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It’s a showy car, grabbing attention every place I go. But for whatever reason, I don’t mind the attention now. It doesn’t bother me that people stare, that I can no longer blend in to be unseen.
I think that has a lot to do with Shane’s influence. And I’m sure to thank him for it every time we wind down at night, curl together in his bed or mine and spend the next few hours exploring what we mean to each other.
Standing at the charity function with Ames, I’m attempting not to laugh.
On one side of the room, Shane and the rest of the Inferno stand together, a gorgeous sight all on its own, but a silent threat to three others who are hosting the function.
The governor keeps adjusting the collar of his tuxedo shirt, his eyes drifting to the boys before glancing over at me. Every so often, he approaches the front door and checks the guest list, I assume to make sure all of our names were, in fact, on it.
Funnier than that are Hillary and Paul.
Both stick close together, their arms entwined and that large, three-carat diamond ring of hers sparkling just as brightly as her red sequin dress.
They make their way through the crowd, greeting guests and playing the perfect power couple, but there’s an edge of fear in their expressions, their eyes keeping the Inferno in view at all times.
Several times, I’ve seen Tanner or one of the other boys lift their glass of champagne and smile politely in greeting. It makes me laugh each time.
For the hour we’ve been here, I’ve kept an eye out for Scott. But he’s never made an appearance. Either he’s busy with something else or he’s playing the part of chauffeur still and wouldn’t be suitable as a guest.
For all I know, he’s waiting outside with the cars at the beck and call of them governor.
While surveying the crowd, my gaze trails back to the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He stands tall and proud in a tux that’s missing the bow tie, the collar buttons of his crisp white shirt undone so that just a hint of the tattoo beneath is visible.
But that’s Shane.
He hates those clothes and this environment, so he always finds a small way to make it bearable, even if it separates him from the rest of the crowd.
Our eyes meet across the crowded room, heat overtaking his once bored expression as he crooks a finger for me to walk over to him.
I tip my chin in defiance. Even though there’s nothing more I want right now than to be at his side, I can’t let him think he can summon me over whenever he wants. This is a give-and-take, and if he feels the need to have me next to him, he can come to me.
A smirk of approval curls the corner of his mouth, his head tipping one way to say something to Damon before he makes his way through the crowd, his elegant and long stride seducing me as he moves closer.
He stops in front of me, so close that I have to crane my neck to look up at him.
“Care to dance?”
Smiling at that, I accept, say goodbye to Ames then allow him to lead me out to the center where a bunch of other guests have been likewise enjoying the music.
Shane wraps an arm around my waist while taking one of my hands. He leads the dance, and I discover yet again the many ways his body can move.
He’s an incredible dancer, and I have to think it’s the reason he can move the way he does in bed. His coordination and rhythm have left me dizzy and sated whether on a dance floor or beneath the sheets, his body always leading mine even when I’m too tired to keep going.
Drawing me in close to him, Shane’s arm tightens around my body, and his mouth moves to my ear. “Tanner gave me more information about what will happen tonight.”
A smile pulls at my lips. I’ve been wondering.
“Apparently, they altered Everly’s insurance information and made a fake claim. It alerted Scott, just like we knew it would, so he ran off to investigate the false address we had listed.”
I’m not sure if I should feel sorry for Scott or not. From what he’s said, he’s desperate to help his sister. And I still have no idea why she keeps running from him.
Only time will tell whether his motives are pure in his desire to help her, or if something more sinister is going on that keeps her from staying in one place too long.
Shane spins me away from his body then pulls me back, our hips swaying in beat with the music before his mouth is at my ear again.
“Sawyer tagged Scott’s car with a tracker then followed him for a few days to take photos of the people he was driving around and dropping off in different places for the governor.”
Brows tugging together at that, I wonder what could be so awful about a few pictures. I ask as much, and Shane grins.
