Page 1 of Irresistible Temptation

PROLOGUE

MACI

Six Weeks Earlier

I’m jobless.

I’m homeless.

And I’m heartbroken.

“What can I get for you?” I’m knocked out of my reverie before tumbling into the levels of betrayal a woman can go through in the span of forty-eight hours.

“Tequila, and keep them coming,” I respond without looking up, too busy trying to slide onto the barstool without making a fool out of myself by falling to the ground. Too bad I’ve already done that in the form of being a dumb woman who chased after a man. Yep, I’m thirty-four years old and have not one single thing to show for it. No car and definitely no home to call my own, and a career that I’ve been more than made aware of currently has me blacklisted.

“Bad day?” I look up from the bar top, finally settled in, and am yanking my skirt down that has a penchant to rise up anytime there’s a chair of some sort involved. Why didn’t I take the time to change out of my work clothes and into a pair of comfy sweats? Oh, that’s right, because I had to somehow manage to hold my head high, keep my shoulders back, and sign the termination papers. Why not add more insult to injury? I did what I had to do. Unfortunately, it meant dressing appropriately because I would never allow that asshat to make me feel any more inferior than I already do. Then I had to swing back to the hotel I’d been staying at, grab my carry-on suitcase, and book it to the airport. I didn’t even have time to use the restroom since time was of the essence, and the last thing I wanted was to be stranded here longer than necessary. Fat a lot of good that did me.

“More like bad week,” I respond. Usually, I have better manners than the ones I’m portraying at the present moment. But I’ve been sitting at this airport for hours upon hours, waiting to board my plane, only to have to stay another night. You know, in the sort of way where it’s impossible to leave the tarmac. Apparently, there was a mechanical issue, then there was no pilot, and then the weather turned downright terrible. The excuses seemed endless. I was handed a voucher for a hotel room attached to the airport and sent on my merry way. It did indeed help dull the raging inferno inside of my soul, but barely.

“Thanks.” The shot of tequila burns like battery acid sliding down my throat.

“Another?” Kelsey asks. I noticed her name badge on the upper left-hand side of her shirt when I slugged the shot back.

“Please.” She pours another shot while my hand never leaves the glass. I’m acting ridiculous, like someone is going to take their last meal away, when the bar is empty. I let go of the glass, allowing it to sit on the dark wood, take a fortifying breath, and try to calm my quaking nerves.

“No problem,” Kelsey replies before moving away. I’d have thought for sure this bar would be busy with this being an international airport in a city I once loved. A place that at any given time could cater to your every whim. I keep my hands in my lap, my thumb fiddling with the mixed metal ring on my index finger, and think back on the reason why I’ve had to box up every last belonging I owned with my now ex-boyfriend, ship it to my parents’ house, and change my mailing address and every last password to every single thing—banking app, email, social media, and bills. It’s been a mess to have to do this from thousands of miles away from the comfort of your true home. A home I called the second everything went down. My dad tried to hop on the next plane to Vegas, but Mom and I talked him down, thankfully. It’s better to cut and, in my case, run. Sprint right back to my parents in Florida. Which is what I was trying to do today, except the world is out to get me, and yes, this is my woe-is-me moment. Tomorrow, I’ll pull my big girl panties up in order to face my fate. Today is not that day. I grab the shot and am about to suck it down in one swallow when I hear his voice.

“Hey, Kelsey, can I get a scotch with a splash of water?” Deep, rich, and with a natural warmth that heats you from the outside in. I’m almost too scared to look toward the man who’s making me rethink this whole being heartbroken stance I’ve taken. Maybe I’m more annoyed than anything else because when I take the chance and look at the man beside me, my insides quiver.

“Macallan good?” I take the plunge. What do I have to lose? I’ve lost everything else, my dignity included, especially after this morning.

“Yeah.” The first sight I’m greeted with are his fingers; they’re long and strong, nails cut neatly, ring finger bare with not so much as a line or indent visible, and he’s currently strumming a beat on the top of the bar. I notice the long-sleeve shirt, the cufflinks with the airplane securing them in place, and when I take in the whole package…

There are so many words to describe the man sitting beside me.

Captivating.

Striking.

Confident.

And last but not least, mesmerizing.

“Tysen.” He offers his hand, and while he’s got me swallowing my tongue and my mouth suddenly goes dry, his big palm slides into mine, and the feeling only intensifies. So much so, desire pools between my legs and I have to clamp my thighs together. When the palm of my hand slides into his, my want for this man seems to intensify even more.

“Maci,” I reply. When Tysen licks his lips, I’m drawn in like a moth to a flame. I take the sexy stranger in, working my way from the top to the bottom.

Short, dark, naturally textured hair with a tight curl pattern, sharp jawline, high cheekbones. Rich, deep mahogany skin tone. Expressive eyes that are intense, reflecting both depth and emotion. Full lips that have me biting the inside of my cheek, desperately wanting to feel them pressed against mine. His facial hair is neatly trimmed, along his cheeks, chin, and around his mouth. The collar of his shirt is unbuttoned at the throat, giving me a peek of his muscular chest, which only makes him that much hotter.

“You here long?” he asks.

“Only tonight. My flight was canceled because of the storms.” I continue my downward path, perusing his body. Broad shoulders, defined chest, tapered torso, and yes, I can see all that while he’s sitting down. I can also tell he’s tall, really freaking tall, and he’s really fucking hot.

“Same. Weather sucks. May as well make the most of it.” His voice slides over my body like flames licking at coal, heating me up much like his eyes are doing to me.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Tysen tips the contents of his glass back. When he swallows it all in one go, his throat muscles turn me on further, and when he sets it back down, I’m in for another shock to my senses.

“You done?” I shrug my shoulders. “I’ll rephrase that, are you coming or not?” Tysen stands up, tosses a hundred-dollar bill on the bar to pay for our drinks, and waits me out.

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