Page 32 of Illicit Temptation

She shudders in my arms. “No... The other has two cribs.”

“Cribs?”

We stay this way, her in my arms, her head inches from slipping under my jaw.

“My brothers have been making lots of babies these past two years. And their wives love it here in the Hamptons. Nearly every weekend in the summer, I have visitors. The kids need a place to sleep.”

The idea of a crying wee-one in the room across the hall while I’m buried balls deep in their Auntie Shea makes me...

Smile.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Shea

Saturday morning, Trace is waiting for me by my car in the courtyard, all suited up and dressed to kill. Appropriate since he admitted to killing people.

“I booked the room overlooking the racetrack six months ago. I have emails confirming,” I argue on my phone with some venue assistant filling in for my contact who went into labor last night. “I have caterers coming to set up and a florist who was given the room’s layout for the arrangements.Thatroom better be free for my team when I get there.” I hang up and get inside the car, my hand brushing against Trace’s while he holds the door.

“Problem, princess? Something you need me to take care of?”

I gasp, worrying for the first time that Trace will step in when I have an issue at a party. There are always issues at a party. Nope, this won’t work.

“No problem. I handled it. Ialwayshandle it. Me. Not you.”

“We’ll see...” He gets in the driver’s seat and keeps the radio off.

Once we’re on the main road, Trace says, “I wonder if your brothers appreciate how hard you work.”

Swallowing a lump in my throat, I ask, “Why do you say that?”

Our eyes meet in the mirror, his behind shades. “No reason. What’s this party for?”

“It’s my first year hosting the Winter Charity Festival for the Xavier Foundation.”

Carter Holden hired me on the spot, but I had a connection through Sabine Quinlan, whose sister-in-law is related to Carter’s sister through marriage.

“I’d been working on this event for months.” I don’t tell Trace about my ulterior motive to be noticed by the Manhattan elite, where I plan to expand my business.

The painful ending with Archer opened my eyes that I have to put more energy into my business. A pit of dread forms in my stomach. More events in Manhattan mean I’ll likely bump into Archer.

Who cares. It’s a big city, and I wonder if he’s noticed a drop-off in diamond sales since I no longer send anyone there.

We get to the converted castle with botanical gardens and a polo track. I’m immediately sucked into a whirlwind, but my subcontractors are on their game. It’s a luncheon and not an evening ballgown gig. I’ve hosted chic parties in Manhattan, Vegas weddings, and corporate wine tours on the North Fork. I do it all. And usually, my clients and their guests don’t even know I have a bodyguard. That freaks out the average person who doesn’t care to be an innocent bystander in a mass shooting.

Trace Quinlan, however, doesn’t watch me from the shadows. Heismy shadow. I’m ready to kill that man and he’s only been with me one day. Every waitress has noticed him and did double takes, nearly dropping their trays. His size alone turns heads. If he wasn’t a bodyguard in an expensive suit, people would think he’s a football player. Or a runway model.

One server in particular keeps stopping to chat with him. Annoyingly, he indulges her. He’s working, she’s working. Ornotworking becauseIhave to get coffees over tohertable.

My nerves rattled, I collide with someone, and the coffees I’m carrying splash all over my shirt. My white shirt.

A young busboy who I bumped into snaps at me. “Watch it.”

Trace rockets toward me, a growly wall between me and the kid. “Say that again to her, I dare you.”

Ben, according to his name tag, turns white, eyes slowly climbing up Trace’s frame. “She wasn’t...”

Trace smiles wickedly. “Go ahead, mate. Finish that sentence.”

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