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I dropped Iris’s hand and stroked her hair, the tendrils that hung down from the pile of curls. “I should have…”
“Yes, you definitely don’t have to hide things from me like a giant honking ball, but I get why. It was sweet to try and protect me from the paparazzi, but I’m a big girl, and I can make my own choices.”
I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing to remind her that, as a choice, I was a fucking spectacularly bad one. I was lucky to have her at all.
“I know, but if the story got out…”
She grinned at me, and I loved the delicious curve of her smile. “It won’t. Now,” she said, holding out her arm for me again. “Let’s dance.”
***
Iris
I swayed in his arms.
Leaning close to him so that his strong limbs could wrap around me, I let myself set my forehead on his strong, broad chest. He smelled of cinnamon, even now, and within the steel confines of his body, I knew I was safe, knew nothing could touch me. It was almost as if I could feel his heart beating in time with mine. It was a trick of my imagination; I got that. Still, his warmth and strength surrounded me, bringing me happiness I never knew I could have.
He leaned down and whispered against my ear, “You know, every woman in the room wants to be you.”
“I doubt that.”
He let go of my left hand long enough to ease my chin off his chest. “No, you need to see this, vixen. You need to see how goddamn desirable you are.”
Frowning under my mask, I looked at the crowd gazing back at us. The men seemed fixated on my hips and breasts. A few older women had to slap their husbands. The younger women were staring at me like a pack of wolves ready to tear me apart. Jealousy, my mind supplied. People were actually jealous of just recently virginal, total study-aholic me.
That didn’t seem possible.
And it wasn’t what I wanted.
Sure, it was nice to feel that extra jolt of confidence from everyone else’s envy. But that wasn’t something to aspire to. The only thing that really mattered was the man who held me, the man who cared about me, who made me feel like I was the only girl in the world. And definitely the only one who mattered.
I grinned up at him and took his left hand again. “Who else is there?” I nodded between us. “We’re the only people who matter here, the only ones I care about.”
He leaned down and kissed me. His mouth was rapacious and hungry as he did it, his tongue twisting and tasting my own. Cal left me gasping for breath when I pulled away, heat flaring through me and leaving my clit pulsing and lust bubbling through me. I wanted him then, but I knew there was still time we had to mark at the ball. He still had to talk to the right people and coordinate things with the foundation owners. I understood that.
It meant that I’d ravish him when we got home.
I planned to do just that.
He kissed me again as the music ended, and it felt like our bodies were molding into one. Callum ran his finger over my cheek and then over my plum-colored lips. “Wait for me on the balcony. I’ll do what I have to and then…”
I leaned up and whispered his favorite threat to me, “You’ll fuck me into next week.”
He grinned, a devilish expression that should be outlawed in all of Europe. I couldn’t imagine how many women he’d talked into debauchery with that look alone, let alone the rest of the Callum O’Brien package.
“I know,” I said. “And I promise I’ll be waiting.”
***
Symone couldn’t come out with me to the balcony either. She was obviously deeply involved with the family’s charity ball too, and she was also playing the perfect hostess along with Cal. That was alright. The last thing I wanted to get in the way of was both of them doing what they could to help keep other families from being as adversely affected by cancer as they had been. It was noble and sweet, and not at all what I’d expected when I’d first fallen in his office or even when Allison and I had Google-fu’ed his past to find out about the women he’d dated. He was so much more than the domineering boss or the playboy with a mile-long record.
He was my Cal, and I was growing to care more and more about him.
Even when he made dumb decisions, like trying to protect me without asking me what I wanted first. It was nice to feel protected, but I wasn’t some china doll. I wasn’t going to break.
Taking a deep breath, I enjoyed the crisp night air. It wasn’t overly cool out, but it was brisker than this afternoon. I pulled my wrap more tightly around my shoulders and held my clutch tighter as I stepped out onto the balcony. A few cell and other towers rose into the sky, their red lights flashing before me. The rest of the skyline was uniform in a way I wasn’t used to in Baltimore. There were no rising bank towers or lone skyscrapers. Instead, the quaint rows of brick townhomes that had probably been around for three or four centuries reminded me where I was. Sometimes, living away from home, I could pretend that I was still in Maryland. On nights like this, with the city lights playing over the river and the ancient homes lining the streets, I remembered I was squarely in Ireland and thousands of miles from home.
Which was good because my father was going to murder me.
