By the time the hairstylist and makeup artist leave, I look fierce.
I step into the bathroom to get myself into the tight black lacy dress that I bought for just this occasion. Not quite appropriate for a funeral, but hopefully the color signals my distaste for the event I’m being forced to endure. The straps are lace, flowing down over my chest to my belly button. The cups have an additional liner, so they’re not see-through. That liner also covers the sides of my stomach down to a few inches past my vagina. The bottom hem goes a bit longer with more see-through lace.
It’s a shame I have to waste such a gorgeous dress on such an unfortunate occasion. Maybe if I look hot enough, I can tempt one of the bachelors in attendance to toss his hat into the ring.
It won’t happen, but a girl can dream.
As I step out of the bathroom, a hand clamps over my mouth. I toss my elbow back, trying to twist out of the man’s hold like my trainer taught me. Well, I assume it’s a man based on the giantcalloused hand and the person’s height towering over me from behind.
He releases anoomph, but his other palm flattens on my stomach, trapping me in place as his forearm digs into my hip. “Shit, princess. Your elbow is vicious.”
The voice is familiar, and I freeze, my nostrils flaring in a desperate attempt to pick up his scent.
Lemon and honey.
Holy fuck.
“I was expecting a warmer welcome,” he says, chuckling softly. “That dress is a nice distraction from my bruised kidney.”
I smile against his palm and spin around in his hold.
“What are you doing here, Magnum?” I whisper, praying my door is locked. Even if it is, it wouldn’t keep out my father’s men if they wanted to get in. That thought sends another crashing through my mind. “Wait, how did you get in?”
“I’m a thief. It’s what I do.” He wiggles his blond eyebrows, and a lazy smile crosses his face. “I’ve yet to meet a building that I can’t get into, but I’m here to check on you.”
My fingers dig into the material of his hoodie. “Why?”
“Why do I steal things?” He chuckles. “Because I’m very,verygood at it.” The cocky confidence in his tone threatens to distract me, but I stamp that down and stay focused.
“Why would you come here to check on me?” I ask as my heart races. We only spent a few hours together, and that was weeks ago. I’ve thought about him a lot over the last two weeks, but I assumed I would never see him again. After the altercation at the warehouse, Moretti told him to leave Boston that night. “I thought you left town.”
“I did.” He shrugs. “And I stayed long enough for my older brother to get things in line with the MC, but he kept trying to rope me into running for VP?—”
My mind spins, and I take a step back. “I thought you said the O’Connors killed your brother in the explosion at the motel.” In reality, I know I heard him say that.
“They did.” His eyes rake over my face, and his hand tightens on my lower back. “I’m also guessing they killed my father. He never found his way back to Jacksonville, and to be fair, I did tell them to keep him. Before this bullshit, I had two older brothers. The one who stayed in Florida when Blade brought us up here to finish his vendetta is the one who took over the club. He’s the president now. He and my mom aren’t exactly pleased with me, since I didn’t warn them about what was going down, but the Jacksonville chapter of the Demons is practically endangered. He wanted someone he trusted at his side to help rule.”
“How did that end with you back in Boston?”
“Fuck if I know,” he says softly as his head shakes. It makes the long blond hair on the top of his head fall into his eyes. “I needed a change, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I thought I’d stop by and see how things panned out for you.”
A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to swallow. I never should have told him about my predicament. Growing up, it was impressed upon me the importance of keeping one’s mouth shut. Blabbing about family business is a great way to get yourself killed.
“Well, shit.” The backs of his fingers brush over my cheek, and his scent bursts in the air. “You still engaged, princess?”
“To an entirely new someone,” I say, keeping my voice low. “And this guy is way worse than the original family I was promised to.”
“And that sexy little number is for him?” Magnum asks, sliding his hand around my lower back.
“This? It’s just something I had in my closet,” I lie. “I picked it for me.”
“I won’t complain about reaping the benefits.” He smirks, and my lady bits take notice.
Dammit.
I love confidence in a man.
“I’ve never gotten off on knowing a woman is taken, but it’s kinda hot that you have a fiancé, yet my hand is on your ass.” He slides his hand down, cupping my lower butt cheek, going slow enough that I could object. “Is that a cheating fetish, or does it mean I’m into you?”
