“You’ve met my parents before?” I ask, breaking the spell, but unable to get their meeting out of my head.
She unleashes a vivid grin. “Of course. Visited them after that late night at the diner. He’s in law, Grayson, but he doesn’t have any qualms about not following it. Don’t for one second think you aren’t enough.” Her gaze probes me, imploring, and as serious as I’ve seen Aoife yet. “They’re the ones with disingenuous convictions. They’re the ones deceiving themselves by going to confession only to spit on their own beliefs. I’m sorry they’ve hurt you, and that you can’t see your niece, but don’t think you’re missing out. You do more for this city, for Boston than all of them combined.”
I’m so stunned, we pause our movements. “Why do you say that? What did you offer them?”
She sighs. “They’re not as on the straight and narrow as they appear. Like most people. That’s one thing I love about this life, my position. I don’t need to pretend to be anything because my role already dictates it for me. And others, like your father or the mayor? Pawns. All I see are desperate men, shackled to their own ambition. It owns them. And they’ll gladly roll around with the likes of me if it means getting ahead. You’re better than them, Grayson. I don’t have that effect on you.”
I cage her in, both arms wrapped around her as she turns, back flush to my chest. My hand spreads over her stomach, and naturally, I graze her with my thumb. Back and forth, back and forth. Tucking my lips against her ear, I say, “You have more of an effect than you know.” I palm her closer to me, allowing her to feel what she does to me. Her breath hitches.
Then, because we’re surrounded by people staring, I haul her around and pick back up where we left off in our dance. Hereyes are wide, and she tugs her lower lip into her mouth, but she shakes it off to allow her casual smile to grace her expression.
We dance in silence for a bit. She doesn’t seem to care about anyone else, and I’m shocked at how someone with such a prominent reputation can be so unruffled. “What’s your trick to remaining calm in a room full of people who either look at you like a snack, in disgust, or as a meal ticket?” I ask, curious.
“I wear fun underwear.”
I choke out a laugh. “What?”
“My undergarments have Christmas cats on them.” She’s serious. Dead serious. And that’s dangerous because all of a sudden I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to be with her somewhere in private.
I blink. “Please tell me this is a joke. Because now all I can think about is your damn underwear, Aoife.”
She leans forward, her hand coming up to my nape and offering a gentle squeeze. “Good,” she whispers in my ear. “Have a good night, Detective.”
Before I can wrangle her, she’s out of my arms. She steps away from the dance floor, and I stand there. With my hands shoved in my pockets, while couples waltz around me—I continue to stand there, trying to forget the image Aoife forced into my mind.
When I finally get my act together to actually remove myself from the floor I’m stuck to, she’s gone. I jog around the ballroom like an idiot. I check the balcony, the bathrooms, and take the elevator to the lobby to see if I can catch her. Gone. She’s gone.
Abruptly ended our dance and left.
I’d say hunting her was a waste of time, but that wouldn’t be the case if I had found her, so I chuckle to myself and decide it’s time to call this charity event quits anyway. When I make it to my car, the clouds have opened up. A slushy mix of sleet and hardened rain hisses as it strikes the sidewalk. It’s cold andrelentless, and I’m glad I left when I did because driving home in this mess would be gross and risky.
Huffing, I plop into my seat, shaking the mess off my head and slamming the door. I start my car, eyeing more people leaving the hotel in favor of their cars and Ubers. I glance in the rearview mirror and?—
What the hell?
A scrap of red sways from my mirror, smug little Christmas cats in Santa hats sipping cocoa, grinning at me from the fabric. Her underwear is dangling from my?—
My jaw tightens, and for a breath, heat floods my system as a sharp laugh shakes loose from me. Shewoulddo this. Only she would do this. Hell, how did she get into my car?
But as my laugh fades, under the humor of it, is something else. A challenge. Does she want me wondering what she’s wearing now that her red thong is hanging in front of my face? Does she want me imagining? My knuckles fist the wheel, remembering her body made for mine as I held her close. Why does it feel like she knows exactly what she’s doing?
I throw the car into drive and take off the short distance to her condo building. It’s quick, probably too fast. There’s no time to cool off, to think, or to reason. When I pull in front of the entrance, I ignore the parking signs and rip her panties from my mirror. Clenched in my hand, I stride inside, showing my badge to the doormen as I bulldoze past them.
Mad and soaking wet, I ride the elevator to Aoife’s floor. When I get off, her two guards straighten and eye me warily as I approach her door and pound my fist on it. Twice.
Almost instantly, she answers.
Her hair is damp, her red dress still clinging to her frame, and I drag my eyes down.
“I have to know …” I pant, hanging my head. “I have to know.”
“Know what?” she whispers, resting a hip on the threshold.
“If I have these, what are you wearing now?”
CHAPTER 13
AOIFE
