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“Of course.” He inspects me as if searching for signs of tension that would tell him whether or not I heard their conversation.
Effie accepts my hand and I pull her into me. I like the way she sighs as soon as she’s firmly in my arms. “I thought you don’t dance?”
“I never said that.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and my chest expands just having her gaze on me, my bow tie suddenly suffocating. “You had a fit last time I tried to get you to dance.”
“I dance now.” To prove my point and that my lessons with Stella have paid off, I swing Effie out and then reel her back in, wrapping my arms around her and dipping her low. It’s smooth and graceful and just a bit closer to the man she deserves.
But as I pull her back up, I give her plump ass a squeeze, and she gasps in a mix of arousal and pain. She tries to cover it by asking a question. “What’s changed?”
“You.” I brush a chaste kiss across her pinkening cheeks and whisper in her ear, “Tell me, princess. Are you blushing from this dance or because I just reminded you who owns that perfect ass?”
She gives me a coy smile and looks up at me through her lashes, arching one brow as if to saywouldn’t you like to know.So I grab a handful of her ass again and she blushes even brighter and buries her face in my chest giving me all the answer I need.
I laugh into the top of her hair, and she only comes back out once her flaming cheeks have cooled. “I haven’t seen the governor yet, maybe he didn’t come?” There’s an excitement in her voice that makes me want to lie just to keep her smiling.Honesty and loyalty.
“I ran into him in the hallway.”
Her face blanches. “Did he say anything?”
“Only idle threats from a limp dick old man.”
“He knows, doesn’t he?” Panic leaks into her voice and her eyes flit around the room nervously.
I wrap my hand more tightly around hers and hold it to my chest. “He doesn’t know anything. But more importantly, he can’tproveanything.” Her brows pinch together, and I want to kiss the tension away, but I know that won’t help.
“How many people do you think I’ve killed?”
“What?”Her attention whips back to me, eyes scrutinizing.
“Well, if I started when I was fifteen and averageat leastone per month—”
“Finn, where the fuck are you going with this?” she whisper-yells, and internally I am celebrating that she now looks infuriated rather than forlorn.
“If we’re being conservative, that’s more or less a hundred and fifty people—”
“Finn,”she hisses again, and I take her by surprise with a spin under my arm.
“As I was saying, it’s not a small number. Do you know how many times I’ve been convicted for murder? Or even arrested?”
“I don’t know,” she says stubbornly, still peering around at our neighboring dancers.
“Oh, come on, take a guess.”
“Jesus, Finn, I don’t know…ten?”
“Zero.”
She stops in her tracks. “Zero?”
“I’ve never even been brought in for questioning about a murder or disappearance.”
She nibbles on her lip. “You’re really that good?”
I chuckle. “Baby, I’m the best.”
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Dance with me.”
