Joss Wood – Second Chance Temptation (страница 2)
And he was hungry.
Levi looked at his crutches, not sure if he had the energy to make the trek to find food, and checked the pain level in his shoulder. It was still screaming from walking the ten yards to the bathroom. Food was, unless he took another painkiller, out of the question. And every time he took a painkiller without food, he tossed his cookies.
Levi heard a knock on his front door and frowned. His family used the back door leading into the kitchen. And they all announced their presence. The extended Brogan family was not a quiet bunch. The Murphy guys were also frequent visitors and they also used the back door, knowing it was rarely locked. Business associates who needed to see him would’ve called to make an appointment and the rest of his small circle of friends were at work. And if they had a day off, they would’ve given him a heads-up via a text message.
End result: Levi had no idea who was knocking on his front door. A reporter? A photographer? The press had ambushed him when he left the hospital, the camera flashes making his headache a hundred times worse. He hadn’t responded to any of their nearly indecipherable questions, and neither had his mom or his sisters. His dad had loved the press, but Levi and his mom and siblings didn’t.
Despite the Brogans shunning the limelight, the tabloid press paid him, and his sisters, far too much attention, all because they were the children of Boston’s most successful businessman and bon vivant, Ray Brogan. And, because those bottom-feeders loved drama, there had been a few articles about Levi’s accident, reminding the residents of Boston that he and his father had had a volatile relationship. The press took great delight in telling the world he’d spurned Ray’s offer to take over Brogan LLC , a holding company that owned and operated companies in many different sectors and that Levi, reserved, private and taciturn, wasn’t the man his father was.
He wasn’t as charming, as exciting, as loud or as volatile. Thank God.
Levi didn’t make rash decisions, never made promises he couldn’t keep, didn’t take huge risks, causing the people he loved anxiety. Ray got off on risk and adrenaline—betting every cent on huge deals that might or might not come off. He made impulsive decisions—buying companies without doing due diligence—and calling people who suggested caution—mainly Levi—unimaginative and boring.
Ray’s successes had been stratospheric, his failures equally impressive. Levi’s mom had ridden the roller coaster; Levi, on joining the family firm after college, couldn’t handle his father’s volatility and resigned after a year.
His father called him dull and a coward, not cut out for a high-stakes world. Levi had never understood his father, who never felt embarrassed or chastised. He just blustered and BS’d his way through the criticism, and the world seemed to love him even more for his confidence, his brashness.
Levi was the exact opposite; he was not, and never would be, a fan of failure, not privately or publicly. He preferred to be the master of his own ship, avoiding storms rather than sailing directly into them. He liked to be in control. But the world expected him to be like his famous father, so whenever he showed even a hint of his father’s impulsive nature—and apparently crashing his dirt bike qualified—he made the news.
Levi used his crutch to lift the drape covering the window of his study, through which he could see the road and his driveway. An unfamiliar SUV sat in his driveway, too expensive to belong to an intrepid reporter.
He hoped.
The knock came again and Levi bellowed a quick “Come in!” But, honestly, if he could persuade his visitor to make him a sandwich and a hot cup of coffee, he’d listen to a pitch for an interview, or from a salesman.
He was that desperate.
“I’m in the media room. Down the hallway, second door on your left.”
Levi heard the front door closing and, judging by the hesitant steps, knew his visitor wasn’t someone who had constant access to his house.
“For God’s sake,” Levi muttered, impatient. “Second door on the left.”
“I heard you. I’m not deaf.”
The words hit his ears at the same time she appeared in his doorway, and Levi stared at her, not sure whether his incredibly strong pain pills were causing hallucinations.
Black jeans and a thin, mint-colored sweater hugged her curves under a thigh-length leather jacket. A multi-colored scarf held back curls and her face was thinner, older and, God, so beautiful. Levi gripped the arm of his chair, physically grounding himself, fighting the instinct to rush her, to pull her into his arms and bury his face in her neck, in her lustrous hair. He needed to inhale the scent of her skin, to know whether it was as soft and creamy as it looked.
He wanted to strip her naked, to finally feel her round breast in his hand, to find out whether her nipples were as luscious as he imagined, her core as warm, as spicy, as the rest of her.
So much time had passed and Levi felt shocked at how much he wanted her. Unable to stop himself, he drank her in. Those light green eyes fringed with long, thick black lashes fascinated him and he’d loved running his thumbs across those high cheekbones and that round, stubborn chin. He’d been addicted to her wide, sexy mouth, with its full lips, and he’d adored her curly, black-as-coal hair. Tanna’s skin, thanks to her Bengalese grandmother always made her look like she’d recently returned from a six-week holiday in the hot Caribbean sun.
Tanna was warm island breezes and hot beach bonfires, with a body made to wear a bikini, or better yet, nothing at all. She was a hot sun, a shooting star, blue skies, happiness.
Or she had been...
Before she screwed with his life and made him look like an idiot in front of his family and the world. Before she’d left and his world spun out of control.
He didn’t need to see her again, didn’t need to hear whatever the hell it was she wanted to say. He’d worked damned hard at surviving her, creating a life he loved and enjoyed, and he’d made a conscious effort to forget her. Like Ray, she’d caused chaos in his life and he never again wanted to feel like he was falling out of an airplane without a parachute.
He was over her.
He had to be.
“What the hell are you doing here, Tanna?” he demanded in a low growl.
“I need to talk to you,” Tanna said, advancing into the room and standing next to an easy chair, a twin to the one he was sitting in. He saw her eyes flitting to his leg and an exquisitely arched eyebrow lifted. “What happened?”
“My dirt bike and I parted ways,” Levi responded curtly. He jerked his head, hoping she didn’t notice the fine tremor in his hands. “You know the way out.”
Tanna ignored his order and sat down on the chair, placing her tote bag on the floor next to her. She rested her forearms on her knees and clasped her hands together. “We need to talk, Levi.”
Did he want to hear anything she had to say? Hell no. And hell yes.
Hell no, because her walking out on him shortly before their wedding without an explanation made him reluctant to indulge in a rehash ten-plus years later. And hell yes, because, dammit, this was Tanna. The only woman who’d ever caused his lungs to stop functioning, blood to drain from his brain, his heart to beat erratically.
Self-reliant and reticent, Levi didn’t make friends easily and, before Tanna Murphy, had never been in love. For months after her leaving, he’d felt like his ribs were broken, every breath he took hurt.
He’d loved her, craved her, would’ve moved heaven and earth for her. And, because of who he was, his nonmarriage had made all the papers on the East Coast. And on the West Coast too.
God, he’d been the village idiot.
“Just walk your pretty ass out of here, Murphy.”
Tanna tipped her head and Levi noticed the determination in her eyes. Dammit. He recognized her look; he’d seen enough of it when she was injured in an accident of her own, before their engagement. Tanna didn’t take no for an answer. And since he couldn’t forcibly remove her from his house, he was stuck listening to her.
Levi scowled at his right leg resting on a small ottoman. She pretty much had a captive audience and that annoyed the ever-loving crap out of him.
But if he was going to listen to whatever drivel she was about to spout, he’d get something out of it. He narrowed his eyes at her. “You can have five minutes if you make me a cup of coffee.”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Ten minutes, but for that I want coffee and a sandwich,” Levi countered.
Tanna had the audacity to smile at him. “Or I could do neither and just sit here and stare at you until you give in.”
Levi picked up his phone and waved it. “Or I could call 911 and charge you for trespassing.”
He saw her hesitate and heard the silent curse on the tip of her tongue. She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated and snapped her mouth closed.
“I thought you’d see it my way,” Levi said as she stood up. “You’ll find everything you need in the kitchen. And do not think you can fob me off with a PB&J. There’s deli meat, salad stuff and an array of condiments. Pile it on, princess.”