Page 50 of Friends with Benefits (Club Risqué)

Also, they had to check the programme and participants for the display platforms and ensure all of the club commitments were on schedule, juggling any last-minute changes that inevitably cropped up.

If Trinity had known the woman better, she would have known it was indeed a premeditated attempt to catch them off guard.

She swirled into Trinity's office as if she owned the place, and Trinity felt a visceral jolt when she recognised the obnoxious woman from Tuesday evening's charity event.

She was dressed in unrelieved black leather fetish wear; a waist cinching balconette corset, which highlighted her astounding figure and offered up her mostly naked breasts as if on a platter, and a tiny, impossibly tight skirt teamed with heels so high they made Trinity's eyes water at the thought of the pressure they must put on the arches of her feet.

The long blonde hair was artfully highlighted in several different shades to stop it looking brassy, and her big blue eyes and pouting pink lips were cleverly made up to give her an aura of innocence that Trinity didn't trust an inch.

Determinedly shelving the intrusive feelings of inadequacy she felt at being caught in a comfy tunic and leggings in subdued shades of greens and brown, and a pair of ballet flats that did absolutely nothing to improve her stature—in fact, if anything, she was irritatingly aware that they probably added to the elfin look now that her hair was back to its usual spiky red—Trinity schooled her features into an impassive and unrevealing mask and cursed the fact that she had gone without makeup that day.

Well, she hoped that's how she came across anyway.

Underneath it all, her heart was slamming out of her chest and her palms were decidedly sweaty, but there was no way she was giving this woman the satisfaction of knowing any of that.

Trinity instinctively knew that even the slightest indication of any weakness would be ruthlessly used against her.

"How can I help you?" she asked with cool professionalism, hiding her irritation that the woman had just sauntered in and folded herself elegantly into a chair without even being invited.

The blonde fluttered her eyelashes. Did she really think that kind of act was going to work here?

"Oh, I do apologise," she began breathily. "It's just that my husband has a guest membership at your club while he's here on business for a few weeks and I really wanted to try to get in tonight so I could surprise him with my little visit."

Trinity frowned and tapped a button on her keyboard so that her monitor flickered to life and wondered whom she could be referring to. Katie hadn't given any indication that this woman was married. Quite the opposite in fact. Still…

"If your husband is a guest, then there's probably not a lot I can do, I'm afraid."

Practicality took over and Trinity dropped straight into business mode. "Club Risqué is very exclusive and doesn't accept unsolicited membership applications. The only way to get in is by sponsorship recommendation or as a guest, and if your husband is already attending as a guest on somebody else's membership, then he can't invite guests of his own."

"Oh, he doesn't know I'm coming," the woman pouted. "Things have been a little strained between us recently, but we've reconciled, and I wanted to surprise him. Isn't there any way…"

She trailed off like a little girl lost, and Trinity sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She briefly wondered why the woman hadn't sought out Micah. She looked like the type who would be more than happy to use her womanly wiles on any man, if it helped her to get her own way.

Then again, Micah was unusually perceptive, and it was damn hard to scoot anything past him, so perhaps she’d made the right choice for this play.

"Do you know who your husband is here as the guest of?" she enquired politely. "It might be possible for me to put you on as a guest couple."

She fluttered her eyebrows again. "Oh, umm…I don't know for sure, but I think it might be a friend of his called Logan Thornton?" she couched it like a question, and Trinity gritted her teeth.

There was no way this woman was as ditsy as she was making herself out to be. Trinity had seen her in action the other night and clearly remembered the catty way she had spoken to Katie. The saccharine sweet persona she was trying to embody now might have fooled Trinity if she hadn't already seen a different side of her in action.

But she had, and it was obvious the nasty ‘Bea’ didn't recognise Trinity from the ball, or she probably wouldn't have tried to lay it on so thick.

Bringing up Logan's guest details, and seeing Christian's name stated on the guest list, Trinity looked back at the woman with a hint of cynicism. "I think you must be mistaken about who your husband's sponsor is. Logan does have a guest cited against his membership, but the gentleman in question isn't married," she said coolly, trying not to let her disquiet show on her face.

"Are you sure? Maybe he just didn't change his details yet. Like I said, we've recently been separated, but the divorce was never finalised, and we decided to give it another go. My husband's name is Christian Knightley, and I'm Bianca Knightley.”

Trinity hid her face behind the monitor. She was sick to her stomach and felt like the slightest wrong move might make her vomit. Heat swept the back of her neck and prickled her face and she swallowed convulsively, desperately trying to rid herself of the metallic taste that had her salivary glands doing a tap dance on her tonsils.

Surreptitiously wiping her clammy hands down her leggings, Trinity breathed carefully through her nose and tried to ignore the pain that was tearing through her chest as if someone had ripped her open from sternum to gut. There was no way she was giving this woman—or any fucker else for that matter, she thought viciously—the satisfaction of knowing how much she hurt.

Pretending that she was accessing other files on her PC, Trinity tapped on a few more keys in order to calm herself and buy a bit of time. She cleared her throat and took a sip of water from the glass on her desk, swallowing carefully before she trusted herself to speak.

"Why don't you take a more comfortable seat?" she said carefully. "And I'll see what I can do." She indicated the lounge area of her office then felt the blood draining from her face as the memory of Christian spanking her on the very seat where Bianca was carefully arranging herself came thundering into her mind.

"Excuse me a moment. I don't have the authority to deal with this," she excused, rapidly executing the lock functions to secure her computer, before hastily making her way to the door. "I need to see if I can locate Master Flynn."

Oh fuck, she was going to puke!

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