Second Chance Temptation

by Joss Wood

  This was like arguing with his dad all over again.

  “It sure as hell couldn’t hurt,” he muttered.

  Levi tried to rein in his impatience and tried to even out his voice. “If I knew you loved your job, that it excited you, that it energized you, I could understand your wanting to return to London. But you don’t. You’re just going through the motions, trying to assuage your guilt, to make amends for something that wasn’t your fault.”

  “She died, Levi! Because I was drunk and asked her to drive.”

  He heard the panic in her voice and shook his head. “She died because it was an accident, sweetheart. A horrible accident. Please stop punishing yourself.”

  Levi jammed his bunched fists into the pockets of his track pants. Although he already knew what her answer would be, he knew he had to ask. Just once.

  “Don’t go, Tanna. Stay here, with me.”

  Tanna didn’t reply but her silence was answer enough.

  He’d argued his position, tried to make her see the situation from his perspective, had been forceful in his opinions. But Tanna had held her position, she hadn’t moved an inch.

  He’d failed to control the rapidly deteriorating situation...

  She was running away, again. From him, today. And he had to let her.

  He had to let her leave. The thought hit him with the impact of a punch to his heart and, feeling a little unsteady, he locked his knees.

  He knew that keeping her here—even if he could do that, and he couldn’t—wasn’t fair to either of them. She had to figure this out herself.

  He wanted to be her choice; he wanted to be her person. She was his, she always had been, but he was an all-or-nothing type of guy; he didn’t want to live with doubt—hers, his, theirs.

  He had to let her go.

  She’d run the last time, but this time he needed to respect her enough, love her enough, to stop trying to control her.

  He’d lived without her once, he could do it again. How, he didn’t have the smallest clue, but he would. What other choice did he have?

  Levi stared down at the hardwood floors beneath his feet and gathered his courage, prepared to give Tanna the one thing she needed the most, unconditional acceptance, tangible support.

  “Tan, baby, look at me.”

  Levi waited until her tearstained eyes met his and he fought the urge to sweep her into his arms, to love all that pain away.

  But he couldn’t, not this time. “Tan...go.”

  Tanna jerked back and her sexy mouth fell open in complete shock. “What did you say?”

  Levi knew she’d heard him. “Go back to London, Tan.”

  “But...I thought...you... Crap.” Tanna threw up her hands, obviously frustrated. “I thought you wanted me to stay in Boston, for us to be together?”

  He did, as much as he wanted his heart to keep pumping. “You know I do, but I don’t want you here if that’s not what you want too. I only want you in Boston, back with me, if there’s nowhere else you want to be, nothing else you want to do.”

  “I’ll always want to work, Levi.”

  She wasn’t understanding him. “I don’t care what you do for work. I just care whether you love it. Whether doing it every day makes you happy. Don’t you understand that your happiness is all I care about?” Levi sucked in some air and forced himself to smile. “I’d rather you be in London, doing whatever the hell you want, than being miserable with me, Tan.”

  “Lee...”

  No, damn, he was done here. He couldn’t do this anymore, he was done with being strong. She needed to leave...

  So did he.

  Levi stepped forward, dropped a kiss on Tanna’s temple and rubbed his thumb, just once more, over her full bottom lip. “For God’s sake, be happy, Tan. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

  Levi picked up his crutches, jammed them under his arms and headed for the door.

  * * *

  Levi sat on the expensive leather sofa facing his father’s portrait, needing to be in the room where he’d last seen Tanna.

  Sometimes he closed his eyes and imagined her standing by the window, the weak winter sun turning her hair the color of a raven’s wing. He could still see her perfect profile, smell her subtle perfume.

  She was in his thoughts, his dreams, the place his mind went to every minute of the day.

  He more than missed her—he craved her, longed for her. Hell, why not just be pathetic and admit that he was pining for her? It was like she’d sucked every shade of color from his life...

  Melodramatic much, Brogan?

  If he didn’t pull himself together, he’d soon find himself reading Romeo and Juliet and watching those cry-me-a-river breakup movies.

  Levi heard the door open behind him and didn’t bother to look around. It would either be his mother or one of his annoying sisters, none of whom he wanted to see. If he couldn’t be with Tanna then he just wanted to be alone.

  Yep, definitely pathetic.

  Levi looked at his father’s portrait and ignored his mom sitting down next to him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Levi felt her concerned eyes on his face.

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Physically maybe,” Callie conceded. “Your shoulder is healed, and you can move around without pain. Your body heals quickly, Lee.”

  He knew she was waiting for him to respond, but because he was both stubborn and obstinate, he didn’t. He’d bet the contents of his bank account that his mom had more to say. And she would—she didn’t need any encouragement from him.

  “Your heart takes forever to heal.”

  Yep, there it was. His mom was trying to get into his head. He was almost too tired, too heartsick to care. “Whatever, Mom.”

  Callie poked him in the thigh with a rather sharp nail. “Don’t you whatever me, Levi Ray Brogan.”

  Callie folded her arms and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her looking at his father’s portrait. “Your dad. God, he drove me nuts.”

  Levi frowned at the hint of annoyance he heard in her voice. He wasn’t going to ask, he really wasn’t...

  Luckily Callie offered an explanation before his pride took a beating. “Your dad was this big, bright, bold force of energy who loved to be loved. And I did love him, Levi.”

  Levi turned to look at Callie and, seeing her distress, rested his big hand on her knee. “I’ve never had any doubt about that, Mom. You grieved him for a long time.”

  Callie nodded. “I did. But when he died, I also grieved the person I was, the person I could’ve been.”

  Levi half turned, putting his shoulder into the back of the couch. “I don’t understand...”

  Callie’s smile was soft. “One of the reasons Mason and I took some time to come together was because I didn’t know who I was without your dad—there’d never been a me without him. I didn’t know if I could be me, without Ray.”

  “Yet, I could only ever be me. I couldn’t be the person he wanted me to be,” Levi murmured.

  Callie threaded her fingers through his, her eyes sad. “He’d agree his greatest failing was you, Lee. All our fights were always about you.”

  He’d not known that, and it added another layer of guilt to the heavy load he carried. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  Callie’s grip on his hand tightened. “Oh, no, that was on your dad, not you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I was so mad at him, so often. I hated the risks he took, his lack of control. I hated him worrying you, putting everything we had at risk. He’s been dead for a long time but I’m still so angry that I couldn’t get through to him, that he was so damn impulsive and impetuous.”

  “But that’s not the only reason why you’re angry with him,” Callie said, her voice low and sad.

  “I’m pretty sure that it is, Mom.”

  Ca
llie turned to face him, her beautiful face tight with tension. “You never forgave your father for nearly killing you all by driving too fast and spinning out.”

  Levi stared at her, conscious his heart was in his throat and his stomach was tying itself up in knots. He swallowed but his throat didn’t clear so he swallowed again.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about, Mom.”

  “Yes, you do, Lee.”

  It was a memory he’d pushed down deep, something he, very deliberately, chose not to remember. He had been young, five or six, and he remembered the music blaring, the huge smiles on the twins’ faces and his dad flinging them around the sharp corners of a long forgotten road, speeding up every time the twins yelled for him to go faster. Levi had screamed at Ray to slow down, begging him to brake and yelling repeatedly that they were going to crash.

  His father had mocked him for being a scaredy-cat and told him that his sisters had more guts than he did. His sisters had been too young to realize the danger they were in.

  Then Ray lost control of his car and Levi remembered them spinning and spinning and spinning...

  Levi scrubbed his hands over his face, recalling the dust, the sharp whine of the car scraping along the barrier, the twins’ soft sobs and his father’s white face. The long drop below them when they finally, finally came to a standstill.

  Ray begged Levi not to tell Callie and he stopped trusting his father that day.

  “He nearly killed us, Mom. It was so damn close.” Levi croaked the words out. “He said I shouldn’t tell you, that it would upset you terribly. After all, we were all fine.”

  Callie shook her head. “Your father couldn’t live with himself and he did tell me, about three months after it happened. I was so mad at him and we didn’t talk for weeks, months.” Callie rested her forehead on his shoulder. “That’s why you are so protective of the twins, why you never, really, trusted your father’s decisions, about anything, again.”

  Her statement made sense. His lack of trust in his dad had been born that afternoon.

  “Every time he took a risk, I think I was subliminally reminded of that summer afternoon and I hated him for it,” Levi admitted. “And maybe I overreacted at some of the things he did—maybe they weren’t as bad as I thought.”

  “Oh, most were,” Callie admitted. “Risk-taking was his nature, Lee. Nothing you did or said would’ve changed him.”

  Callie leaned into him, her head on the ball of his shoulder. “For what it’s worth and no matter what you think, he was extraordinarily proud of you, Lee.”

  Levi rested his head on his mother’s. “That’s good to know, Mom.”

  “But it’s not what’s keeping you up at night, right?”

  Levi managed to smile. “No, it’s not.” He shrugged, looking past Callie’s sympathetic face to the wet, miserable day beyond the window. “I miss her.”

  “You never stopped missing her, Lee. And I don’t think your heart was healed from the last time she left. Hearts as big as yours don’t heal quickly.”

  Yeah, not what he needed to hear. Levi slid down the sofa and rested his head on the back. “I let her go, Mom. No, I told her to go.”

  Callie was silent for a minute, maybe more. “I think it’s amazingly brave of you, Levi. Because staying, or going, has to be her choice,” Callie replied. “You can’t force love, Levi. You know that better than most. You deserve to be loved completely, unreservedly.”

  Levi nodded. “But it still hurts like hell.” Levi took a deep breath, knowing he could tell Callie this, that she was the one person who’d understand.

  “Just for once, Mom, I want to be the person Tanna runs back to, not away from.”

  Thirteen

  Carrick stood in the private viewing space overlooking the sale floor and watched Ronan work the room. His brother, their chief auctioneer, hadn’t planned on running this vintage clothing auction but, thanks to Tanna, many of Raeni’s old contacts and clients were present and all had expressed the wish to see a Murphy controlling the sale.

  Their wishes were his command so his charming, fast-talking brother did what he did best: push up prices with wit and laughter and natural charm.

  Carrick lifted his eyebrows when a dress hit the fifty thousand mark and shook his head. God, Tanna would’ve loved this; she would’ve been out on the floor, spotting bids or working a phone for a client who couldn’t be present. Either way, she would’ve loved to have been part of the evening.

  But Tanna was back in London and Levi wasn’t answering his calls so Carrick could only presume they’d messed up their second chance.

  Would any Murphy sibling ever find love?

  Carrick was divorced from Satan’s bride, Ronan’s wife, Thandi, had died giving birth to Aron, his second son, and who the hell knew why Finn and Beah had gotten divorced?

  He’d had high hopes for Tanna and Levi, but his sister’s rapid departure back to London suggested their relationship had hit the rocks...again.

  Carrick leaned into the wall as Ronan banged his gavel down, indicating the dress was sold. Next up was a vintage Hermès handbag, an item Carrick knew many of the buyers had expressed interest in. Although he was separated from his well-dressed and very loaded clients by a glass window, he could feel the energy in the room change. He’d been doing this long enough to know a bidding war was about to break out and he smiled; bidding wars were spectacularly good for the Murphy International bank account.

  Carrick scanned the room, his eyes bouncing over perfectly made-up faces, coiffed hair, stupendous jewelry. He identified a few of his clients and smiled at Frieda Talbot, sporting a necklace of matched pearls the size of marbles and a don’t-mess-with-my-checkbook look.

  Along the sides of the room his staff manned the phones and standing to the right of them was a blonde in a rich blue-and-black-patterned wraparound dress and wearing high-heeled boots.

  Sadie.

  Carrick’s heart kicked up and he drank in her features, smiling at the excitement on her face. A small smile played about her lips and her eyes flipped between the big screen on the wall, showing a picture of the next item up for sale, to the bidders in the room. There was a supermodel and a famous dress designer and an A-list Hollywood actress, so maybe she was a little starstruck.

  Sadie lifted her hand to her throat and he remembered her doing that the other night as he slid inside her, warm and wet and wonderful.

  He’d headed over to Sadie’s apartment to see whether she’d recovered from her brief hospital visit but when he knocked on her door, a huge bunch of flowers in hand, she’d grabbed his tie and pulled him into her home and locked her lips on his.

  Clothes started flying soon afterward and he’d ended up making love to her for most of the night.

  The next morning, they’d both agreed it was a onetime thing...

  But looking at her standing there, excitement in her eyes, he wanted her again.

  But he’d mixed business and pleasure before and it had blown up in his face.

  He’d be stupid to do that again.

  But, hell, if he was given the opportunity to be stupid again, in that particular way, he’d jump at the chance.

  * * *

  In her fabulous and luxurious apartment in Marble Arch, Padma dumped a healthy amount of red wine into Tanna’s silver goblet and pushed it across the marble kitchen counter that hadn’t seen a pot, or a home-made meal, since 1992.

  Padma had an arrangement with several Michelin star chefs in London that, if she didn’t eat at one of their restaurants, they delivered. Padma—with her dark eyes, scarlet lipstick and complete self-confidence—had no problem bending egotistic head chefs and restaurant owners to her way of thinking.

  That amount of self-possession both impressed and terrified Tanna.

  “So, how was your first week back at work?” Padma demanded, perchin
g on a bar stool on the other side of the counter and lighting up a cigarette.

  Tanna shrugged. “Cold. Wet. Quiet, mostly. We did a couple of training exercises yesterday.”

  Tanna took a sip of her wine and ran her hand over her hair, pulled back into a tight braid. London was London; nothing much had changed in a month.

  Although it did feel like she’d rocketed back a decade as her thoughts were consumed by Levi.

  Was he okay? How was his leg? Was he missing her? Furious with her? She hadn’t heard anything from him since she left ten days ago and she kept checking her phone, desperate to hear something.

  But nope, nothing.

  Tanna sighed, ripped the band from her braid and raked her fingers through her hair, wincing as her scalp tingled. If she were with Levi, she’d ask him to massage her scalp and he would, then his hands would move to her neck and her back, his fingers digging into her knots. But within a couple of minutes he’d become distracted and his hands would wander to her breast, between her legs...

  Tanna blinked when Padma flicked her hand with a glossy, red-tipped finger. “Earth to Tanna.”

  Tanna ran the tip of her finger around the rim of her goblet. She couldn’t help thinking about Levi. She missed him as much as she would an amputated limb. Had she done the right thing leaving?

  She’d thought that when she touched down in London, she’d feel better about her decision to leave Boston, but it never happened. She’d thought she’d feel settled when she walked through the door to her Wimbledon apartment, but...nope.

  On the first day back at work, at the end of the first week...

  Nothing. Ten days later she was still questioning her decision, was still wondering if leaving Boston was the right thing to do.

  “Have you responded to any emergency calls this week?” Padma asked.

  Tanna nodded. “A car accident on the A3 the day before yesterday, a bomb threat at a politician’s office.”

  Padma’s expression turned speculative and Tanna knew what was coming next. “And how are you?”