Second Chance Temptation

“I’m not asking you to glue yourself to my side, Tanna. I just need you to move in here, to help with some meals, to drive me to work and back.”

“You are not nearly ready to go back to work,” Tanna told him, her tone as bossy as hell. Levi raised his eyebrows at her assertiveness.

“But I will be, soon. I heal fast,” Levi retorted, not willing to get into an argument about something that wasn’t going to happen today, or even tomorrow. “Anyway, as I was saying, I need you for a couple of hours a day, to be on call if I need you. The rest of the time will be your own.”

“Good of you.”

Levi refused to let her see his quick smile. Assertive and sarcastic. Better and better. And he was glad. If Tanna was the same timid, eager-to-please girl she’d been, he probably wouldn’t be making this offer, wouldn’t be half as interested in that version as he was in this.

At twenty-four he’d been happy to have his ego stroked; at thirty-four he liked women who pushed back, who weren’t afraid to speak their minds.

He was surrounded by strong, gutsy, opinionated women and if he ever came to the point of considering another relationship—an exceedingly remote possibility—he wanted someone who could stand on her own two feet, who was prepared to make her own mistakes and live with them.

Being the voice of reason when his dad’s ambition outstripped his common sense, Levi couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t felt responsible for protecting his mom and sisters. When his dad died, Levi oversaw the sale of Brogan LLC and he personally managed the billions in the family trust.

He did, he admitted, have a strong rescue gene. But his mom and sisters were perfectly able to look after themselves and while they were happy for him to manage their family money, he’d been told, repeatedly, he didn’t need to worry about their emotional well-being.

They had their own alpha men doing enough hovering, thank you very much.

He still felt protective of them; he probably always would. But he was smart enough not to tell them that. But they were his blood, a part of his psyche. Tanna—or any other woman—did not warrant that much of his soul. It hurt far too much when they handed it back to him, battered and bruised.

God, enough with the melodrama, Brogan.

This was a straight-up deal. He needed someone. Tanna owed him, and while he’d never be verbally abusive to her or any other woman, with her he wouldn’t have to pretend he wasn’t in pain, frustrated or pissed off. He could just be because, dammit, there was nothing she could do to hurt him again.

“A couple of meals, a couple of rides, a little light housekeeping, that’s all I need you for.” Levi shifted in his seat and pain barreled through him, digging its claws into his body, and it took everything he had not to allow her to see how weak and miserable it made him feel. He’d been vulnerable once with her. He’d never allow her to look beneath his surface again.

A tiny frown appeared between her eyebrows. “You’re in pain.”

Dammit, what had happened to his impenetrable mask? Not wanting to give her an inch, he made a sound he hoped sounded like a scoff. “Please.”

“God save me from stubborn men,” Tanna muttered.

“I’m fine, Murphy.” Such a lie.

Dropping his head back, Levi fought to keep his eyes open, cursing himself for feeling so tired. Sometimes he managed to ignore the pain and drift off and he felt this might be one of those times. His battered body needed sleep to recover but he didn’t want to fall asleep now, not in front of Tanna. If he did, she’d leave and he might never see her again.

He wouldn’t get any payback if she did that.

Levi forced his eyes open and gripped her wrist. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

Tanna shook her head. “Probably not.”

Disappointment, hot and sour, rocketed through him. Why did he care? She meant nothing to him, not anymore.

Tanna didn’t try to pull her wrist from his grip and her skin was so soft, so smooth. He thought he heard her sigh and her voice, when she spoke, came from a long way away. “I have things to do. I need to talk to my brothers, explain what I’ll be doing here. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. Sleep now, Levi.”

Levi hoped, for the first time in a decade, he’d see her again. But only because, he sternly reminded himself as he drifted off, he needed help and she owed him.

And because he really, really, really wanted to see her naked.

Like that other famous auction house on the other side of the pond, Murphy’s boasted a canvas portico in front of its main entrance with Murphy International written in white across the bloodred canvas. It was simple, effective and attractive, and Tanna felt the familiar kick of pride as she stared up at the letters spelling her surname.

Her great-grandfather started the company, passed it on to her grandfather, then to her father and now her brothers were running the world-famous auction house with satellite offices across the world.

She was the only Murphy who’d ever stepped away, who was working in a completely different field.

The thought made her sad.

Tanna jammed her hands into the pockets of her coat, conscious of her heart beating out of her chest. Just like always, she’d planned to avoid Murphy’s, but she needed to talk to Carrick and he was, if she remembered correctly, leaving for Tokyo shortly. She needed to tell him she was moving out of the Beacon Hill house, moving in with Levi...

But only to help him, of course.

She definitely could not tell her brother she hoped, as insane as it sounded, that somehow, some way, she and Levi would finally get naked and she’d find out what making love with her ex-fiancé felt like.

She’d spent many nights imagining the way his hands would feel on her skin, how strong and hard he’d be when he pushed into her, filling up those empty and desperate spaces no man had ever managed to fill.

She needed to know because, honestly, her sexual education was incomplete.

She and Levi were done, over, their time had passed...

But, not having slept with him, Tanna was convinced there was a puzzle piece missing, like she’d never quite seen the complete picture. Like she’d never read the last chapter in a sad but compelling story.

Tanna heard the incoming message on her phone and pulled it out of her pocket. She swiped the screen and read the text from Carrick.

Security just warned me about a suspicious-looking woman casing the joint. Get your ass in here before you get arrested.

Tanna grinned. She knew Murphy’s security firm employed facial recognition software and she’d been identified within a few seconds of arriving at the entrance. Carrick was just yanking her chain.

Tanna greeted the doorman and walked inside the iconic building, her boots echoing on the polished concrete floor. In front of her was the concierge, and to the left and right were the main viewing rooms.

Tanna was a frequent visitor to Murphy’s website and knew there was an upcoming auction of Henry Moore sculptures and a collection of vintage clothing and accessories. She wanted to lose herself in both exhibitions but she knew she couldn’t afford to step inside either room—there were too many memories here that she wasn’t quite ready to deal with.

Tanna watched as a young woman wearing a black pencil skirt and sky-high red heels half ran up the marble steps leading to the private offices on the floors above. She pushed down a wave of envy. How lucky that woman was to be working here, to be interacting with art lovers, with collectors, with the beautiful objects. How fortunate she was to be immersed in art, surrounded by beauty.

She could be you. You worked here, before you left. You chose to leave, Tanna Murphy, nobody chased you away.

Tanna had left because she didn’t have a right to live her dream life, the life she’d been born to. Addy’d never had that chance and it was Tanna’s fault. For Addy she had to do more, be better, be useful.

Art was lovely but it wasn’t important...

She shouldn’t have come back here. She should’ve just called Carrick...

Feeling sad and emotional and teary-eyed, Tanna ran up one flight of stairs, through a security door and up another flight of stairs. Her feet took her down the hallway to Carrick’s large, third-floor office and after greeting Marsha, Carrick’s PA, she knocked on his partially open door.