Tempt Me (4 page)

“
No, you're
not. You used to smile. And laugh. Now you only smile if you're
mocking somebody. Or being cruel.” He looked away as he pushed
off the door. “And that's not who I want to spend my life
with.”

Taking a deep breath, he
said softly, “This engagement is off, Mara. I'll pick up
my stuff and move out of the condo next week. I'll sign it over
to you—you can have it. And I'll honor my agreement on
the store. But that's it. We're done.”

“
Cole, wait.”

He opened the door as he
looked back at her.

“
You can't do
this,” she said, her voice shaking. “Not to me. Not
here
.”

“
I didn't
want to do it here. But I can do it...and I am. I'm not going
to spend my life with someone who is obviously so unhappy. Life's
too short, Mara. Get out there and enjoy it—stop worrying so
much about getting ahead and just live.”

C
hapter
Three

“
Getting close to
time,” Lacey mused.

“
I know.”
Rocki gave her friend an amused glance and nodded toward the clock on
the wall. “I can read a clock, you know.”

“
Bitch.” It
was delivered in a friendly tone, along with an elbow in the side.
Hard.

“
Hey!” Rocki
slammed a hand against the wall to keep from toppling over and glared
at Lacey. “You're the bitch. Bitch. Would stop trying to
send me careening to the floor?”

“
Can't help
it...it was just so funny the one time you did go down...”
Lacey wagged her eyebrows. That was one night she'd never let
Rocki live down—hadn't mattered that both of them had
been drunk. “So...you going to let some hot guy bid on you this
year?”

“
Oh, puh-leeze.”
She sighed and sipped from the one glass of champagne she'd
allow herself for now. She'd have more later. After this was
all over. Champagne. Or something stronger. Probably something
stronger, so she didn't have to think about that damn card. And
the call she'd have to make soon, because she knew the cards
weren't going to stop.

“
You going to tell
me what's up with you?”

With a smile, Rocki lied
between her teeth. “Nothing.” She'd have to come
clean with Lacey. Especially if another one of those cards showed.
Lacey's brother, Clayton, was one of the friends she figured
she'd call—he'd been one of Brant's closer
friends. He would take it seriously, too. But until another one
showed, she wasn't going to worry about it. If another one
came...then, fine. She'd deal. And she'd deal
appropriately. But not now—she had to get through tonight
first.

“
You know, if I
didn't know you, I could believe you,” Lacey said on a
sigh. “But I do know you. And I know you're lying.”

“
Sucks, doesn't
it?”

“
Bitch,”
Lacey muttered. Then she groaned. “Speaking of bitches...here's
the Wicked Witch of High Street coming now. And she looks like she's
up to no good.”

Yeah, Rocki had to agree.
The glint of Mara O'Keily's eyes was all the warning
Rocki needed. As she sipped from her champagne glass, she glanced at
her friend Lacey. Behind the glass, she whispered, “If you
disappear, I'm going to deck you. And keep your trap shut,
too.”

Lacey grimaced. “That
woman is a viper.”

“
I know.”

Five seconds later, Mara
was there, smiling a hard, brittle smile. The look in her eyes was
bright, almost too bright. And disconnected. “Oh, there you
are, Rocki...I've been looking for you. Although in that
get-up, you're rather hard to miss.”

“
Well, I like to
make a statement.” Rocki smiled. She studied Mara's dress
and said, “I suppose I could try something like that, but I
doubt it would work on me.”

“
Your boobs would
runneth over, no doubt,” Lacey said, grinning. “That sort
of thing works best on the boobless and hipless. Oh, no offense, Ms.
O'Keily.”

Mara's smiled went
colder, sharper. “Oh, none taken.” She glanced around.
“So, I heard your designer Lush is supposed to be here tonight.
Has she made her appearance yet?”

“
She has,”
Lacey said. “She's been around most of the night.”

Rocki wanted to kick
Lacey. Damn it. Mara's gaze zeroed in on Lacey and she arched a
blonde brow. “Oh? Perhaps you can introduce me?”

“
Hmmm. I could, but
Lush is going to be on the stage in a few minutes,” Lacey said,
making a face of mock disappointment. “You'll just have
to try and catch her after. I never stay past the auction, I'm
afraid.”

“
I see.” Mara
looked at Rocki. “Are you going to be in the auction...oh,
wait, you're married. Where is your husband, Mrs. Monroe? I bet
he's quite a catch.”

Lacey went rigid next to
her. Rocki reached out and rested a hand on her friend's
shoulder. “Lacey...calm down,” she said softly, glancing
away from the woman in front of her. Lacey was all but vibrating with
the urge to do something violent. “Mara doesn't exactly
know me, after all. She doesn't know about Brant.”

“
I guess that means
she also hasn't taken three minutes to read anything about the
benefit she's attending, huh?” Lacey said, her voice
harsh and cold.

Just then the music
changed, going to a low, rhythmic Celtic ballad. As harp music filled
the air, the lights went low and on the far wall of the restaurant, a
reel of images started to play. As Brant's smiling face
appeared, Rocki looked at Mara. “The benefit is in my husband's
memory, Mara. He died five years ago.”

For reasons he couldn't
quite explain, Cole hadn't left after the little explosion with
Mara. Part of it was because of the way she'd looked—that
expression never boded well. So he hung around and watched, waiting.

Another reason he hadn't
left was that he wanted to see Rocki again. Yeah, he had an
unnatural, unhealthy obsession with a beautiful, married woman. But
he'd just ended an unhealthy relationship with a beautiful
woman. Obviously he had a handle on when to end unhealthy
relationships, right? Even one-sided ones.

Sighing, he stared out at
the crowd, his gaze automatically seeking out Rocki. She was
impossible to miss. She was tall, probably close to five ten. And
with that hat and the heels she wore tonight, she stood out like a
goddess.

A married one.

Shit.

Turning away, he looked
for something to occupy his mind and absently grabbed one of the
rose-colored flyers that had been handed out at the door in exchange
for his “generous donation.” There was a picture on it,
he noticed absently.

A guy. Black hair, a
wide, easy grin.

Below the guy's
picture, it read:
Jacob Brant Monroe.

Monroe...

In loving memory
.

What the...?

Music started to play.
Sad and poignant, filling the air like a liquid sob. Lifting his
head, he found himself seeking out Rocki with his eyes, yet again.
And he found himself watching, entranced, as she made her way to the
small stage that had been set up near the back of the restaurant.

With pictures of her
deceased husband flashing on the wall just over her shoulder, Rocki
smiled out over the crowd. “It's hard to believe just how
fast time can pass.” She glanced over and everybody watched as
the images flickered to a halt.

A wedding day.

Her
wedding day.

Her voice was husky as
she murmured, “We would have been coming up on our tenth
anniversary this year.”

The images sped back up.

“
Brant was a good
husband. A good man.” She smiled and even from where he stood,
Cole could see the tears glinting in her eyes. “And he was a
good cop.”

The images slowed down
once more, pausing on one of the man in uniform. “Brant was a
man who loved life. He loved me. He loved his job and he loved his
badge.” She smiled and it was all that much more beautiful
because it wobbled around the edges. “We weren't one of
those marriages you hear about—and a lot of those aren't
always the normal. You hear about the typical cop married to his job,
the wife just getting the scraps and leftovers. That wasn't our
marriage. We were happy and I know if he hadn't been shot in
the line of duty, we'd still be married...still be happy. Brant
was my heart.”

The images started back
up. Images of him with a boy, walking around a mall. Playing
baseball. Fishing. Talking to kids at a school. “Brant touched
a lot of lives. Some of you are here because of that. Some of you are
here because you know how those men and women touch lives. Some of
you are here because you, like me, lost somebody. You know how hard
it is. You know the pain, you know the grief. And you know how
important it is to know you're not alone—my friends
pulled me through those early, awful days.”

She paused and looked
down. When she looked back up, she wasn't smiling. “You'll
never know how grateful I am to you for that. Words can't
express it. But my way of expressing my gratitude is through
this...by honoring the memory of Brant, and the other men and women
like him who have fallen. The Survivor's Fund is a charity that
helps the families of officers who've died or been injured in
the line of duty. They provide a network for grief counseling, for
financial support, so many needed things. Tonight's benefit is
for that very worthy charity. I thank all of you for being willing to
help out.”

She nodded and then
stepped away from the stage.

As she disappeared
through a small door, Cole found himself staring after her, his heart
breaking over the pain he'd heard in her voice.

Don't grieve for
too long, Lush…

She could still hear his
voice.

“
How long is too
long, Brant?” she whispered, resting one hand on her belly and
staring into nothingness while she waited for the ache in her chest
to fade. Although it wasn't just that she was grieving for
him
,
specifically. She missed him. She was lonely. Nobody else had ever
filled that empty ache in her heart.

Usually, she was okay.
But on nights like tonight, that ache was more acute.

One of the chairpersons
for the charity was out there speaking, wrapping things up. In a few
more minutes, it would be time for her to go back out there and start
the auction.

Then, later, she'd
go home. Alone. She didn't
want
to still be alone. She
was so tired of being alone...

The door opened with a
soft screech that had her jumping, clapping a hand over her mouth to
muffle her shriek. Her heart raced and for a long, long moment, she
forgot to breathe. It wasn't until black dots danced in front
of her eyes that she made herself suck in a desperate breath. She
swayed a little and a pair of hands came around her waist, steadying
her.

“
Hey, are you
okay?”

That voice—

Blinking, she found
herself staring up at Mr. Gorgeous. Cole. Cole Stanton. Mara
O'Keily's fiancé. Automatically, she lifted her
hands and rested them on his chest as she blinked the fog from her
brain. “Ah...”

“
Hey, you should
sit down.”

“
No.” She
shook her head, feeling foolish. Easing back, she gave him a smile,
one that she hoped was a little more certain than she felt. “I'm
just a little off. Rough day.” Rough day, rough night, rough
week. She hadn't eaten anything after the mail had arrived that
morning, either—she'd spotted that damn card right off
the bat and it had killed her appetite. Considering she'd let
herself drink a glass of champagne, and the lack of sleep lately...

“
Do you have that
thing laced too tight or what?”

Despite herself, Rocki
laughed. “No. I promise you, I don't.” Resting
against the wall, she smiled at him. “It's just been a
rough day and I didn't eat lunch. That, combined with
champagne, and I'm a little punch drunk.”

Cole continued to eye her
narrowly, like he didn't entirely believe her explanation. But
he did back up, giving her a few more inches. That let her breathe,
which she desperately needed. If she kept smelling
him
on
every breath, she didn't know what she might do.

The air between them
already felt a little too warm, a little too heavy.

But then that shifted,
shattered as he looked away. “I...ah. I'm sorry about
your husband. I didn't realize...well, until tonight.”

“
It's okay.”
She smiled sadly and reached up, tugging her hat off. “It's
been five years.”

“
You look like the
wounds are still fresh. You must have loved him a lot. You still wear
his ring. I didn't notice it before.”