Page 2 of Illicit Temptation

“Of course.” I reach out to pat his arm but snap it back.

Cheaters don’t deserve sympathy. Then I consider my own situation. My boyfriend, Archer Crest is married, but he’s been separated for the last five years. The Crests are Manhattan royalty, but that didn’t stop me from hiring a PI to stalk Archer early on to confirm he and his wife were indeed living in separate residences before I agreed to date him.

Archer said Vivika wouldn’t agree to his divorce terms and they married without a pre-nup. His lawyers have been in a long-term battle with her lawyers to come up with a settlement.

Five years, I’ve been waiting for that man. But we’re a good match. He’s a busy diamond mogul, and I have myown career. I willnotbe a trophy wife or arm candy. For any man.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Paige’s groom throws his arms around me, the heat of his body a stark reminder of the male form.

Archer has been in Sierra Leone all week dealing with mine managers but promised to meet me here in Vegas. The last text I got, however, said that he missed his connecting flight from London.

I’m losing my mind. And wishing I packed my nine-inch dildo.

“Get your hands off my sister.” A growly male voice startles me.

The groom pops off, wiping his eyes. “S... Sorry.”

His eyes travel the length of Cormac’s six-one frame. His twin, Darragh, keeps a villa here. I’ve been staying there while in town for this gig. Darragh is a single dad raising my adorable niece, Sophie, alone. Cormac is still a rake.

When I mentioned this wedding, he hopped on the next flight. He never passes up a chance to go a little wild in Sin City.

Larke looks ready to faint taking him in.

“We’ve had a hiccup here,” I say to Cormac, tucking her behind me. “The wedding is off. I have to tell everyone.”

“Why you?” Cormac turns his head toward the groom staggering off alone. “It’shisdamn wedding.”

When he and Darragh were younger, my mother did the ghastly thing of dressing them the same, but in college, Cormac developed his own edgy style, differentiating himself from Darragh’s clean-cut looks.

They are both devastatingly handsome. All my brothers are.

Me? With my freckles and always sporting a few extra pounds that turned into a permanent thickness in mywaist and thighs, I never felt pretty.

“I know, but think of the guests who flew all the way here,” I argue. “They deserve to be told in a gentle way.”

“I’ll... I’ll do it,” Larke pipes up from behind me.

Larke has really come along as my assistant. I’ve been assigning her more and more parties to manage on her own. Erin, my stylist, rounds out our team, but she’s back in the East Hampton office holding down the fort.

“Sure.” I pat Larke on the back. “Let me see how you handle it.”

“What do I say?” She leans in to me like I have a clue.

“You were right there with me.” I could dictate her a speech, but that doesn’t give her a chance to grow and learn. “You know exactly what I know. Be gentle. Be discreet. Be firm.”

“Okay.” She nods, her brain working. “Is there still a party?”

Just as she asks, the bride, now in a pair of sweats, storms off, leaving the dress and all the meticulously planned accessories behind.

I motion to the retreating, scorned woman. “Since the bride is leaving, I would say no.”

Larke straightens her back in theChallenge Acceptance-mode I adore about her. “Got it.”

Off she goes into the ceremony room, where everyone is chatting and asking questions.

“Good mentoring, Shea-Lynne,” Cormac whispers to me over my shoulder.

I spin around. “Looks like I’m free for the rest of the night.”

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