Page 1 of Illicit Temptation

CHAPTER ONE

Shea-Lynne - Las Vegas - Three Years Earlier

“Mysister!” The irate bride throws her silk-wrapped, blood-red and sunset-white rose bouquet at a shaking and sweating groom.

“It didn’t mean anything, Paige,” he coughs out, quickly ducking as the six-hundred-dollar bouquet hits the blush-colored wall behind him.

Not a petal falls out of place. That’s how good my florist is. Only, with five minutes until the ceremony, I may need funeral flowers because a bestie just came in and whispered what we’ve all been holding our breath about for the last twelve hours.

My team and I have been in Code Red-mode since my assistant, Larke, spotted the drunk maid of honor, also the sister of the bride, slipping into the groom’s hotel room at one a.m., here at the Millennium Plaza. As a neutral third party, it’s not my place to say anything, but I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night because of it. It’s four p.m., and I’m ready to collapse. With how things are going, at least I won’t have to make it to midnight when this shindig would have wrapped up.

“What’s going on?” Sarah, the mother of the bride, storms in.

“I’ll tell you what’snotgoing on.” Paige rips the custom-made cathedral veil off her head and tosses it. “This wedding.”

“What? Why?” Sarah looks at me with angry eyes like it’s somehow my fault. “Fix this, Miss Party Planner!”

My jaw drops and nothing comes out of my mouth. Clientsalwaysexpect me to fix problems at their parties, but I know when to stay in my lane. I’m aneventcoordinatorand not a couple’s therapist.

My brothers, bless their hearts, call me a party planner, while they run the Irish Mob in Astoria, New York. They thinktheirbusiness is bloody. Hah! They should try being a ‘party’ planner for one week, and they’ll see real treachery and backstabbing.

When Sarah realizes I’m not going to respond, she cuts her gaze back to the seething bride. “Paige dear, whathappened?”

“Ask Ashley,” Paige snarls at her sister who’s wobbling on her six-inch heels with what I now recognize as sex hair. “Andhim.”

“What didhedo?” Paige’s father appears at the doorway to the bridal lounge, his voice a deep bellow that makes even me jump.

“I heard they were screwing!” Paige starts to unzip her dress.

Here comes the blood...

“I think we should leave,” Larke whispers to me.

Rarely does an event go so spectacularly off the rails in a short amount of time. I’m frozen and curious to see what happens next. It’s the O’Rourke genes in me. I can’t walk away from trouble.

Sarah’s face blooms with a color close to the tossed bouquet. “This is a...a family matter, ladies.” She signals for me and Larke to leave.

Damn. Just when it was getting good.

“Of course.” I pull Larke out of the lounge with me.

In the hallway, my mind kicks into overdrive, thinking of what to do next. What isreallyexpected of me? I coordinated this luxury wedding for the daughter of Wall Street’s top hedge fund manager. The Millennium Plaza had a two-year waitlist.

Everyone’s been paid. Just not me.

Note to self:Text my brother Eoghan to check thiscontract if I’m entitled to collect my fee, regardless. Mr. Harvard Lawyer drafts all my agreements and steps in when a savvy client tries to negotiate me out of making one red cent. Like I’m doing this for free.

Icoulddo it all for free, if I wanted to. I have a trust fund and Eoghan deposits hefty sums into one of my offshore accounts each month as a cut of the family’s ‘business’ profits. Like my youngest brothers, Cormac and Darragh, who are surgeons in Seattle, I went into business for myself.

The disheveled groom appears in the hallway. How the hell did he get out of that room in one piece? The man who thought he was having a hot one-night stand to get a little taboo lust on, now looks wrung out.

“The wedding is off,” he says, guilt dripping from his tone.

Ya think?

“Okay.” I put on my professional hat. “I’ll tell everyone.”

“You will?” His perfect chin juts up at me, his voice catching.

---