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Something shifts in the back of my mind. I know I should figure it out. I’ll get it, but maybe later. I’m turning. She turns at the same time.
She stumbles into me. I almost knock her over. But I catch her. I lose my breath.
Her face is near to mine. But she turns away.
“What…?”
She is hiding her eyes from me. I turn her chin with my finger. She resists, then she surrenders. So softly. And then I see.
Her eye makeup is smudged. I put a finger towards her. Her hand snaps up to bat mine away.
“Don’t…”
She reaches up to stop me. Angry, confused, I catch her hand.
Our lips are so close. I feel the warmth of her breath in my mouth. The scent of her makes me pull her closer. Her lips push and open next to mine. I can taste her breath.
She sniffs. “This won’t mean anything to you, will it? Nothing at all.”
She sounds resigned. Weary.
I sigh, “You have no idea…”
I fold her in my arms. Her silky softness, her round fullness, she is the most precious thing I’ve ever held. Her lips meet mine. We connect. Full. Tender.
A moment of calm, like morning sunlight, shoving away a long, dark night. Then, like a stampede, like wild horses, her body springs at mine like a storm. We mesh. Crush. Combine. We meld together.
Two bodies, two beings, spun around a column, rotating round a knot of pulsing breath. Her hips press against me and her thighs grip on mine. Her breasts crush against me. Her fabulous ass rolls in my hands. She stretches. Writhes.
Little sounds escape from her. She makes me want to hold her forever.
I don’t want to let her go. I don’t want her out of my arms, ever. Not ever. I never felt this way about a woman before. I never believed I could.
But I have to get her out of here tonight. Right now. More than anything, I need her to be safe, and I know that she’s not safe here. I accompany her back to the grand front entrance.
I want to hold her. Take her in my arms. Kiss her. Never let her go. I need to conclude my business here first. In the morning, I’ll find her and propose to her.
Uniformed Carson stands by the limo with his back to us. “Tell him where you live. You’ll be safe.” She looks up at me; I want to say more, but this is not the time.
Inside, I’m surprised when Lucas tells me that that the highest ranking Irish mobster appears to have left the party early. Colm Kinahan is nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Seven
India
Walking down the wide stone steps, a chill drops down my back. As I step into the car, I think, Why would I not be safe?
Not that it matters. I had a nice dream with a gorgeous man. I had a thrilling dance at a spectacular ball. A story I would be able to tell my grandchildren. If I was ever likely to have any grandchildren.
“Mind yourself getting in.” The driver has an Irish brogue. I’m sagging inside as he snicks the door shut, and his feet crunch the gravel drive as he walks to the front. Instinctively, I feel like something’s wrong.
I need to call out to Adam. I grab the door. It’s locked. As the driver settles into his seat, I tell him, “Wait, would you? I want a word with Mr. MacAlpine.”
“Ah, you’ve no need to worry yourself,” he tells me as he’s pulling the car around the ornamental fountain and out into the drive. “Settle yourself in and relax.”
I take out my phone.
He stops the car and turns, leveling a gun over the back of the seat. He points it straight at me. And he smiles.
