Page 30 of Trick's Trap

At the sound of his voice, she stirred and blinked up at him. For a second, her eyes cleared and she appeared to recognize him, but then her lashes fluttered closed as she slumped over unconscious.

Chapter 15

Awhispered argument pulled Tahlia from sleep.

“I’m not leaving Calen,” a woman hissed. “So you can go back to work or go bother Liam for a few hours.”

Blinking, she opened her eyes to a bright sunlit room. Tahlia was in a huge bed almost bigger than the entirety of her old bedroom in Cambridge. The coverlet was a crisp pristine white, the kind she’d only seen in pictures of fine hotel rooms.

“Tahl?”

She turned her head to see a very pregnant Maia MacLachlan sitting in an armchair next to the bed. Hovering in the doorway to her right was her husband Calen. He was standing just in front of Patrick.

Patrick looked so relieved. His smile was small but filled with joy.

Tahlia burst into tears. Arms encircled her awkwardly. Maia had climbed on the bed and was trying to hug her, but the baby bump was getting in the way. For some reason, that made her cry harder.

Her whole body shook as she pressed her face against Maia’s thigh. Her friend made incoherent soothing noises, in between hisses ordering the men to leave.

Long minutes passed as she sobbed uncontrollably. It was as if a dam inside her burst. Tahlia hadn’t cried when she was attacked in her apartment or at any time on the streets. It was only now she didn’t have to be on guard that she allowed herself to break down.

For the moment, she was safe.

Eventually, the storm passed. Wrung out, Tahlia hiccupped, shivering in the aftermath. Sniffing, she raised her head to see how many people had witnessed her lapse in control. Thankfully, she and Maia were alone.

“I made them leave,” Maia said, her sweet little elfin face as warm as Tahlia remembered.

“I’m s-sorry,” Tahlia sniffed, moving her hands to cover her face. She winced at an unexpected pain. There was a brace strapped to her left wrist.

Maia rubbed her back. “It’s a sprain, but it’s not as bad as the one of your ankle. You also have a bandage for a deep scrape over your ribs, a few of which are bruised, but not cracked—I had cracked ribs once; it hurt like hell. You’ve been in and out the whole night. Our doctor took a scan of your head. You also have a mild concussion, but you’re going to be okay.”

If she’d been unconscious, how mild could it have been? Tahlia shifted on the bed with a grunt, pulling her bandaged wrist closer. “The man wrenched it,” she mumbled.

“What man?” Trick demanded from the door.

“I told you to wait outside,” Maia admonished with a scowl. She pointed at the door. “Go. I’ll tell you when you can come back.”

In the doorway, Trick compressed his lips, giving Maia a look of mingled frustration and indulgence. He nodded and retreated, pulling the door partway behind him.

“Close it for real this time,” Maia said in a loud voice. There was a beat before the door snapped shut.

“Pregnancy makes you bossy,” Tahlia joked weakly.

“I am enjoying the power trip,” Maia said, sounding adorably smug. “But it doesn’t work on Calen anymore. Not since the doctor ordered me on bedrest.”

Guilt tightened her chest. “Oh Maia, you shouldn’t be here. You need to rest.”

Maia gestured to the California king. “Hey, I’m on a bed.”

Tahlia frowned, taking in the room around her. Everything was obviously expensive but nondescript and impersonal. This wasn’t her friend’s penthouse.

“Um, where is this bed exactly?”

Maria patted her hand. “You, my dear, are in the inner sanctum—the penthouse floor of the Caislean in Boston.”

“I’m inBoston?” In Patrick’s hotel no less.

Well, that explained his hovering presence. Tahlia bit her lip, examining the dark mahogany furnishings and tasteful paintings on the wall.

---