Page 6 of Illicit Temptation

“Oh, wow. TMI.” I clear my throat and wipe the image of a younger him jerking off from my brain.

“I’d prefer to see those beautiful freckles uncovered. Care to take a swim in the pool with me at the Plaza?”

We lock eyes and my panties grow damp. “I didn’t bring a suit with me.” I wait for a skinny-dipping invite, but my phone buzzes. “Excuse me.”

Thankful for the distraction, I step away from the dizzying cologne and open my messages, startled to see a text from my old PI.

PI: This one’s no charge.

A photo is attached.

Of Archer.

In New York City.

Going into hisestrangedwife’s townhouse.

PI: The kids left with the nanny two hours ago, and the bedroom shades got drawn shortly after. Sorry, Ms. O’Rourke.

Missed his flight, my ass. Howcouldhe?

Heart pounding, I toss the phone into my purse. I fight oncoming tears but am surprised when they don’t materialize. Because I’m not upset. I’mfurious.

“Problem, princess?” Trace’s deep voice feels like cool satin against my heated skin. He steps closer, and his delicious scent surrounds me.

My ache to feel a man’s hands on my body is winning over my better senses and judgment.

“There’s no problem.” I allow my eyes to feast on him and offer him another bite of the pretzel, which he takes. “We need some real food.”

“And drinks.” He smiles.

Two wrongs don’t make a right. I’d rather have integrity on my side, but if Archer can screw his wife behind my back, I can let a Quinlan flirt with me for a little while.

It’s not like I’d sleep with my brother’s best friend. I’d catch all kinds of hell for that.

And Trace... He could end up at Lachlan’s black site where he ‘hurts’ people who betray him.

But a night of intense flirting, I can do. And boy, do I want to.

Time to have a little fun. “Lead the way, Quinlan!”

CHAPTER THREE

Shea

Iopen my eyes, head pounding, my throat a desert. What the frig happened? I bolt up in a strange bed, my wild bed hair tumbling across my shoulders. As the crisp white bedsheet slips down to my waist, I slap a hand over my mouth.

I’m...naked.

Grabbing the sheet to cover my bare breasts, I glance to my right, looking for a nightstand. The unfamiliar furniture unfurls before my eyes, and my panic deepens. Oh God, where the hell am I?

Something stirs next to me.

No, no, no!

Holding my breath, I glance toward the movement.

Trace Quinlan sleeps on his side facing me. The sheet lays lazily on his tattooed hip, his sculpted chest bare. He’s covered in gray skulls, red roses, and green scrolling sentences that look like bible verses etched into his golden skin.

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