Page 58 of Trick's Trap

I should be excited.Monte Carlo was literally something out of her dreams, but without Patrick, she couldn’t enjoy it.

At least I fit in.Tahlia had been careful on that score. Always a great mimic, she donned the disguise of a socialite with money to burn. It had been a bluff. Her fake ID, a top-notch Canadian passport, had been very expensive. When she arrived in Monaco, she had enough money left to cover her room and a few hands at the tables. But her luck held. After a few nights, she made enough money to upgrade to a suite in a bigger hotel and to buy a few essential items—this satin dress and her two new best friends.

Tahlia had debated hiring the bodyguards. She wanted to feel secure, but worried about the trustworthiness of strangers. If their protection was for sale, her family could afford to bribe them to give her up. In the end, she gambled on the anonymity given by her new identity and the vibe of decency she felt from the men in question, both former military personnel.

Alfonse, one of her bodyguards, paused on the oriental carpet runner in front of the doors to her room while Nolan took her keycard to open her door. Checking her room before she retired for the night was part of their routine.

Holding her purse in front of her, she mentally reviewed her winning and losing hands while Nolan did his check.

“Hey,”a man shouted.

Tahlia’s head snapped up. Alfonse pushed her against the wall. “Wait here.”

He ran inside to help Nolan. More crashing. It sounded as if something heavy hit the floor before another muffled male voice cried out her name.

Fear flooded through her as she peeked through the door. Was it one of her cousins or did they hire another goon to come get her?

She gasped, recognizing the brown hair trapped in a headlock under Nolan’s arm.

“Patrick!” Tahlia ran inside. “Oh, God. Let him go.”

Nolan obediently released him, letting a red-faced Patrick slide to the floor. He sat there with his eyes watering, coughing and reaching up to her. Tahlia got on her knees, wrapping her arms around him.

“I…I wanted…to surprise you,” Patrick wheezed. He coughed, holding his hands to his throat.

Her bodyguards glanced at each other. Nolan shrugged.

“Do you require medical assistance?” Alfonse asked in his thickly accented English.

Patrick continued to struggle for breath and shook his head.

“Are you sure?” She frowned, holding his shoulders tight.

He waved away her concern. “I’m fine.”

“Who is this?” Nolan asked her, his lips turned down.

“I’m her fiancé, Patrick Tyler.”

Tahlia’s mouth dropped open. Patrick could barely speak, but he managed to wreck her composure and stake his claim with one sentence.

Nolan’s thick eyebrows rose. “Is that true?” His tone was tinged with disbelief. She could see the wheels turning in his head.

“Close enough.” Tahlia’s smile was a little forced. “Don’t worry, he’s not the reason I hired you. If you don’t mind leaving now, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Not too early,” Patrick interjected, getting to his feet with a sour scowl at Nolan.

A corner of Nolan’s mouth turned up in the tiniest smirk, but he nodded at her. She walked him and Alfonse to the door, closing it so they could hear the door latch securely behind them—also part of their routine.

She stayed there, trying to gather her defenses.

“Tahlia.”

That tone did nothing to calm her racing heart.

Pivoting on her heel, she turned to face him. Her lover’s face was unreadable.

“Are you angry with me?” she whispered.

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