Page 49 of Until You


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"And, that was it."

"You came home?"

"Yes. No." She shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Are you trying to confuse me?"

"Just answer the question, please. And hurry up with that coffee before I pass out."

She poured two cups of coffee, gave one to Conor and kept the other for herself. Then she leaned back against the sink, holding her cup with both hands.

"Where was I?"

"You were having your picture taken at the Diderot showroom."

"Right. Well, by the time we finished, it was late. So I sat around for a while and took it easy. Then I dressed for the evening."

"You didn't come home to get dressed?"

"No. There wasn't any reason. Jacques had asked me to wear one of his designs to the party I was going to tonight. Last night. You know what I mean."

Conor's brows lifted. "That thing you were wearing was a dress?"

She laughed. "An eight-thousand-dollar dress."

"Yeah, well, it only goes to prove that there's no accounting for taste. So you got dressed at the showroom. And then you met Pretty Boy."

"Jean-Phillipe," Miranda said coldly.

"Right. You met him for drinks. And afterwards, you went to, what was it? La Tour d'Argent for dinner?"

"We went to Taillevent. This is childish, O'Neil. Trying to trip me up as if—"

"Then you and Moreau went to a party."

Miranda nodded wearily and put down her coffee cup. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back and massaged her temples with the tips of her fingers. Her hair tumbled down her back, exposing her ears and throat.

Conor stared at her. She had beautiful skin. It reminded him of peaches and cream. Would it taste that way, too?

His jaw tightened. He looked down at his coffee, raised it to his lips and took a swallow.

"Tell me about the party," he said.

"I told you about the party."

"Tell me again."

She sighed and looked at him.

"It was on the Rue St-Honoré. A big, handsome house owned by some English diplomat."

"You had champagne, you chatted with some people..."

"One person," she said wearily. "Just one. And before you ask me again, I still don't remember his name."

"You didn't ask?"

"I told you, he introduced himself. But the place was noisy. And crowded."

"So you had this long conversation with some guy whose name you didn't know?"

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