Just One More Temptation (The Sterling Family Book 4)

Noah Powers frantically searched the New York City park for his twin nine-year-old girls, calling their names, ignoring the looks from the mothers with their younger children playing in the sandbox. He turned to Hazel, the sixty-year-old woman he’d hired when their last nanny had been too young and flighty to keep an eye on his girls. They’d been acting out lately but they’d never run away. Hadn’t he lectured them enough about stranger danger and staying with an adult?

“Dammit!” he yelled, pulling his hand through his hair.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Powers. I was watching them, I swear. They asked if they could go to the pretzel truck on the corner and I had an eye on them. I blinked and they disappeared.”

He ground his teeth together. “Because you didn’t go with them.”

She looked down, not answering since he was right.

“You stay here in case they come back.” He strode toward the cart and questioned the man selling food who said he’d sold them a pretzel and soda but didn’t see the direction they went after.

Panicked, Noah rushed down the sidewalk, scanning inside each shop and walking into the larger ones. Heart in his throat, he looked in each window, not seeing their brown-haired heads.

He swallowed hard and a horrific thought ran through his head. What if someone had taken them? No. They were just being difficult because they hadn’t liked Hazel from the moment he’d hired her. Then again, it was the same story with every nanny no matter their age. They missed their mother and there was nothing he could do to change the fact that Charlie, an archaeologist, had been invited on the dig of her dreams.

They’d shared custody until six months ago. For all their lives, she’d had the girls during the week and he’d taken them one night a weekday and every other weekend. Despite the explanation, they’d hoped their mom would be home by now but the dig was long. Even with Charlie coming home to see them often, it wasn’t the same as their mom being here. Noah was doing the best he could on his own but his kids were disappointed and too damn smart for their own good.

One thing he knew, when he found them, they’d be grounded for life. And he would find them. There was no acceptable alternative.

* * *

Fallon Sterling walked to the front of the paint and sip side of the art gallery where she worked, two glass cups of frothy cappuccino in hand. She passed the rectangular table she’d set up for tonight’s class, including the easels, paints, brushes, and other materials. Her best friend, Brooklyn Snyder, who she called Brooke for short, had stopped by to say hello and helped her arrange the items since Fallon’s usual assistant, Sylvie, was out with a bad cold.

Fallon handed her friend a cappuccino and gestured to two stools by the bar where they usually sold wine and snacks. “Let’s sit.”

They strode across the room and Fallon took the seat facing inside, a habit so she could look around and make sure she hadn’t missed anything that her students would need later.

“Let me run to the ladies’ room,” Brooke said, grabbing her purse. “Be right back.”

Fallon glanced around, her gaze landing on two of her modern, pop art paintings hanging on the walls. The feeling of pride swirling inside her never grew old. Even as a child, she’d loved to work with bright colors. In college, she’d dual majored in art history and fine arts, minoring in business at the Rhode Island School of Design.

Then she’d moved back to New York and worked first at a museum and for the last year and a half, here at the gallery. Her dream was to own a place like this one day but for now, she enjoyed her career and the opportunity to combine the painting she loved with helping the owner with the business.

Brooke returned and settled into the seat beside her. “So? When are you going to get your family in for a session?” She gestured to the easels.

“Do you really think any of my brothers would paint and sip?” Fallon asked, shaking her head, smiling at the thought. She took a taste of the hot froth and savored the cinnamon sprinkled on top, licking her lips to remove any remnants.

Brooke chuckled. “I guess you’re right but the image is amusing.” And she would know.

Of all Fallon’s friends, Brooke knew Fallon’s family best since she’d grown up in the gatehouse on the property Fallon’s father had purchased. Brooke’s mother had been their housekeeper and her father the groundskeeper before he’d passed away. These days, her mom, Lizzie, insisted on keeping her job but she was also seeing Fallon’s father and Fallon suspected things were serious between them.

“Only you got your mother’s talent,” Brooke mused.

As always happened at the mention of her mother, a lump rose in her throat, forcing Fallon to swallow over it. Gloria Sterling had been killed at home when Fallon was ten years old.

Pushing that thought away, she replied to Brooke’s comment. “I’m glad I inherited something meaningful from her.” Something more than a trust fund or jewelry, though Fallon was grateful for all of it.

Brooke put a hand over Fallon’s. “I’m sorry. I know that’s a pain that will never heal.”

“Like your dad is for you.” When they were younger, Fallon and Brooke had bonded over their similar losses.

Brooke nodded. “At least you know my mom’s keeping a close eye on your father after his heart attack.”

With a nod, Fallon said, “I’m so glad they’re dating or whatever they call it. Your mom is the best person I know, and I appreciate that she watches out for Dad, correcting his bad eating and work habits. If only he’d listen more.”

She and the rest of her siblings were worried their father wasn’t paying enough attention to the cardiologist’s orders to work less, take it easy, and change his dietary choices. Seeing him weak and in the hospital still haunted Fallon. She was a daddy’s girl and didn’t mind admitting it. To her, Alex Sterling was larger than life. He was also the only parent she had left and she couldn’t lose him. Having Lizzie around to look after him eased all their minds.

“Besides, they both deserve to be happy,” Brooke said.

“Agreed.” They clinked glasses and sipped their hot drinks.

Brooke tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are you going to see the new band at The Back Door this weekend?” she asked of the bar Fallon’s brother, Remy, co-owned with his friend, Zach Dare.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Remy and Zach had recently begun bringing in entertainment. It was loud inside the bar but the patrons loved it. “How about you?”

Brooke nodded. “Aiden said he’d try not to work too late and meet me there.” One of Fallon’s brothers was a foreign correspondent and traveled the world but when their father had his heart attack, he’d done his best to help Jared pick up the slack.

The entry chimes rang and before Fallon turned to see who it was, a young, female voice called out. “Mom!” She yelled the word in an excited, raised tone.

Fallon set her drink down and pivoted toward the door to find two young girls staring, disappointment etched in their identical expressions.

“Oh, no! You’re not our mom,” one said, her bottom lip quivering. Her brown hair was braided on either side of her head and hung past her shoulders.

The other had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Besides the different hairstyles, they looked exactly alike.

“Are you two lost?” Fallon asked, rising to her feet.

Beside her, Brooke did the same.

“From behind you look just like our mom,” the girl with the braids said, eyeing her with curiosity.

Fallon’s hand immediately went to her hair and she laughed. “Nope, I’m not anyone’s mother.”

The other twin nudged her sister with her elbow. “I told you it couldn’t be her. Mom’s in Egypt,” she said in a sulky voice.

Fallon exchanged worried glances with Brooke. “Girls, are you lost?” she asked again, stepping toward them.

They looked at each other, neither answering.

“Maybe we should call the police? Someone’s got to be worried about you,” Brooke said.

Nodding, Fallon pulled her phone from a deep pocket in her flowing skirt.

“No! We don’t trust the po-po!” the one with braids said, folding her arms across her chest.

It was all Fallon could do not to burst out laughing. “That sounds like a line in a Madea movie. Come on, girls. I’m serious. If your mom is in Egypt, where’s your dad?”

Wide-eyed, they stared at each other, obviously catching on that they were going to be in trouble. But neither replied.

“How old are you?” Fallon tried, wanting to guide them into revealing information.

“Nine,” they said at the same time.

Still young enough to need a babysitter in New York City.

“Do either of you know your dad’s phone number?” She stared them down until the one with the ponytail caved.

“Fine. It’s—”

“Hang on,” Fallon said, opening her phone and then the keypad. “Go ahead.”

She voiced the phone number as Fallon typed it in and hit send, but the call rang once and went to voicemail.

Suddenly, the door swung open and a frazzled, gorgeous man stepped inside. His dark hair was tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through the strands, sensual lips were pulled into a firm line, but there was no denying he was one good-looking specimen.

“Dakota, Dylan, I’ve been searching all over for you!” their father said in a stern voice but there was no mistaking the relief beneath. “You both have some explaining to do!”

“Uh-oh, we’re in tro-u-ble!” the twins said in a singsong voice.

“And you!” He turned to face Fallon. “Can I ask what you’re doing playing on the phone?” He gestured toward her hands that held her cell. “You have two little girls who don’t belong here and need your help and you’re doing, what? Checking out social media?”

All her warm, fuzzy feelings for the worried man disappeared. Treating him to her fakest smile, she said, “I suggest you check your phone before jumping to conclusions.”

He pulled his cell from his pocket and a red flush highlighted his nicely carved cheekbones as he obviously saw a missed call. “I apologize,” he muttered. “I didn’t hear it ring and since they don’t have phones, I didn’t think to check.”

“Apology accepted. I’m sure you were scared out of your mind.” She extended her hand. “I’m Fallon Sterling,” she said, deciding names were in order. “I work here. And this is my friend Brooke,” she said.

Brooke merely waved. She’d been quiet, watching this entire exchange with interest. No doubt they’d be talking about the sexy man later.

He slid his hand against hers and an electrical kick sizzled up her arm, the jolt of awareness taking her off guard. Good lord, it had been years since she’d experienced anything like that feeling. True, she’d appreciated other men’s good looks on sight but this one, with his buttoned shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exuded power, and Fallon was drawn to guys who were sure of themselves. Too bad that kind of man had caused her greatest humiliation and heartbreak. Besides, she thought, he had a wife, even if she was in Egypt.

“Noah Powers,” he said, his voice huskier than before. As if he were equally attracted to her.

Something she had to be imagining. Lord knew she’d done it before and learned the hard way she wasn’t good at reading people’s true intentions.

“I’m a partner at a law office up the street,” he said. “As for the girls, their nanny brought them to the park to hang out before she dropped them off with me for dinner and they pulled a disappearing act.”

“Because we don’t like her!”

“Dakota!” he snapped.

“Daddy, don’t be mad,” the twin she now figured out was Dylan, said. “We saw the lady from behind and she looked like Mommy.” She pointed to Fallon.

Once again, Fallon ran her hand over her hair.

“The girls mentioned your wife is in Egypt,” Fallon murmured.

“We’re not married but yes, their mother is there on an archaeological dig,” he said.

She refused to question why that admission made her so happy.

“Daddy, doesn’t she remind you of Mom?” one of the twins asked.

“Goddammit,” he muttered, rubbing his chest, and she wondered if he was having a bad case of ingestion thanks to his precocious children. “You two are going to give me a heart attack!”

“Daddy!” Dakota said in a chiding tone. “Please calm down. Stress can affect the body’s cardiovascular system and raise your blood pressure and that can cause a stroke.”

A strangled sound of held-back laughter caught Fallon’s attention. She didn’t look at Brooke because then she’d be laughing out loud and the girls didn’t need any sign of encouragement.

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Then please try to behave. And never run away again. I love you both too much to lose you.” The bite in his tone eased with his admission.

And Fallon’s heart melted, watching his expression soften as he looked at his girls.

“Dad, check out this painting!” Dylan said loudly, pointing to Fallon’s artwork. “I love it! Look at all the colors!”

“I love it too!” Dakota added.

Brooke chuckled. “That’s a Fallon Sterling original,” her friend said.

“You painted this?” Dylan asked.

Fallon nodded. “Modern pop art,” she said, aware of the enthusiasm she always exuded when she discussed her craft. “It’s always called to me in the works of Andy Warhol, Robert Rauschenberg, and Roy Lichtenstein. Art is my passion and I could get lost for hours painting or viewing other creators’ works.”

“Can we buy it? I bet it’d look so cool in our room,” Dakota exclaimed.

He shook the head she was sure was about to explode from their precociousness. “Do you two think I’m going to reward you for this stunt?”

Dakota dipped her head. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Dylan echoed.

They both appeared contrite, but something told Fallon these two would be plotting again at their first opportunity.

“Now apologize to Fallon,” Noah said in a stern voice.

Two sets of identical faces glanced at her. “We’re sorry, Fallon.”

“That’s okay,” she said, smiling at them.

He nodded, his gaze softening now that the girls had done as he’d asked. “Thanks for looking out for them. They won’t bother you again.”

She bit her cheek before she could say they weren’t a bother. He didn’t need her encouraging them to come back, though she definitely enjoyed their humor and different but extroverted personalities.

He extended his arm and she placed her palm in his large hand. Their shake was brief this time but his grip was strong and capable, and she had a sudden vision of those hands running over the most sensitive parts of her body. She trembled at the thought and stepped back, taking him in before he disappeared forever.

His hair was a dark brown with a few strands of gray. She placed him in his mid to late thirties, much older than she was, and she would not go down that road again. Too many things about this man reminded her of her professor ex, and her humiliating past. Something she didn’t need to worry about since once they walked out that door, she’d never see Noah Powers and his adorable twins again. The thought made her sad.

“Girls, I need to get back to Hazel and tell her I found you. Say goodbye,” he said, nodding at her and Brooke.

Dakota and Dylan pouted at the mention of their nanny and she hoped Noah fired the woman for letting the twins run wild in Manhattan.

“Bye!” Dylan and Dakota yelled as they looked back at her.

Fallon waved and they smiled before they strode out, the door closing behind them.

* * *

Noah sat at the kitchen table with his girls who ate their spaghetti and meatballs in silence. They knew better than to speak when he was as upset as they’d made him. He’d never been as afraid in his life as when he’d received the panicked call from Hazel that his kids were missing. Hazel, who had quit via text, something he’d discovered when he’d walked out of the gallery and checked his cell.

Thank God he’d found his kids. He should have bought them phones like they’d been asking for, he thought, watching them slurp the pasta strands. Of course, doing it now would be rewarding their little stunt today, but their safety came first. As much as he wanted to punish them, he’d already done some serious reprimanding, Dakota had solemnly stated statistics that backed up his concerns, and they’d apologized.

At least he knew for sure now they’d memorized his cell number, which was a plus. If he hadn’t caught sight of them in the gallery window, he’d have eventually seen the call from the young woman who worked there. Fallon, who somehow reminded the girls of their mother, enough to draw them into the shop. He could see the physical resemblance from behind but she looked nothing like Charlie.

Something about Fallon Sterling had stopped him in his tracks. Though he’d found the kids, he’d still been worked up and angry but once he was able to focus, he’d been struck by her beauty. Entranced, even. He’d wanted her immediately and for a man who’d kept his social life to the bare minimum since the girls were born, that was saying something.

“Daddy, did you like the paintings we saw today?” Dylan asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know. I didn’t have time to really look at them.” He’d been too busy memorizing Fallon’s cute nose and the freckles on her cheeks. But at a glance, the work had been fun and attractive, not that he’d tell that to his troublemakers.

Dakota was his little fact spewer and Dylan was the more pragmatic twin. She’d feel him out and guide him in the direction she wanted him to go. In this case, buying a painting they hadn’t even priced. He had a hunch her desire for art involved seeing Fallon again. She’d made as much of an impression on his girls as she had on him. Very different impressions for very different reasons.

Noah had taken one look at her pouty lips and wanted a taste. He’d caught sight of that crinkly flowing skirt and all he could think about was lifting it up, sliding her panties aside, and thrusting his cock inside her. Which had his dick reacting, something that never happened with his kids around. That in itself told him Fallon was dangerous.

“I looked up modern pop art, Daddy, and it includes imagery from popular culture.” Dakota put her spoon down. “I’m finished.”

He nodded. “Do you even know what popular culture is?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Duh. It’s what the modern person finds interesting. Like the Taylor Swift effect. Or those soup labels by the man Fallon told us about. Andy umm…”

“Warhol.” So Dakota had done the research. “Okay. The paintings were impressive.” He gave in because they’d keep going if he didn’t. “But I’m sure they’re too expensive.”

Noah came from family money that ensured he never had to work but it was important to him to be independent and self-sufficient, and to teach his girls the same values.

Dylan curled a leg beneath her on the chair. “But we could go back and find out the cost.”

And there it was. They wanted to see Fallon again.

He couldn’t, and not just because of the hazardous attraction he felt for her. She’d talked about her art as a passion, something she felt compelled to follow, her words reminding him of Charlie’s when it came to her archaeology. She found her career a passion worth pursuing no matter the cost or collateral damage and Fallon struck him as much the same.

He and Charlie had always been oil and water; his feet on the ground, hers in the clouds on the intangible. They’d had sparks though and a night at an airport hotel during a weather delay, led to the twins. He’d never begrudge her, her career but the way the girls had focused in on Fallon told him how much Charlie’s presence was missed.

But that didn’t mean Fallon was the woman to fill it. For any of them.