Tempting Tricks (Tempting Nights #2)

Chapter Eleven

~Annabelle~

T he driver of the car I hired for the evening extends his hand to help me out of the back seat. I kick my black heeled foot out from under the layers of blood red tulle surrounding me and step onto the sidewalk. When both feet are on the ground, the driver releases his hold, handing me a card. “Just call me when you’re ready, Dr. Murphy.”

I take the card and slide it into my small, black velvet clutch, thanking him. I turn and stride through the entrance of the hotel, a Sapphire Resort. After stopping to check my fur wrap, I follow the signs to the ballroom. Not that I really need to. There are others dressed in gowns and tuxedos all headed in the same general direction, so I simply follow the herd.

I’m not sure why, but I’m nervous. I attended this function last year, but since I was on the arm of my now very ex- boyfriend, I suppose the added sense of security was present. And while I’m sure I could have found a date, I honestly didn’t mind going alone. I know, once I get inside, I’ll find colleagues to chat with, and if I’m lucky, maybe a few handsome, eligible bachelors to twirl around the dance floor with.

There’s a restroom right before the entrance to the ballroom, so I slip inside to do a final check of my makeup. I sweep a fresh coat of dark red lipstick over my mouth and fluff my hair. I spent three hours at Holly’s salon today getting the works—waxing, manicure, pedicure, and of course, my hair. Because my dress is strapless, she curled my tresses, leaving them soft and wavy down my back. For fun, she threw in some red colored highlights to match the dark, blood red shade of my dress. And the dress. This dress is everything. The top is a fitted, velvet corset with gorgeous matching silk ribbon that crisscrosses up the back. The front has a sweetheart neckline that exposes just enough to be sexy but not so much that it’s trashy. But the skirt, that is what I love. Layers and layers of soft, wispy tulle fall down to the floor, a short train flowing out behind me when I walk. I spin in a small circle before the mirror, smile once at my reflection, then leave the restroom.

The room is loud, buzzing with conversation and the soft orchestral music playing on a raised stage across the room. Locating a bar, I start in its direction, hoping to obtain just the smallest bit of liquid courage to get me started tonight.

“Annabelle Murphy?” a deep voice questions to my right.

I turn toward the voice, a wide smile lifting my cheeks. “Jack Thompson! ”

We walk toward each other, and he bends, placing a kiss on my cheek. “Annabelle Murphy.” He glances down to my left hand. “It is still Murphy?”

I laugh. “Yes, still Murphy.” I grasp onto his arm and give it a little shake. “It’s been a long time, Jack! What are you doing in New York?”

He nods, smiling, dimples exaggerating his already handsome face. “Years, I think.” He nods in the direction of the bar. “Were you headed that way? Would you like a drink?”

“I’d love one.”

He takes my hand, placing it in the crook of his arm, and walks with me to the bar, looking down at me. “Is it possible that you’ve gotten more beautiful over time?”

“I was just wondering the same thing about you,” I tease, thinking just how handsome he had, in fact, become with age. We grin at each other, turning our attention to the selection of cocktails at the bar.

“What would you like?” he asks, still holding my hand in his arm.

“Champagne, please.”

He signals the bartender and orders two. When we have our glasses in hand, he suggests finding a table to sit at. We find one only partially occupied and sit.

“So, tell me, what brings you to New York?” Bringing the glass to my lips, I take a sip, the taste sweet as bubbles pop below my nose.

He lowers his glass after taking a sip. “I was actually in town to do a lecture at the University Hospital and was invited to stay for the event. I had no plans for the weekend, so I thought, what the hell.” His cheeks dimple again as he meets my gaze. “And I think I’m glad I did.”

“I’m going to assume you aren’t married either then?” I lift a brow, hiding my curiosity behind my glass as I take another sip.

“Not anymore.” One side of his mouth curls into a lopsided smile.

We spend the next fifteen minutes chatting, both of us finishing our drinks. He offers to go get us two more, which I gratefully accept. My eyes sweep across the expanse of the room, taking in all the sights, sounds, and colors. It’s been several minutes, so I glance in the direction of the bar, looking for Jack. My breath catches in my throat when I lock eyes with the very last person I ever expected to be here. We stare at each other, my heart galloping against my breast bone, until a very tall, very beautiful woman steps between us and slides an arm around his waist.

Holy shit. I stand and grasp onto my clutch. I need to leave. There is absolutely no way I can be in the same vicinity as him. I’m about to turn when, suddenly, Jack is standing beside me. I must have a bewildered look on my face because one of concern appears on his features. “Are you okay, Annabelle?”

“Oh, yes.” I force a smile in his direction. “I’m not feeling well all of a sudden. I think maybe the champagne isn’t agreeing with me.”

He moves to place our drinks on the table then takes me by the elbow. “Here, let me help you. Can I get you a cab? See you home?”

Jesus, why does he have to be so perfect? And what in the hell is god damn Patrick Connors doing here? “I’ll be fine. I have a car waiting.” I tip up on my toes and drop a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for being such a gentleman. It was lovely catching up with you.”

“Here.” He reaches inside his coat pocket, extracting a business card. “Call me when you’re feeling better.” He gives me a small smile. “I’m only a short flight away. I’d love to see you again.”

I take the card and nod. “That would be lovely.” I squeeze his hand once then release it as I turn and walk away. I’m trying not to scurry like a mouse, but I feel like, at any moment, there will be a snap and I’ll be trapped. I make it to the exit of the ballroom, breathing a sigh of relief as I sweep through the doors. I stop several feet down the hall to fish in my clutch for my phone and the driver’s card.

“Running away?” My hand freezes, every hair on my body prickling at the sound of his voice. “I didn’t even get to ask you for a dance.” His footsteps come to a stop directly behind me. “You look radiant in this dress.” His fingers brush across my shoulder then trail down my arm, wrapping around my elbow. He pulls, turning my body to face him.

“You look beautiful.” His eyes are adoring as he releases my elbow, lifting his palm to my cheek, my voice apparently lost. He slides his hand through my hair to cup the back of my head and leans toward me.

I think he’s going to kiss me, but instead, he inhales deeply, pressing his nose against the top of my head. My lids flutter shut as the heat of his breath blows against my forehead. After a moment, he looks down at me, my eyes meeting his. His face is only two inches from mine. “You didn’t come. ”

My brow creases as I squint, confusion swirling through me. I open my mouth to speak, close it, then open it again. “What?”

He grips the back of my head tighter, pulling me another inch closer, his voice low. “I’m not your client anymore. I thought you would come to see me.”

My eyes dart to his lips then back up to his irises, green and bright. “I just—” My mouth feels so dry. I swallow. “I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

He scoffs, letting go of me as he takes a step back, crossing his arms. Jesus, he looks good in a tux. “Why did you quit as my therapist then?”

I shake my head, stuttering. “I-I didn’t think we were a good fit.”

He uncrosses his arms, stepping into my space again. “Liar. You’re attracted to me. As much as I am to you. That’s why you came to the club looking for me that night. That’s why you quit as my therapist. And it’s why I practically made you come on your desk when I kissed you.”

He’s right. Every single thing he’s saying is true. I do want him. I want him to throw me over his knee again. Spank me. Thrust his fingers into me. I want him to drive his cock into me as I scream out his name. But I’ve never been the aggressor. Ever. I have no idea how to deal with a man like him. I glance up, not brave enough to utter even one of these things.

Hissing in frustration, he grips my forearms. “Why won’t you say anything?”

“I want you,” I confess on a whisper, peeking up under my lashes. My cheeks flush from the heat flaring beneath my skin .

“Then leave with me.” His hold on me softens.

“Now?” My pulse quickens at the thought. He isn’t my patient anymore. Then I remember the woman who wrapped her arm around him at the bar. “Aren’t you here with someone?”

“Shit.” He stomps backward and rakes a hand through his hair. “Yes, but it’s not what you think. She’s a friend.”

“A very attractive friend,” I mumble.

He pushes me, forcing my back against the wall, and slams his mouth over my lips, his hands locking around my face. I gasp, giving his tongue all the permission it needs to sweep inside and duel with mine as he presses his body flush to mine. The kiss is almost brutal in its intensity, passion overriding any doubts I just had. As suddenly as the kiss began, it stops with him tearing away from me, growling. “She’s a friend. And she has absolutely nothing on you.”

“Okay.”

“Trick?” It’s a woman’s tentative voice.

“Fuck.” He drops his hands from my face and spins around, blocking the woman from view, and addresses her. “Charlie, I’m sorry.”

“Is everything okay?”

I wipe my fingers around my lips, hoping my lipstick isn’t smeared over half my face, and step out from behind my hiding spot. I’m startled when I realize this isn’t the same woman he was with at the bar, even more so by the fact that she’s quite pregnant. “Excuse me, I’ll let you two talk.”

I start to step away, but a strong grip clutches my wrist. “Don’t go. This will only take a minute. ”

“Really, it’s fine.” I yank my wrist from his grasp. “I was leaving anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” The other woman walks up to me. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She gives me a warm smile. “I just wanted to let Trick know I’m tired and that Gabby will drop me off if he wants to stay.”

“Do you want me to take you?” He steps closer to her, concern drawing his brows low.

“Don’t be silly.” She motions toward the ballroom. “Gabby was looking for any excuse to leave so she can go abuse her cop.” Her eyes dart from him to me and then back to him. “It looks like you’re in the middle of something anyway.”

“I don’t need Trey trying to rip my dick off later if you don’t get home safely,” he grumbles.

“I have a New York City police officer escorting me home, Trick. What could be safer?” She laughs. “I’m fine. Go.” She shoos him away from her then looks over at me as she walks away. “Take good care of him.”

He’s in front of me before I can blink, his hand reaching for mine. “Let’s go.”

“I have a driver,” I state.

“Call him.”

He waits as I pull out my phone and the card for the driver. I dial the number, my fingers shaking, and tell him I’m ready. “He’ll be out front in five minutes.”

“Okay. Do you have a jacket? A wrap?”

I nod. “At the coat check. Near the entrance.”

“Come.” He slides an arm around my waist and guides me in that direction. When we reach the counter, I hand the attendant my ticket. She returns in seconds, exchanging my wrap for a ten that Patrick hands her. He swings the wrap around my shoulders, pulling it closed at my neck, his eyes locking onto mine. “That’s the last time tonight I plan on putting something on you instead of taking it off.”

I lick my lips, nodding as he puts his arm around me and guides me outside to the waiting car, where I wonder if I’m making the best or the worst decision of my life.