Trick's Trap (A Singular Obsession Book 5)

by Lucy Leroux

They collapsed in a sweaty tangle of limbs, her fingernails digging into his back. Patrick’s steely arms slowly loosened their grip, his softening length sliding out, letting a cooling trickle leak out of her.

  Soft kisses rained over her eyelids and lips. A few minutes later, Patrick went for a towel. She lay prone on the bed, still too weak to move as he lovingly cleaned her with a warm washcloth.

  He’s polishing me like I’m the silver. She giggled.

  The bed dipped. His heat wrapped around her again. “Let’s get married.”

  “What?”

  Tahlia jerked, her eyes flying open just in time to get kissed in the eye. “Ow.”

  She clapped a hand over the smarting eye, tears streaming.

  Patrick winced. “Sorry…but I’m serious. We should get married as soon as possible. Today if we can.”

  She coughed, suddenly having a hard time getting air into her lungs. Once she could talk again, she laughed. “You’re insane.”

  He didn’t laugh with her. His eyes burned like coals as one of his fingers traced her cheek.

  “Tahlia, I know you don’t have much basis for comparison, but this is not normal. What we have is special. More than special. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love…and I don’t want to lose it.”

  She could barely speak; her throat was thick with more trapped tears. “I—I don’t want to lose it either. And I can see us spending the rest of our lives together, but…”

  “We’re not going to let your family get in our way. This is right.”

  Her lip quirked. “Will Liam and Maggie see it that way? Won’t they kill you for getting married without them?”

  “They’ll get over it,” he promised.

  She sighed, guilt eating her alive. “I can’t.”

  His eyes flashed. “Is it because of your family or is it me? Because if it’s your family, fuck them. Those crazy assholes don’t get to dictate your life. But if it’s me you’re not sure about, tell me now so I can change your mind.”

  She chuckled half-heartedly, even if it wasn’t funny. Part of her wanted to lie, to tell him she didn’t love him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  Tahlia had been born in a world full of secrets and lies. Nobody knew better than she did—there were some lies that couldn’t be told. If they were, there was no going back, no way to make it right after.

  She stared at his beautiful dark eyes. “I need to find a way to get my family to leave me alone first. Otherwise, I’ll be a prisoner the rest of my life. And that will make you one, too. I don’t want that for you.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she forestalled him by covering his mouth. “I’m not saying no. I want to find a way out from under this. That’s why I came here. I had this half-baked idea I could make enough money to do something—fight back.”

  There was an adorable pucker between Patrick’s dark brows. “Money I’ve got. It’s all yours if you need it. What were you planning on?”

  “Nothing solid. I…”

  He ran his hand up her arm. “You can tell me anything. Maybe I can help.”

  She bit her upper lip. “I was thinking I should go on the offensive. But for that, I needed money. I made a bit so far, but I’m going to need a lot more.”

  He frowned. “Do you want to sue them?”

  “Err…no. I want to frame them for murder and then blackmail them into leaving me alone.”

  His eyes widened. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I want to frame them for my father’s murder.”

  “The one they actually committed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you think we should try and stick to legal courses of action? We just have to try to find evidence of the real crime.”

  Tahlia couldn’t decide if that was naive or a sign of Patrick’s inherent decency. She hated to sully that integrity with all her baggage.

  “It won’t exist. Trust me, I’ve been dealing with these people my entire life. They know how to cover their tracks. Even if my father’s death was messy and unexpected, they have so much money, so much power, it would be impossible to find anything that could help us.”

  He leaned over, pressing a hard and unexpected kiss to her lips.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “For acknowledging it is our problem.”

  His lips compressed, a calculating expression darkening his eyes. “Do you think framing them could work?”

  Tahlia shook her head. “Not really, but if you’re contemplating my stupid plan, then you’re as desperate as I am. No matter what dirty trick I came up with, my uncle Lucas would come up with something worse.”

  He rubbed her back. “We’ll think of something. In the meantime, we shouldn’t let your family get in the way of our future. In fact, getting married to me might make them think twice about coming after you.”

  “How conveniently you forget they threatened you this time.”

  “I can take care of myself. And not to brag, I’m connected to some powerful people. Never discount the advantages of influential friends.”

  He rolled over, letting the sheet slip off him. As usual, there wasn’t a trace of shyness or discomfort over his nudity.

  Why should he be ashamed? Patrick had a glorious body. He was tall and lean, fitter and more handsome than most models.

  “For now, I think we should forget about your family. We’re in one of my most favorite places in the world, and you have only scratched the surface of what it has to offer. Why don’t we get dressed and go enjoy Monte Carlo?”

  His bright enthusiasm chipped away at her misgivings and apprehension. “That sounds wonderful. Where do we start?”

  He grinned. “With showers, but I’ll take mine first.”

  “You don’t want company?” This was new.

  “I do. I really, really do. But you should call Maia and Peyton.” He reached over and took his phone from his pants. “Do it from this. They’re expecting your call.”

  Guilt swamped her. “Are they okay?”

  He avoided her eyes. “Peyton’s fine. Just a little worried.”

  Oh, no. “What about Maia?”

  He handed her the phone. “She’s back on bedrest.”

  “But she was off bedrest the last time I spoke to her!” Maia had even had lunch at the hotel a few days before Gina came to see her. Had Tahlia’s action stressed her out so much she needed to be confined to her bed again?

  “Stop that. It’s not your fault,” he said. “Maia’s just tiny, and she’s married to a large man. Calen towers over her. And since it’s a boy this time, one that is obviously taking after his father, prolonged bedrest was inevitable. Don’t worry. Calen has the best doctors watching over her.”

  Her breath caught. “It’s a boy?”

  He grinned and tapped the phone. “Call her now. She won’t care about the time change.” With that, he bounded off the bed, heading for the shower.

  Tahlia spent the next hour groveling for forgiveness on the phone. Both Peyton and Maia were far too easy on her. They absolved her of any culpability for running out on them again. But she still felt awful when she was done.

  It took Patrick less than an hour to put a smile back on her face. And he managed to do it without sex! she thought, beaming as he took her to the Terrasses de Fontvieille to view the royal car collection.

  A racing enthusiast, Patrick went on and on about the Grand Prix, the famous formula-one race that wound through the narrow streets of the principality. Tahlia enjoyed the classic cars, but she was absolutely transported when he somehow finagled the keys to a vintage Porsche RSK Spyder.

  “Don’t worry. This isn’t part of the normal collection,” he assured her. “I rented this for a few days from a local dealer. You can drive it around to the end of the lot. After, I’ll take over and we can do the whole Grand Prix circuit!”

  “But Patrick, I don’t even know how to drive a regular car,” she confessed once the attendant who’d given him the keys was a s
afe distance.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “Just take it nice and easy. And step lightly on the gas.”

  He proceeded to give her more instructions, pointing out the clutch and pedals and explaining how different the race car handled from normal vehicles.

  Jerking in fits and starts, Tahlia managed to drive the insanely rare vehicles a few dozen yards from where she’d started. She was relieved when they switched, and Patrick took the wheel. He zipped through the amazingly windy roads with natural ease. They went through the tunnel under the Fairmont Hotel and lapped the gorgeous harbor full of gleaming white boats.

  For the next few days, Patrick showed her Monaco the way it was meant to be experienced. They walked the streets of Old Town, shopping and eating their way across the city. At night, Tahlia donned spectacular gowns. They wiled away the time gambling before retiring to her hotel suite to make love for hours.

  Tahlia initially believed Patrick would want to dismiss the bodyguards she hired, but she was wrong.

  “I think hiring them was smart,” he said when she asked over breakfast a few days into his stay. “I took the liberty of making a few calls, and they’re both solid professionals. I think they can be trusted.”

  “You checked them out?” She shouldn’t have been surprised. Patrick wasn’t the kind of man who left anything to chance.

  He mumbled something, but his manner was a little evasive. “Is there something else?”

  “You didn’t tell them about your family.”

  Her throat was suddenly tight, which was unfortunate as she tried to swallow a large bite of omelet. She gulped juice to help it go down and cleared her throat. “But you did.”

  Patrick reached for her hand. “Tahlia, they needed to know. It’s important they be aware of the nature of the threat to you. Based on what you told them, they assumed this was a routine job protecting a high roller when it’s not.” He leaned back in his chair. “Your bodyguards need all the information about the past attacks and the resources your family might throw at them.

  She stared down at her half-finished plate. “I didn’t think about it that way. God, they must hate me for putting them in danger. I should have known better than to drag more people into my mess. I have to apologize to them.”

  Patrick shook his head. “I’m not saying that. You did the right thing hiring them. And honestly, I think those guys can handle this. But forewarned is forearmed. They should be prepared. Not that anything is going to happen. Who in your family would expect you to be here of all places?” He gestured to the sumptuous suite around them.

  Tahlia still felt terrible. “I should have told them. I just don’t like talking about my family.”

  “I know, Ace.”

  She put her fork down, her appetite gone. “I was supposed to stay pure…”

  He blinked at her. “What?”

  “They kept boys and then men away from me. For the longest time, I thought I was going to be sold into the rich people’s equivalent of white slavery—marriage to some rich old guy who would slap me around. I thought my virginity was a commodity to them. Now I think what they want is so much worse. And the kicker is if my brother hadn’t died, my dad would have been okay with whatever it was… I don’t think he even registered I was his child until both my brother and stepmother were gone, and he had no one else.”

  His smile was confused. “I know your whole world in Florida was messed up, but I have to believe your father was proud of you. I mean, you got your doctorate in math from Harvard for Pete’s sake.”

  Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I don’t have the Ph.D. yet.”

  “You do now. It came in the mail.”

  “It did?” Well, that was something.

  “Yes. And one more thing—sex doesn’t make you impure. There’s nothing you can do that can change the goodness in your heart.”

  Tahlia tossed a strawberry at him. “Here’s something to go with that cheese.”

  He tossed it right back, his aim infallible. It landed in her cleavage.

  Patrick grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. He reached for her. “Here, let me help you with that.”

  They got a very late start that morning.

  “Where did you get this?” Tahlia asked.

  Patrick had surprised her with a trip to the harbor in the afternoon after they’d finally gotten out of bed. A sleek wooden speedboat gleamed in the bright sunlight. It looked like something that should be zipping along Venetian canals.

  He shrugged. “I know a guy. I thought we could meander along the coast for an hour or so until the sun sets. Then we can go to this amazing little bistro a friend recommended for dinner.”

  He gestured to the two guards who’d accompanied them. “Alfonse spent some time in the navy, so he’s going to drive while we split a bottle of this walnut wine and Armagnac aperitif I just discovered. Nolan’s going to wait here and do whatever you do when there’s only room for three in a boat.”

  “Sounds good.” She giggled, letting him help her climb into the glossy cherry wood craft.

  Sorry, she mouthed at the guards. She didn’t know what was worse, being forced to watch her and Patrick be lovey-dovey or to get left behind entirely.

  Nolan waved them off as Alfonse took the wheel with a surety that let her safely focus on Patrick.

  He opened one of the wooden panels to reveal a miniature bar.

  Tahlia stroked the fine leather of the seat. “This boat is incredible.”

  “If you want it, I’ll buy it for you.”

  Tahlia scoffed as he handed her a small chilled glass of a brown liquid. “You can’t buy me everything I like.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  She shook her head at his irrepressible cheek.

  He toasted her with the little aperitif glass. “Have you given any more thought to the future—aside from being married to me and having two or three of my babies…”

  She choked and coughed, spitting out a little of the wine. “Can we just get married first?”

  His eyes lit up. “So you accept?”

  Frowning, she dabbed at the front of her dress with a napkin. “I thought I already had.”

  He cocked his head, a corner of his mouth lifting rakishly. “No, actually you didn’t. Not yet.”

  A shiver passed through her, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one. “Except for getting into school, I’ve never planned ahead for more than a week or two. Part of me was afraid to. I wasn’t sure I was going to get a chance to have much a future, not one I got to decide myself.”

  He inhaled, gesturing to the harbor around them. “I’ve never been much of a planner either. I wouldn’t have a hotel chain if not for my brother. He made the plans for world domination, and I would carry them out. I never gave my personal future much thought. Now it’s all I can think about.”

  His gaze sharpened, the intensity threatening to singe her skin. “As for your family, what is it they say about getting back at someone? Living a good life is the best revenge.”

  Patrick pulled her close. “If your life is with me, I can promise something better than good. You deserve extraordinary.”

  Tahlia ducked her head, her cheeks hot. “Maybe planning ahead isn’t such a bad idea.”

  His response was drowned out by a deafening boom.

  Chapter 27

  Trick hit the cold water of the Mediterranean with Tahlia in his arms. His brain registered the roar of the explosion a split second before his muscles reacted. He’d tightened his grip on the woman in his arms and bunched his thighs to launch them in the air. They’d gone over the side of the boat together.

  Tahlia coughed, swallowing water and sputtering.

  “Are you okay?” he yelled, letting go of Tahlia so she could tread water beside him.

  She nodded her face milky white. The boat was a smoking pile in front of them. The entire engine block was burning—although the rear passenger area was still intact. Shit. How the hell had that happened?

  His first thought
was sabotage, the culprits Tahlia’s family. But they were still alive. If this was an assignation attempt, it failed. The explosion hadn’t completely obliterated the boat.

  “Alfonse! Where’s Alfonse?” Tahlia cried out, pumping her arms hard to keep her head above water.

  “I don’t know. Wait here.” Trick pressed a hard kiss to her forehead before diving down under the wreck in search of the missing bodyguard. He surfaced on the other side, the salt water stinging his eyes.

  The wide body of the bodyguard was floating on the other side of the burning speedboat.

  Fuck!

  Trick swam toward, his strokes strong and sure. He pulled on Alfonse’s shoulders, relieved to see the man grimace.

  Cloudy pain-filled eyes blinked at him.

  “I think I dislocated my shoulder,” Alfonse said, a trickle of blood running down from his hairline. Little red droplets sprinkled his face, which was peppered with shards of glass from the windshield.

  Trick swore, yelling for Tahlia. She paddled around the boat and he panicked, immediately second-guessing himself. “No! Let’s get as far from it as we can.”

  If this was sabotage, there might be a second explosion.

  “We have to try to swim to shore.”

  Tahlia’s face fell as she turned to the shore, rapidly calculating the distance. “I don’t know if I can make it. I failed the Harvard swim test. I don’t know how to swim real strokes.”

  Trick slung an arm under Alfonse, towing him along as he swam toward Tahlia. “It’s going to be okay,” he lied, wondering how the hell he was going to get them to the marina.

  “Alfonse, can you manage on your own?” Maybe the man could float on his back, and Tahlia could hold on to him while he towed them back to shore.

  Alfonse nodded, making a valiant effort to swim a one-armed sidestroke. He’d gone less than four feet before Trick changed his mind.

  “Hold up,” he said, positioning Tahlia so she was treading water closer to Alfonse. He spun round to face the boat. Was he fast enough?

  I don’t have a choice. He needed to get to the lifejackets.

  He was kicking himself for not putting one on Tahlia to begin with, but he’d been too wrapped up in his plans for the perfect sunset cruise so he could ask for her hand in marriage again.