Ava Jackson makes me happy, and it’s time she saw it.
Our eyes meet and her lips lift into a dizzying grin. ‘Hold it right there.’ She teases. ‘This is a Kodak moment if ever I saw one.’
‘Baby, if this moment was captured on camera, they’d call it porn. And I’d have to rip the head from any man that watched it, because I don’t share.’ I inch myself inside her, careful not to hurt her.
Her hands reach round to my backside and wrench me closer. ‘Best we keep this scenario to ourselves then.’
Her thoughts mirror my own.
But it’s not the scenario I’m compelled to keep to myself.
It’s the woman starring in it.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
AVA
It’s several hours later by the time we reach the majestic bar. Lillian Callaghan watches curiously as Cillian guides me across the room, his hand once again positioned protectively on the base of my spine, stirring a million butterflies in my stomach.
‘There you are.’ William Callaghan’s beady eyes flash between Cillian and me, and it doesn’t take a genius to work out what he’s envisioning.
The seminal smile that’s been present on Cillian’s face since our adult Kodak moment evaporates. It’s becoming crystal clear why he has such a negative impression of lasting relationships.
Thankfully, William and Lillian aren't the only familiar faces in the bar looking for our attention.
‘Cillian!’ Beth, Cillian’s stunning PA, slides over with an equally attractive auburn-haired woman in tow. Both are dressed to kill in sculpted midi dresses, but where Beth’s is more conservative in its cut, the redhead’s is almost completely backless. It makes the slit cutting up the thigh of my floor length Victoria Beckham dress look subtle.
Cillian’s posture relaxes as Beth greets his parents, introduces her wife, Carly, and provides a general buffer between the Callaghan family.
‘What do you want to drink?’ Cillian’s lips graze my earlobe, his hot breath sending goosebumps rippling across my skin.
‘Surprise me.’
He orders me a glass of champagne and buys everyone in the bar a drink as well. Members of his staff trickle in, clustered in groups of three and four, timidly making their way over to greet us. From their hesitant approach, I gather most of them are nervous of their gorgeous grumpy boss. Little do they know that grump is a tiger/teddy bear in disguise.
By seven o’clock the place is packed. Christmas music fills the air. The alcohol’s doing a stellar job of breaking down the icy wall which Cillian hides behind from his staff. One of them even musters the courage to ask if he wants to partake in this year’s Secret Santa.
I’m about to excuse myself to go to the ladies when a tall, athletic-looking guy with dirty blonde hair and an even dirtier smile struts in. In a black tuxedo and brilliant white shirt, he looks smoother than silk. Startling blue eyes scan the crowd, and a smirk settles on his full lips as he makes a beeline directly for us.
Cillian steps forward to greet him but the blonde-haired Adonis ignores him and grabs me instead, dropping a hand on my hip and a kiss on my cheek.
‘Well, well, well.’ Bright eyes sparkle with interest. ‘I’d heard the rumours; I mean the whole building’s been talking about Cillian’s new woman. But words failed to capture exactly how exquisite you truly are.’
Cillian’s jaw ticks as he glares at the hand on my body and removes it.
Our new companion chuckles as Cillian slides possessively closer.
‘Is that right? Well, at least you had access tosomeinformation. I haven't heard a word about you.’ I wink at Cillian.
‘I’m Alex Benedict, criminal defence lawyer at your service.’ His hand raises to his head in a salute. ‘I’m also Cillian’s oldest friend. Our mothers were in the labour ward together.’
Cillian’s words from a couple of weeks ago float back through my mind. ‘Oh, you’re the guy who sold his soul to the devil?’
Cillian leans forward and whisper-shouts, ‘No, baby, he is the devil.’
A deep, surprised laugh bites from Alex’s mouth. ‘Touché,baby.’ He arches a fair eyebrow at Cillian.
Alex turns his attention back to me. ‘You know Cillian hasn’t brought a woman to a Christmas party in years. Which makes you pretty special.’
