Page 81 of Illicit Temptation

She sits back and crosses her arms. “Does this mean I won’t be getting those grandkids I’ve been asking you for? I’ve been telling you I’m ready.”

My throat tightens to a painful level. Sure, a man will say it’s no big deal if you can’t have kids. Their mums are a different story. I can’t get caught up with this man. He deserves better.

This woman wants grandchildren.

Taking a deep breath, I pull out my phone and get to my feet from the booth. “Well, it was nice to meet you both. Have fun on your trip. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

I stride several feet from the table, and when I look back, Trace is rushing toward me, looking like he’s about to tackle me.

“What are you doing?” he growls. “Do you seriously think you’re leaving this casino without me?”

“With a guard my brother hired to protect his wife in a town where the mafia don may or may not try to kill her. I’msafe.”

“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight, you’re out of your mind.”

Hiding my sadness, I say, “Your mum will never accept me. Especially because—”

“Don’t say it.” His eyes flutter. “It’s none of her business.”

“Of course it is. She deserves grandchildren. Every mother does.” I think about my mother with five grandkids and more on the way. And she can’t hold any of them.

Trace’s mother can put those slot-playing arms to use and be a grandma. I won’t deny her that.

“Can we trust she won’t tell anyone?” Something I want to deck Trace for spilling.

“My dad will talk to her. He’s not naïve about our world. He knows what my Uncle Aiden did for years. He knows about your da.”

“Okay.” I have to trust he knows his parents understand what’s at stake.

“Trace?” Freye calls out to us. “Everything all right?”

Strangely for a military man turned deadly bodyguard with a body covered in tattoos he can never show his mum, he blushes, and I feel sorry for him. But it’s best I lethim have this time with his parents. “Enjoy your mum. You know mine is...”

“Fuck, princess, I’m sorry.” He pushes a hand through his hair. “I’ll text Ames to pick you up. I trust him the most.”

I nod, and we walk hand in hand back to the table. His mum’s worried eyes kill me. We sit back down, and I take a few gulps of the tea that’s gone cold while Trace was trying to convince me to stay with him. Damn, I love feeling his power. Love giving him control. He’s my peace of mind.

Like he heard my thoughts, Trace’s hand settles into my lap. It’s so warm, and I can’t help squeezing it.

“How long are you in town?” Trace asks his parents.

“Until Sunday,” his father answers, his voice somber.

“I still want to know what’s going on,” his mum needles us. “If you’re not really married, or didn’t mean to be, why are you bloody holding hands under the table?”

Saying I can’t have kids sits on the tip of my tongue. That will dial her back. She’ll leap over the table and snatch Trace away from me. God, the disappointment in a man’s mother’s eyes isn’t something I can bear.

“Ms. O’Rourke?” Ames, one of Jillian’s guards, appears at our table.

Saved by the guard.

“Give me a moment,” I say to him and finish my tea. When I reach for my purse to pay for everyone, Trace’s death stare pulls my hand away. “Again, it’s lovely to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Quinlan. I need to meet up with my sister-in-law who’s here doing some business. I’ll see you later, Trace.”

He just nods, eyes rolling behind his shades. Even if I don’t see them, I know every curve of his face.

“Thank you, Ames. I’m ready.” I slog to the exit of the Bellagio like the broken princess I am.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

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