Page 60 of Lawbreaker

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Page 60 of Lawbreaker

“Oh, there’s Mr. Naguchi,” Stasia said. “I need to double-check with him about next month’s exhibit here!”

“I could handle that, but I’d rather you did. You’re not as hotheaded and stubborn as I am,” Tony chuckled.

“I practice diplomacy with words,” she said in a loud whisper. “I don’t need a gun to do it!”

“Spoilsport,” he shot back.

Odalie was nibbling on a small plate of crudités with a few drops of dressing. She liked raw veggies, but she was tired and sleepy. Tony was speaking to a gorgeous brunette, completely ignoring Odalie.

Well, she thought, two can play at that game. She walked away from the buffet table toward the band. She wondered which of the musicians was Connie’s cousin. Most of the band members had dark hair and eyes. She was looking for a man who looked Italian. But they all looked Italian.

A man she didn’t know asked her to dance. He was bad at it. Her feet felt like open wounds because he kept stepping on them. He apologized. It didn’t help.

The dance ended and she was just starting to go the other way when Tony caught her by the upper arm and pulled her along with him to his office. He brought her inside and closed the door behind them.

“Why did you come?” he asked shortly. “My secretary sent out the invitations and I’m damned sure you weren’t sent one.”

She felt her face flaming. “Stasia wanted me to come with her,” she said. “She didn’t tell me about any invitation.”

He glared down at her. “I have to put up with you occasionally, but you don’t need to show up every time I have an exhibit, regardless of whether Stasia comes or not.”

She ground her teeth together to stop from saying what she’d have liked to say. “I won’t be here long. Stasia said we’d leave by nine o’clock. She tires easily.”

Her calm tone was at odds with her heartbeat, which had gone wild from the moment she spotted him. Even now, it was shaking the thin fabric of her bodice.

“Then watch the clock,” he said shortly.

“Angel was nice,” she muttered, glaring at him.

“Yeah, he’s nice. He’s also engaged to the daughter of a friend of mine,” he added. “I would hate being put in the position of telling him that his son is going around with another woman.”

“We had sushi,” she said, flabbergasted. “Sushi! Dead fish with three people. No romantic interlude, no rendezvous!”

He was in the wrong and he knew it. But he wasn’t going to let her go around with anyone who had his hand all over the rackets. Angel did.

She just looked at him. Glowered at him. “If you’re through telling me who to date, I’ll ask Ben to drive me home. Or I can walk.” She smiled icily.

“For two bits, I’d let you walk,” he muttered.

That hurt, as it was meant to. She turned around and ended up on the dance floor, where Stasia was dancing with one of the guests.

“Tony, can you still do that box step?” she teased.

“Of course I can!”

“Odalie, make him prove it,” Stasia challenged. “Go on!”

Tony glared at her. She glared back. But they were going to cause gossip if he walked away. He caught her around the waist and pulled her close. His head was already swelling. He felt joy well up in him like light from the sun as he brought her so close that he could feel her heart beating wildly against him.

This was a tragedy in the making, he thought furiously. She smelled of spring flowers. That dress she was wearing left her back bare to the waist, and his big hand was resting there, feeling her warm flesh. He ached all over, and there was no relief. He didn’t dare let her stay around him. It was too dangerous, in many ways. But it was sheer heaven to hold her, to rock her in his arms, just to dance with her.

Odalie felt the same sensations, but she was certain that Tony was hating this. She could feel his posture go stiff. He was only dancing with her to spare any gossip if he refused. But he didn’t have to do it for long. The band wound down and stopped.

Tony and Odalie were at the end of the room, temporarily alone. Her hand had slid from his vest into the opening where his muscular chest was visible, thick with black hair. Involuntarily, her hand rested there, and she was feeling safe and happy as sensation overwhelmed her. His arm was still around her, keeping her close. She let her hand move on his chest, slowly, along the line of his collarbone, while he fought for sanity.

He wasn’t going to get mixed up with a woman who was too young, too naive, too everything! He had to get away from her. Now!

He dragged her hand away from his chest. “Stop trying to touch me,” he said in a gruff undertone, watching her face. “It’s disgusting to me! I don’t want you. Got that?” he asked with pure venom in his tone. “Now, go home and stop finding excuses to come here and make my life miserable!”


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