at the question. The senator was calling to check on his health? This was getting stranger by the second.

      “No, not yet I’m afraid.”

      “Sorry to hear that. I need your help with something, Jon,” he said.

      Jonas experienced a surge of excitement—had the senator decided to forgive and forget?

      “I don’t know how much help I can be with anything right now, sir. But I can refer one of my brothers—”

      “It has to be you. I need you to keep an eye on Tessa for me until I get back.”

      Jonas paused, quite sure he hadn’t heard right.

      “I’m sorry?”

      “Tessa. There’s a problem in my office. I can’t say what it is yet. It doesn’t have anything to do with Tessa directly, but I’d feel better knowing she wasn’t alone for a day or so. Oh, and this needs to stay between us.”

      “You don’t want her knowing she’s under protection?” He’d done undercover guard duty before, but this time he wasn’t sure that would work, or that he even wanted to do it.

      “That would be best. You know how she hates my interference in her life. It’s only until I get back. Then things will be straightened out.”

      “Sir, not to put too fine a point on it, but I’m blind. I can’t see how—”

      “Jonas, it’s true I was less than happy to find out that you were messing around with my daughter. It could have cost both of you your lives,” Rose said. “I know she can be a handful, and she likes nothing more than to take a shot at her old man now and then. But you two fooling around plays in our favor now. If anyone has a chance of staying close to her and not raising her suspicions, it’s you. Blind or not, you’re probably twice as effective as anyone else. Just don’t let her get to you this time.”

      In other words, keep it in your pants, son. Jonas heard the clear subtext.

      “But, sir—”

      “I need you to do this for me. Don’t let me down, Jon.”

      The line went dead.

      Muttering a string of curses, Jonas shook his head at the strange call. Tessa was not exactly his biggest fan right now. How could he insert himself into her life without her being suspicious after he’d thrown her out that morning?

      The sound of something crashing outside the window made him spin back, and he teetered, falling to the floor, his foot still caught in the chair. The wind knocked out of him, Jonas lay there for a moment, getting his bearings. He grunted as Irish landed on his chest and began licking his face, obviously concerned for him.

      Standing, he winced at the twinge in his ankle. Great. Just what he needed.

      He made his way to the bathroom and rifled through everything seeking the first-aid kit he knew was there, and found the package of Ace bandages he sought, stripping his sock and shoe off. He could feel some minor swelling, but it wasn’t bad.

      Trying, unsuccessfully, to wrap his ankle, he gave up and sought out the familiar feel of the jar of painkillers they kept on hand in the cabinet. It was barely a sprain, more of a twist, and probably didn’t even need wrapping, anyway.

      However, it was clear he wasn’t up to doing chores around the office, and he reached for his phone to call for a taxi so he could get home.

      And then he paused, thinking about the call from James.

      Like it or not—and he didn’t—the request to babysit the boss’s daughter for the next few days was his second chance, his way to make amends for his screwup the first time. If nothing else,