Page 27 of Irish King


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Connor

I’d never before seen a woman look so effortlessly beautiful. The dark purple dress hugged her curves, the black boots reaching her knees and hinting at the no-doubt luscious thighs just above. Her cleavage was exposed just enough to be tasteful, while still making me half-hard just by stealing a glance.

I couldn’t get over her effect on me. I worked in the business of beautiful women, yet Claire had them all beat.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her tone no-nonsense.

“We’re going to lunch. Thatwasthe plan, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t be a smartass. I want to know where we’re going, specifically.”

There wasn’t a woman alive who I would allow talk to me like that. Once more I found myself drawn to her moxie; the way she said what was on her mind without worry or doubt.

“You familiar with Juniper?” I asked.

Her eyebrows arched above her sunglasses. Juniper was one of the most expensive, exclusive restaurants in Boston. Regular guys would’ve needed months to even hope to get a reservation.

I, on the other hand, was no regular guy. A quick phone call to the manager and my name had been all it’d taken to get a reservation on such short notice. He’d even been more than accommodating for the little favor I’d had in mind.

Though Claire was doing her best to seem non-perplexed, I could easily sense that she was more than a little surprised that I’d managed to score a table at such a place.

“You’ll like it,” I went on. “Food’s decent, but the atmosphere is sublime. And it’s nice and public if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No bullshit if I get in this car?” she asked. “And I don’t like these windows.”

“Fair enough.” I reached forward to the electronic panel on the partition between the back and the driver’s seat. I tapped a few times, easing the intensity of the tint in the back windows of the car. “How’s that?”

Another moment of thought. “Fine.”

“And there won’t be any bullshit. Just a nice lunch.”

She nodded, taking a breath before sliding into the back of the car. Her scent filled the air, something sweet and intoxicating. I shut the door, walked around and got in myself, then gestured to the driver to take us on our way. The car smoothly left the parking lot and onto the main road.

“So, Juniper, huh?” She took off her sunglasses and tucked them into her purse. Even in the low light of the back of the car, her eyes were striking.

“Thought it’d be a nice treat for you.”

She smiled in a somewhat challenging way. “You think I’m the type of woman who needs a little treat?”

“Sure do. I might not know you all that well, Claire, but I can easily see you’re the type who’s used to working so hard that indulging herself every now and then doesn’t come easily to you.”

“And just how can you tell that?”

“The way you carry yourself, with confidence and determination. That’s why I knew right away that your clueless little woman routine last night was a total farce.”

She chuckled, amused at my words. “Hard to be something you’re not.”

The greater part of me believed her. While she was no doubt tough, she did seem out of her element—as if by meeting me for lunch, she was doing something that was outside of her comfort zone.

All the same, there was the small chance that she might be dangerous. A man like myself had many enemies, people who wanted what I had. Using a beautiful woman to get close enough for the target to leave his guard down was one of the oldest tricks in the book.

An expression of realization flashed on her face.

“Hold on a second. I haven’t been to Juniper, but aren’t they dinner only?”

“They are. I called in a favor. We have the place all to ourselves.”

However impressed she’d been before, my words took it to another level. She said nothing at first, simply sitting there with her eyebrows arched. It was a guarded sort of impressed—the kind where you didn’t want the other person to know how you really felt.

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