Illicit Temptation (Astoria Royals #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Shea

M y brothers and their spouses cluster together at two tables, one brother looking more handsome than the next with their elegant and graceful wives, most in dresses that my Erin helped them pick out.

I smooth my dress on both sides, my butt still sore. But every pinch of pain pleasantly reminds me of how Trace rained down blow after blow on my bare ass. The sharp sting of white-hot pain mixed with a deep craving in my core to have him inside me. I begged him for that orgasm.

He was teeming with angst over me locking him up. God, I know I’m about to give in and let him fuck me.

Pushing all that away so I’m not standing here perspiring with raging hard nipples, I search for Balor who’d made a vow to stay single. Although, I heard his new female assistant has him going crazy. Across the room, sitting next to Eoghan, the tension in Balor’s shoulders can be seen from space.

Ha! I laugh. Another O’Rourke man is going to fall in love. At least, I hope it’s love. He deserves it. They all do. All while I hide my infertility problem, making me ineligible for a husband. A powerful one anyway. A man who will want children to carry on his legacy.

Just as I step to greet my brother, a pale green dress steals my attention. Balor’s assistant. I make my move to get five minutes with him.

“She’s here?” I whisper in his ear.

He turns to face me, a calm storm brewing behind his eyes. “Aye.”

“And her father works for you, too?” I ask, curious about the dynamic.

“They came as a package deal before I realized who she was. And considering what I did to her...” He rubs his forehead.

From his expression, it must have been intense indeed.

“Do you think her father would object to you dating her?” I gaze at who I assume is the father—older, dark hair, white beard. He’s handsome in a rough kind of way.

“Dating,” Balor huffs and spins me to face our brothers. “Have you not figured out that O’Rourke men don’t date? They possess .”

“So be different.” I nudge his arm, deciding I like matchmaking better than dealing with my own problems. “I can tell you like her. You didn’t blink an eye approving her shopping spree. And I saw just now how you looked at her.” I have a ton of money, but it would be nice if a man showered me for a change.

Who am I to give advice? My center throbs for Trace every night, and I don’t know what to do about it.

“Why are you watching me?” Balor sharpens his focus on my face.

“Maybe looking for the signs.” I shrug.

“Signs?”

“Of how a man who’s crazy about a woman is supposed to look at me.” My eyes beg to look at Trace.

“It will happen, Shea. When you least expect it,” he says with a kiss on my cheek.

Teasing my little brother calms me. I don’t think he knows about Trace and me. Or that what I’m looking for has already happened. Technically, I got married before any of my brothers. Except Darragh.

That green dress catches my eye again, and I have to ask Erin to find me something in that color.

But Balor’s woman just entered the dancefloor with another man. “Uh oh...”

My brother glances that way, and without a goodbye, he’s off, stomping his big feet to claim his woman .

Jealousy. I assume she’s playing a game. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t appreciate a woman toying with my brother, but Balor can handle himself. He’s been stubbornly resisting her.

She had no choice.

I take a breather and scan the room to find Trace’s eyes on me. It’s not the longing look of a man with nothing at stake. It’s his bodyguard face.

“Shea O’Rourke?” a woman pops into my vision out of nowhere.

I step back, alarm coursing through me. Only because I worry there’s something my brothers aren’t telling me if they insist I keep a full-time guard. “Yes?”

“I’m Celeste Marin, a coordinator with Lagerfeld Events.”

My spine snaps to attention. “How is Mrs. Lagerfeld?”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but she’s...”

I heard Rina Lagerfeld is retiring and will be looking for a top event planner with a following to take over her 5-star wedding planning business.

“Is it true that she’s looking to retire?” I say the words as a competitor so Celeste won’t be seen as divulging confidential information.

“There’s been speculation. Your name has come up a few times.”

“M... My name? For what?”

“To take over. Buy the business from her.”

My mind ticks through what I know about Rina Lagerfeld. She’s a widow with two sons who are lawyers, I think.

“Is she talking to anyone else?” I ask, knowing that’s cheating.

“A few have shown interest.” Celeste smooths her hair. “If she sells, it will be in the tens of millions. I don’t know any other party planner who can afford that. ”

My eyes flutter closed. Rina Lagerfeld must know I come from money. Mafia money. Although, I don’t care to be a foregone conclusion, which means I’ll pay top dollar.

“I would have to look at her books.” I.e. Eoghan would look at her books for me. “That’s standard for anyone wanting to buy a business.”

“Of course. I just wanted to introduce myself, and I’m a big admirer of yours. I did summer jobs in the Hamptons for caterers and a few country clubs. I hope if you work something out with Mrs. Lagerfeld, you’ll keep me on.”

My East Hampton business is thriving, but taking over Lagerfeld Events would mean full-time attention in Manhattan. Larke’s come into her own and can manage my Hamptons business.

“I’ll put a call into Mrs. Lagerfeld this week for an appointment.” I shake Celeste’s hand. “Thank for you the heads-up.”

When Celeste leaves, I see Balor dancing with his assistant. My other brothers hover with their wives nearby. I feel so damn alone in a room full of people. It’s choking.

Every eye on me feels judgy.

East Hampton might be a world away from Astoria, the kind of city my brothers run. Gritty with blue-collar workers, and small businesses, but to me, East Hampton and Manhattan are identical twins separated at birth. They may look differently with casual clothes, sipping summer cocktails on the weekend, but they are the same ruthless sharks in three-piece suits and tight dresses with stilettos slamming back single-malt scotches and dirty martinis during the week.

I’m not sure when this happened. It feels like just yesterday I was a cool thirty-year-old in killer dresses, and designer shoes driving a great car, with plenty of dating prospects. I settled for Archer. Stupid!

Then Trace and I met up in Vegas. I remember that day, that evening, the fun and flirty banter, before I drank too much. And I swear it clicked. He clicked for me. But he was a security agent working for the Irish government in Dublin. Hardly relationship material.

Didn’t stop him from marrying me. Or...consummating that marriage. I wish I could remember.

The music softens, signaling dinner will be starting soon. Kieran will notice if I’m upset. He seated me next to him with Lachlan on the other side. Their sheltering of me is an invisible cage. A glass box with a couple of holes for air.

Trace will sit at a table nearby with his cousins. Griffin, who works for Lachlan, Shane who works for Balor, and Connor, who works for Riordan.

With something pinching my heel, I make my way into the lobby to adjust a strap on my shoe in the lounge. Other guests are being seated for dinner, and the crowd has thinned out.

A couple crosses in front of me, hurrying to get to their tables.

After they pass, in my direct line of sight is...

Archer Crest.