Page 18 of Taming Her Temptations

“It must be so sad to have your morals tied to purse strings.” Odette sighs. “Lucky for you, I’ve got enough money to burn all on my own, so I don’t need to suck up to your pathetic ex.”

This surprises me as I’m taking a sip of my whiskey. I have to put my hand in front of my mouth to make sure I don’t spit my drink up all over her while I laugh.

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all week,” I say when I stop laughing. “Hell, maybe all year.”

“I mean it. You’ve got a friend in me, kid.” She raises her gin and tonic to me and we cheers. “Now tell me about those three hunks you pulled up with. They seem like a breath of fresh air.”

I sigh. “I should probably check on them. I’m introducing them to ‘society’.” I say the word with air quotes. “They’re hosting the Ocean Guard Foundation Gala and don’t know a thing about anything or anyone in this town. Although, after tonight, I wouldn’t be surprised if they realize I’m the last person who should be introducing them to this place.”

“Bring them to my place for a luncheon,” she offers, twisting her blueberry-sized diamond earring between her fingers. “I can play bad witch and criticize them if any of their manners are off.”

I straighten up with excitement. “Odette, that’s perfect!” I see Levi over her shoulder, pacing my way. “Even better, let’s have them host you. We can really put them to work then.”

She winks at me. “I won’t say no to an invitation to dine with three handsome young men.”

“Three handsome young men? Who might those be?” Levi comes up behind her.

I feel myself stiffen. Even though he’s been kind to me, he’s still Madison’s brother. And right now, that is all I can see him as.

I introduce the two of them and when I finish, Levi looks up at me with his eyes squinted in reprimand. I swallow hard. Is he mad at me for getting drunk when I’m supposed to be guiding them? Or for simply existing in the same room as his pregnant sister?

“How come Odette isn’t on my list of eligible bachelorettes?” He asks in exaggerated disappointment.

I’m so relieved I even laugh at his corny side, even though it was clearly intended for Odette’s pleasure and not mine.

“Oh, honey. You couldn’t keep up with me.” Odette finishes her gin and tonic, slams it on the table, and then leaves with a wink like the badass she is.

“How are the guys? Getting into trouble with me not around?” I ask Levi after he finishes laughing at Odette’s response.

“Well, yeah, they’re definitely getting into trouble but that’s not why I came your way.”

I cock my head at him questioningly, waiting for him to finish his explanation, but instead, his eyes dart behind me.

I twist, following his gaze and as I do the room takes a little to catch up. I really need to stop getting myself surprise drunk these days. Tomorrow, I’m going to swear off alcohol.

That thought is completely blown to smithereens as I realize what Levi is looking at. More accurately, who he is looking at.

Steven is a few paces away. Steven as in Shithead Steve. The one and only head-full-of-shit Steve. The man who has managed to avoid my calls for three months but can’t avoid the bar for 45 minutes.

“Listen,” Levi says lowly. “You and him need to have a conversation, but now isn’t the time or place. You’re buzzed and you’ll regret it.”

I whip my head toward him. Who does he think he is? Some kind of wise prophet whispering his advice to helpless women in need of his assistance?

“I didn’t ask you, Levi Wilde. What do you know about decorum?”

“Fuck decorum,” he says in a low, gravelly voice that has a surprising effect on me. “I’m just trying to be a friend.”

“A friend?” I shake my head. “You’re trying to be a good brother. Which is fine, but just leave me out of it. I want my shit back.” I get ready to turn my back to him to approach Steve when something out-of-place catches my eye. Even in my tipsy state, I know fundraisers shouldn’t have so much rapid movement. And yelling. And shirtless men?

I swear under my breath and drop my drink to the table, rushing over to stop whatever in the fresh hell is happening with Dean and Asher right now.

As I get closer, I confirm it wasn’t a whiskey hallucination. Dean is, in fact, shirtless. I swear that man doesn’t keep a shirt on for more than a couple of hours at a time. But he has kept his bowtie on and the effect is very male stripper, which I’ll be honest, I don’t totally hate right now. What I do hate though, is that it is happening right here and now.

Asher has a damn champagne saber in one hand and a bottle of champagne in another, while Dean is holding handfuls of champagne glasses between his fingers. Apparently, this is how they’re opening champagne for the party. The champagne saber is meant to be for skilled servers only, which they are certainly not. A crowd has gathered around them, a mix of both grimaces, cheering, and laughs.

“Ruby Rivers!” Dean shouts when he sees me. “What’s your bet? How many champagne glasses can we fill at one time?”

This is the epitome of a delicate situation. I can’t be seen to be too controlling of them or people will ask too many questions. But I also can’t allow this to keep happening or heck knows the consequences. Asher will probably slice into the next Secretary of State’s arm with the weapon he’s wielding.

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