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“Yes, it matters. It should have mattered before but I was willing to look past your...unethical activities.” She huffs and the sound of shoes knocking against the floor makes my heart kick up a notch.Shit. They’re coming this way. “You promised me you’d get out of that stuff. It’s dangerous.”
Owen backs up as silently as possible. The hallway isn’t long but I’m moving slow and a little unsteadily in these heels...we’re not going to get back out before they come around the corner. And there’s nowhere else to go.
As I sense a flash of movement, Owen pushes me against the wall and his lips are hard on mine once more. It’s even better this time than it was the first—because anticipation has been fuelling my every movement. My every waking moment. I open to him like a flower, my body warm and pliable in his hands. The soft groan that comes from the back of his throat is everything.
The scent of his cologne winds through me, and like a creeping vine it wraps around my heart and lungs. I’m intoxicated by him. Enraptured by the way his hands smooth over the fabric of my dress, tracing my boyish shape and making me feel every inch a desirable woman. They tell me a perfect lie and I’m in too deep not to believe it.
I slide my tongue along his, tangling my fingers in his hair and taking my fill. By the time we’re done—pink-cheeked and breathing a little heavier—Celina and Matt are gone. I turn my head in time to see Matt walking out of the gallery on the other side of the room. Celina is mingling with the guests as though nothing happened.
“Did you see anything?” I pull back and right my dress, which has ridden up my thighs.
Owen shakes his head. “No. I was a little distracted.”
It’s a problem. These kinds of distractions lead to cases going unsolved...or worse. We’ve lost good men and women in the past when someone makes a mistake. When someone has their eye on the wrong thing.
Guilt surges through my veins. I’ve got this amazing opportunity in front of me and I’m letting my libido lead me astray. Iknowthis thing with Owen won’t go anywhere, but I can’t let it go. Maybe sex cravings are like food cravings? If you want something sweet, the best way to dissipate that feeling is to nibble on some chocolate.
“What did you make of the whole ‘unethical activities’ thing?” I ask as we slip back into the main room.
“It’s vague, but it cements Matt as someone to keep an eye on.”
The gallery is much fuller now and it’s harder to get close to the sculptures. So we tuck ourselves away in a corner, pretending to inspect one of Celina’s few charcoal sketches. This one depicts a woman with her face screwed up with pleasure. The blurry figure of a man is behind her, with his hand at her throat. It’s intense. Sexy and a little dangerous and it socks me in the chest.
“She’s talented,” I murmur, watching Celina weave through the crowd.
There’s no sign of her tears now. Her face is radiant as she works the room—touching arms and leaning in close to create a sense of intimacy geared toward making people open their wallets.
“She’s not wearing earrings anymore.” Owen slips a hand around my waist as we spot Rowan across the room. His face lights up in recognition and he heads over. “I think we need to make sure you get a business card for Ms. Yang. A private consultation might be a good chance to get some information.”
I nod. “Maybe putting something like that in our bedroom might spice up our sex life.” I say it partially for Rowan’s benefit, loud enough that he’ll hear us acting like a regular married couple.
But heat flares in Owen’s eyes—turning the icy blue to pure flame—and his fingers flex at my hip in a way that’s instinctive. It’snotfor show. I’m convinced I’m not the only one being drawn in by this carnal tide. He feels it, too. Underneath the teasing and the butting heads, there’s something simmering.
But he won’t pull the trigger. Why? For a long time I thought it was because he wasn’t attracted to me. But the way he looks at me now, darkly engrossed and with an intensity that threatens to burn me alive, I reconsider.
The fact is, I can’t keep going around and around like this. My brain is like a spinning top, and I need to focus. Tonight, I’m going to do something stupid, something that proves I’m a glutton for punishment.
I’m going to proposition Owen again.
CHAPTER NINE
Owen
ILEAVETHEgallery with Hannah close to 11:00 p.m. We stay longer than most, chatting to Rowan and Dom. Rowan told us in hushed tones that Matt and Celina had a tumultuous relationship—on again and off again. Their strange work hours and the pressures of their perfectionist tendencies had put them under a lot of strain. Before we left, Hannah got a card from Celina and promised to call for a private appointment.
Now, Hannah and I stroll along the Southbank Boulevard. I’d suggested a cab, but she wanted to walk. Processing time, she called it. I’d rather be back at 21 Love Street and straight into a cold shower, because her dress is turning my resolve to mush and her gently smudged lipstick has me thinking about what I could do to further ruin her makeup.
Sparkling lights bounce off the Yarra River as we walk, and the night air is filled with the sound of music and laughter. This part of the city is full of bars and restaurants and, despite the chill in the air, people are out in force.
“Do you think much about the academy days?” she asks me, out of nowhere.
“Sure. They’re fond memories.” I’d made a lot of friends back then—though many dissolved after I left. It’s something I’ve learned over the years—when you hang out with ghosts for too long you can easily become one.
She steps up to the railing overlooking the river. “Was it hard to walk away?”
“No.” Self-preservation is the easy route.
“Not even a little bit?”
