“Hmm…” I take his hand in mine, elongating his fingers and splaying them wide, then I press a kiss to each and every one. A gentle touch of my lips. A sneaky tap of my tongue. “So if I have no need for diamonds or real estate, and I’m already a tigress, commanding an army… What is it, Mr. Malone, that your New York ancestry can offer me?”
He sets the tip of his pointer finger under my chin and draws me to my toes. “I can offer youme.”
“Myprize.” I press my lips to his and sigh when our tongues dance. “I already nabbed the best thing New York had to offer. The East Coast is worse for having lost you.”
“Sucks to be them.” He nips at the corner of my lips. My chin. The dimple digging into my cheek. And though his heart pounds against my chest, the worry he carried in here seems to weigh just a little less now. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” I spy a smudge of red lipstick on his jaw, so I swipe it away with a quick glide of my thumb. “And I’m safe, in case you needed to hear me say it.”
“I did.” He rests his forehead against mine, exhaling a hefty dose of concern. “Gonna need every-ten-minute check-ins till those fuckers are back on a plane and flying somewhere over the mountains, far away from here.” He pauses for a beat, searching my eyes. “Maybe you’d agree to wearing a camera? And heart rate monitors. And having guards everywhere you go. That way, I’ll never have to worry you’re not okay.”
“Or…” I inch back. “You could consider medication to help with that anxiety, while I remind you that I survived nearly three decades before I met you. I know how to wield a blade, kill a man, remove his chest block, and destroy the evidence, so not even you and your detective buddies could figure me out.”
His lips flatten into firm lines. “And yet, your words fail to bring me comfort. You thought that would convince me you’ve got a handle on this shit when, in reality, you’ve only reminded me of the thing that scares the hell out of me. I feel worse, Chief. Not better.”
“You’re gonna be okay.” I take his hand and push away from the counter, and though I could use either of the two doors leading out of here, I choose the one we entered through, tugging it open and revealing a broad, black-suited back.
When the towering guard remains unmoved, I clear my throat. “If you don’t mind…”
He stalks two feet to the left in silence, but he glances right and meetsmy eyes. He nods, short, sharp, respectful, then he looks to Archer and does the same. “Mr. Malone.”
“We’re headed back inside now. Thanks for looking out.”
“There you are!” Doctor Raquel’s voice reverberates from the end of the long hallway, her platinum blonde hair like a siren in the dark-carpeted and dark-walled space. With bright blue eyes, shiny red lips, a gown of the same fire engine red, and high heels that lend her an extra three or four inches, she grabs another woman’s hand and drags the poor soul in this direction. “I’ve been looking for you since the friggin’ ceremony, Chief.”
My boobs are tucked away, right? My dress is on straight?Panicked, I study myself and make damn sure my staff won’t see me sexed up and dressed down. I brush my free hand over the front of my gown, smoothing what is already smooth, then I glance up again and nervously tuck my hair behind my ear.
Did Archer mess it up?
Shit, do I look like I just had an orgasm?
“Detective Malone.” Raquel’s perfume reaches us just a half-second before the woman herself. She doesn’t normally smell of lavender and something else… vanilla, maybe. Which implies she went all out to eradicate the stench of dead people for her weekend with two-plus-ones at a black-tie event. “I wish I could say I’m surprised by your tenacious ability to remain hidden at a social event, Chief Mayet. But I’m not, which means I’ve spent half a day chasing after you in heels that hurt my toes and a dress that pinches my left boob.”
Naturally, my eyes shift to the offending appendage.
“I was worried you’d left. It’s entirely in character for you to sneak out a side door and change into yoga pants while everyone else is busy here.”
“Shucks, Doctor Raquel. You know me so well.” I fake a smile and study our fourth, partially hidden behind Raquel’s five feet seven inches. “Eliza, right?”
“Ah…” Archer coughs. “Chief?—”
“Taylor.” Raquel drags her friend forward. “Taylor, meet my boss, Chief Mayet. Minka.”
“So happy to finally meet you.” Taylor thrusts her hand forward and reveals glittering red nails and delicate tattooed vines snaking along her wrist. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Chief. Raquel speaks highly of you.”
I blink once. Twice. Three times. And with every shift of my eyelids, I catalog something new about the woman in front of me. Black dress. Silver shoes. Mahogany hair, a similar shade to mine.
“Shake her hand, Minka.” Archer nudges me forward. “You’re being rude.”
I swing my eyes back to Raquel’s. “Eliza?”
“No. Taylor. Like I said.”
“Your sister’s name is Taylor?” I tilt my head to the side and study Taylor’s wide hips. Her rounded chest. Her perfect hourglass shape, much like Aubree’s, but this chick has a little more meat on her bones compared to the bride. “You told me it was Eliza.”
“My sister’s nameisEliza. Eliza is my sister.Thisis Taylor.”
“You’re fumbling the ball, Chief.” Archer chokes on a silent laugh. “Catch up.”
