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A blush crept up my cheeks as I stood in front of him, the emerald dress hugging my figure. The way it flowed down to my feet and accentuated every curve and dip of my body was nothing short of breathtaking. The intricate beadwork shimmered under the boutique's warm lights and cast an ethereal glow that made me feel like a goddess.
"You really do look like something out of a fairytale," Kylo murmured, his voice tinged with genuine wonder. He took a step closer and gently brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. His touch sent shivers down my spine, electrifying every nerve ending in my body.
I couldn't help but smile at his words. I wasn't just Averill: street-smart and rough around the edges. Now, I was Averill, the poised and alluring socialite who could navigate the treacherous waters of high society.
He flashed a charming smile and offered his arm. "Shall we?"
"Lead the way, Prince Charming.”
But inside, the question gnawed at me: How? Our badges definitely didn't come with a golden paycheck.
"Seriously though, Kylo, are you secretly a Chippendale dancer or something?" I asked, only half-joking as he guided me through another section of the store, this one for accessories that cost more than my entire wardrobe combined.
"Something like that," he replied, cryptic as ever. "I have distant relatives. Rich ones. Their love language is apparently cold hard cash."
"Must be nice," I eyed a necklace whose diamonds mocked me with their sparkle.
"Trust me, it comes with its own set of handcuffs," Even though his tone was light, shadows flickered behind his eyes.
I let him fasten the damned thing around my neck, the cold kiss of jewels against my skin.
"Planning to rob a bank after we're done here?" My tone dripped with sarcasm.
He raised an eyebrow, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Only if you're my Bonnie, Winslow."
"Bonnie ended up riddled with bullets, remember?" I shot back and my heart skipped a beat at the flirtation.
Shit.
This was Kylo, my partner, the guy who’d seen me puke my guts out after a particularly gruesome case. Not some glossy-eyed romantic.
"Point taken." He adjusted the jewelry and watched me through the mirror's reflection. "What do you think?"
"About your James Bond cosplay? It's convincing." But the truth was he looked more than tempting; he looked like every bad decision I'd ever wanted to make wrapped up in a tailored suit.
"Good. Because you're about to make us look like New York's finest power couple." His voice held a hint of challenge.
As we exited the store, a chill breeze hit my cheeks and I felt them flush with embarrassment. I couldn't believe how quickly Kylo had transformed me with just a change of clothes and some makeup. He stood by the door of the sleek town car and held it open with one hand while his other hand rested casually in his pocket. With a sly grin, he gestured for me to enter first. My heart fluttered as I stepped into the luxurious car, feeling like a celebrity being chauffeured around by her handsome bodyguard.
The engine revved to life and the purr of the car infiltrated the small space. Kylo slid into the driver's seat, his devilish smile never wavering. "Ready for our grand entrance?"
I leaned back against the plush leather seat, my nerves tingling with an intoxicating mix of excitement and fear. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Chapter
Nine
We arrived at the benefit ball, the air thick with the scent of money and pretension. My arm looped through Kylo’s and we stepped into the gilded hall, a sea of glittering dresses and sharp tuxedos swirling around us. I leaned closer to him, our bodies brushing as we navigated through the crowd.
"Remember, we're just here for Yorke and Ansel," I whispered, but there was a part of me that gorged in the charade, in the pretend intimacy. But if there was one thing I'd learned in my time as a PI it was that there was a thin line that separated reality and pretend- and I was about to waltz all over that motherfucker.
"Got it. But can't say I mind the view while we're at it," Kylo murmured and his gaze skimmed over me before meeting my eyes. There was a heat there that I tried to pretend wasn't.
"Focus, Quinn. Eyes on the prize, not on my ass," I said, acutely aware of how my dress clung to me. It was a dangerous game, acknowledging the tension between us.
"Can't a guy do both?"
"Greedy bastard," I giggled and we continued to move through the crowd. My hand tightened on his arm, and for a split second, I let myself imagine what it would be like to be here with him under different circumstances—no agendas, no bullshit cover stories, just Kylo and me. It was a fleeting thought, chased away by years of built-up walls.
