She extended a scanner to Portia. Her bright red nails perfectly matched her tough-girl uniform. “State your name for the record.” Her voice was cool. Confident.
Clearly out of place in this swirl of high society, she didn’t seem bothered or intimidated. In fact, she appeared comfortable in her own skin in a way that Killian hadn’t been in far too long. How did she do it?
Beside him, Portia placed her hand on the sensor, her pale pink nails a sharp contrast to the courier’s fire engine red ones. “Portia Tremaine.”
“Identity confirmed,” the computer chimed. Portia removed her hand from the scanner and the courier looked at the screen.
“Thank you, Ms. Tremaine.” She slid the scanner into a side pocket and reached into her messenger bag. Black synth-leather, like her outfit, and just as well-worn.
Extracting a bulky envelope, she offered it to Portia. “Here’s your package. Have a nice night.”
Portia took ownership of the package. The courier’s gaze lost focus and flickered to the side. She must be using an optic display. Whatever she saw there made her smile.
Her entire face lit up, revealing dimples in her cheeks and adding a sparkle to her eyes. Her obvious joy sent a spear of envy through him. He wanted to get closer to her, experience that joy for himself.
“That will be all.” Courier dismissed, Portia’s attention turned to the package.
Killian kept his attention on the courier. She didn’t look surprised by Portia’s abrupt dismissal. Working for the Tremaine Corporation, she was probably used to it.
Transaction complete, the courier pivoted and walked away. Killian watched her go. Her leathers fit like they’d been made for her and her swagger gave movement to already dangerous curves. She paused and he held his breath. Maybe she’d forgotten something and would turn back.
Instead, one of those delicate, red-tipped hands snaked a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
The move put her in profile and he watched as she took a sip, her nose wrinkling at the bubbles. He laughed. He’d done the same the first time he drank champagne. How had he forgotten such a simple pleasure?
Portia turned to look at him. He ignored her, totally focused on the courier.
She took another sip. Her nose was still wrinkled, but this time the bubbles brought another unguarded smile to her face.
Setting the unfinished glass on another waiter’s tray, she caught him watching her. For the briefest second, she paused, her eyes wide. Then she smiled and gave him a brazen wink before turning away.
“Who was that?” He watched the courier weave through the crowd, her dark outfit a stark contrast to the other guests’ colorful clothes.
“A courier.” Portia responded, her tone conveying the unspokenwho cares. “What has gotten into you?”
When Killian couldn’t see the courier any longer, he lifted his empty glass to his lips again. Dammit. Whathadgotten into him?
“I have no idea.” The absolute truth. The little blonde had been a bright spot in an otherwise boring night. One that beckoned him closer.
He wanted her to smile at him like champagne bubbles. Needing another distraction—this time from his imagination—Killian grabbed Portia’s hand. “Dance with me.”
Portia tugged her hand free and stared at the package, her expression troubled. “I need to deal with whatever this is. I should go to the office.”
“Didn’t you promise Tommy no business tonight?”
“This is an emergency.” She didn’t look up from the envelope.
For most of their lives, he and Tommy had tried to convince Portia that there was more to life than working. But she was determined to win her father’s approval, to be the heir he demanded. Personally, Killian thought the old bastard would never be satisfied; he’d treated Portia badly her entire life. What did he know, though? His own parents had been dead for five years and he didn’t have anyone to prove anything to.
To distract himself from the sudden ache in his chest, Killian shifted to peer over her shoulder. “Is it really? Who sent it?”
The package wasn’t anything special as far as he could tell. The bulky yellow parcel had a shipping label with her name and a mark that indicated it had been processed through the company mailroom. Nothing about it looked urgent.
Then again, what the hell did he know? He was the one with nothing but time on his hands.
“It doesn’t say.” Portia turned the package over.
“You two have obviously forgotten how to have fun,” a voice behind them drawled.
