Illicit Temptation (Astoria Royals #3)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Shea

S aturday morning, Trace is waiting for me by my car in the courtyard, all suited up and dressed to kill. Appropriate since he admitted to killing people.

“I booked the room overlooking the racetrack six months ago. I have emails confirming,” I argue on my phone with some venue assistant filling in for my contact who went into labor last night. “I have caterers coming to set up and a florist who was given the room’s layout for the arrangements. That room better be free for my team when I get there.” I hang up and get inside the car, my hand brushing against Trace’s while he holds the door.

“Problem, princess? Something you need me to take care of?”

I gasp, worrying for the first time that Trace will step in when I have an issue at a party. There are always issues at a party. Nope, this won’t work.

“No problem. I handled it. I always handle it. Me. Not you.”

“We’ll see...” He gets in the driver’s seat and keeps the radio off.

Once we’re on the main road, Trace says, “I wonder if your brothers appreciate how hard you work.”

Swallowing a lump in my throat, I ask, “Why do you say that?”

Our eyes meet in the mirror, his behind shades. “No reason. What’s this party for?”

“It’s my first year hosting the Winter Charity Festival for the Xavier Foundation.”

Carter Holden hired me on the spot, but I had a connection through Sabine Quinlan, whose sister-in-law is related to Carter’s sister through marriage .

“I’d been working on this event for months.” I don’t tell Trace about my ulterior motive to be noticed by the Manhattan elite, where I plan to expand my business.

The painful ending with Archer opened my eyes that I have to put more energy into my business. A pit of dread forms in my stomach. More events in Manhattan mean I’ll likely bump into Archer.

Who cares. It’s a big city, and I wonder if he’s noticed a drop-off in diamond sales since I no longer send anyone there.

We get to the converted castle with botanical gardens and a polo track. I’m immediately sucked into a whirlwind, but my subcontractors are on their game. It’s a luncheon and not an evening ballgown gig. I’ve hosted chic parties in Manhattan, Vegas weddings, and corporate wine tours on the North Fork. I do it all. And usually, my clients and their guests don’t even know I have a bodyguard. That freaks out the average person who doesn’t care to be an innocent bystander in a mass shooting.

Trace Quinlan, however, doesn’t watch me from the shadows. He is my shadow. I’m ready to kill that man and he’s only been with me one day. Every waitress has noticed him and did double takes, nearly dropping their trays. His size alone turns heads. If he wasn’t a bodyguard in an expensive suit, people would think he’s a football player. Or a runway model.

One server in particular keeps stopping to chat with him. Annoyingly, he indulges her. He’s working, she’s working. Or not working because I have to get coffees over to her table.

My nerves rattled, I collide with someone, and the coffees I’m carrying splash all over my shirt. My white shirt.

A young busboy who I bumped into snaps at me. “ Watch it.”

Trace rockets toward me, a growly wall between me and the kid. “Say that again to her, I dare you.”

Ben, according to his name tag, turns white, eyes slowly climbing up Trace’s frame. “She wasn’t...”

Trace smiles wickedly. “Go ahead, mate. Finish that sentence.”

I step in between them. “It’s okay.”

“Um, sorry, ma’am.” Ben scampers away, his tray of dishes clanging.

“Are you all right?” Trace’s hands hover over my coffee-stained shirt, my breasts feeling the heat of his touch. More than the coffee. “Aww fuck. That coffee was hot, wasn’t it?”

“I’d be in more trouble if it wasn’t hot.”

“Did you not see that dosser, princess?” He lifts my chin. “You did run right into him.”

Fury consumes me as I stand here, shaking, covered in coffee. “Did it look like I saw him?” I grit out and meet his eyes.

He tears his gaze away and snaps his fingers. “Larke, get two coffees over to Table 6.”

“You...” I swallow. “You knew where I was taking these coffees?”

“I’ve been watching you all day.” He takes the half-empty cups from me.

“I saw you chatting happily with one of the servers.” My hands shake, embarrassment flooding me from the gigantic stain. “I had to pick up her slack.”

“Sorry. Just being polite. My focus was entirely on you, I promise. I saw the vacant look in your eyes. I’ve been watching you enough to know when you’re lost in thought.” He lifts my gaze to his. “You were heading straight for that guy.”

I was lost in thought. About him. Talking to another woman.

“I didn’t eat much today,” I make an excuse, tugging my jacket closed.

I wore a dark blue suit and a white collared shirt. I’m supposed to be threading through the guests to make sure everything is perfect without being noticed.

As much as I try, Trace can’t seem to not notice me.

“Looks like we have several things to rectify.” Trace takes my hand. “Do you have an extra shirt in the car?”

“No. This never happened before.” I let him lead me away from the party, thankful for the few moments I don’t have to think. And I’ll be packing extra clothes from now on if this wall of a man is going to cause me further spilling disasters.

We pass a waiter, and Trace snags his arm. “I need a plate of food for Ms. O’Rourke. Right now. ”

The waiter shoots a concerned gaze at me “Oh... Okay. Which meal?”

“Steak,” Trace says before I can weigh in, and spins me down a corridor. “If you tell me you don’t eat red meat...”

“I eat meat. And the steak tips on the menu were delicious when we did a tasting. Where are you taking me?”

“To a place where I can take care of you.”

A vision of him going down on me makes me stumble, but he catches me.

“Why?” I blurt.

“Because you take care of everyone else.” He grips my chin. “Do you think I haven’t noticed that you’re the one your brothers call when they need something for their new wives? And how you can’t get to Astoria fast enough to be there for them?”

Here, I thought no one noticed what I did. Just expected it. The way I expect my brothers to protect me. It goes both ways. But Trace isn’t my brother. He’s my...husband .

“The private lounge is that way.” I tip my head, motioning further down the corridor.

Private.

I slip from his grasp and walk ahead of him, although I have no idea what I’ll do to fix this.

At the doorway to the lounge, Trace steps in front of me and looks inside. “Clear.”

I laugh. “It’s not a foxhole.”

He spins to face me, flames of war memories rising in his eyes. “That’s not funny.”

I swallow. “Sorry. Bad joke. Okay, you’ve gotten me someplace...”

The words die in my throat as Trace slowly slips off his suit jacket. “Take off that shirt.”

I tilt my head. “I could wear that jacket of yours as a dress, but it’s cold and my legs will freeze.”

“Don’t tempt me with that tasty visual, princess. I might call your bluff.” He tosses his jacket on a jacquard sofa and then unbuttons his crisp white dress shirt.

What’s underneath stills me. Stripped of the dress shirt, he stands there in a white ribbed sleeveless undershirt. His shoulders look carved from marble and his rounded biceps, covered in ink, are threaded with sexy veins down his lightly dusted forearms.

Already woozy from this glimpse of what he’s been hiding under his impeccably cut suits, Trace sends me over the edge when he lifts that white ribbed shirt over his head.

Bare-chested he stands there, and I need to hold on to something. Memories of his body weren’t faulty. Although, it hits differently when he’s vertical.

“Your turn, princess.”

My hands dangle at my side. “I assure you, my body is not as impressive.”

“I distinctly remember that it was.” He closes the space between us. “Why don’t you show me again, and I’ll give you my assessment.”

Hopefully along with his cock...

Stop!

“Why are you doing this?” I don’t understand this attraction he has for me and why he’s so unapologetic about reminding me of how we lost control that one night in Vegas.

“Because after one taste of you, I couldn’t forget you. I didn’t want to.” A cheeky smile builds on his beautiful mouth.

“From one time?” I take a breath.

“Princess, I fucked you all night long and you loved it.” He slowly unbuttons my coffee-drenched blouse.

I’m shuddering too much to stop him. I’ve gone completely boneless. Not numb. I feel every inch of my heated, aroused skin.

Shaking his head, he sighs, “I distract you too much. That’s not good bodyguard etiquette. You’re needed out there. And I’m keeping you, so let me help you undress.”

And I just let him...

He removes my shirt and growls. “Your nipples are hard.”

“It’s... It’s cold in here.” Of all days to wear a sheer bra.

He quirks an eyebrow and then presses his body against mine. “If I warm you up like this, will they relax?”

Not likely.

“Your shirt please.” I figure out he’s giving me his undershirt. I can wear that beneath my suit jacket, and no one will be the wiser.

I shockingly don’t feel the ache of missing Archer in my heart like I thought. God, that was a mistake. A bullet I dodged. And if I had any idea of letting him crawl back into my life when he once again realizes his wife isn’t the woman for him, thanks to Trace, I’ll never see him again .

Seems like a thank you fuck is in order.

God, what am I saying? This man scrambles my brain. I whip the shirt from his fingers and turn around to put it on. My nipples are hopelessly still erect and straining against the bra.

“This is almost as good a view,” Trace breathes on the back of my neck.

With the shirt on and hiding how he makes me feel, I say, “Thank you for the shirt.”

Trace slowly slides his dress shirt back on. “Relax the anger, princess. You were the one caught like a deer in the headlights looking at me.”

“You were watching me, too.”

“At least I admit it.” He pulls me toward him. “I learned to stalk innocent prey by watching you from the shadows that summer on your family farm.”

“That was a long time ago. And you were so young.”

He stands over me. “In those rural lands, boys grew into men at an early age.” He opens his mouth to say more, but then steps back, darkness clouding his eyes.

“What?” I’m slowly getting addicted to the way this man wants me and doesn’t hold back.

“Nothing.” He clears his throat. “Let’s get you back to work, princess.”