Page 27 of A Convenient Secret (Merged #3)

“Lils, the men are waiting downstairs already.” Saar opens the door so everyone but us can file out.

My heart hammers and my cheeks burn as I look at the gown. Earlier, I donned the robe while I was in the bathroom, but how would I explain dragging the gown in there?

“Do you need some privacy?” Celeste takes my hand. “You can get dressed in the closet.” She picks up my dress and hangs it in the walk-in just as the last rack of gowns disappears. She closes the door gently, and I exhale the breath I was holding.

I hurry to put the gown on, and when I step out of the closet, all three of my friends gasp. I straighten the skirt, feeling self-conscious .

I used to play dress-up with my friends, spending all Saturdays roaming the stores and getting fitted for dresses. Where is that carefree girl now?

I banish the melancholy quickly. I didn’t get this far to get homesick.

Twirling, I laugh. “Let’s get this party started.”

Caleb and Celeste’s penthouse has the design of a loft, both levels overlooking Central Park, connected by a glass staircase.

“Oh my, it looks like a James Bond convention.” Saar smirks.

The four men, founders of Merged, stand downstairs. Dressed in tuxedos, they are all handsome in their own way. Unlike our lively chitchat upstairs, each of them is on the phone.

Caleb types furiously, sitting on the sofa. Xander is leaning against the backrest beside him, his gaze buried in his device.

Corm is talking on the phone in one corner by the windows, and Declan is swiping his screen by the staircase.

“Are they mad at each other?” Cora leans forward, examining the scene.

“No, just workaholics.” Celeste rolls her eyes.

I slide my sweaty hands into the well-disguised pockets of my flowing skirt, admiring my fake husband.

I’ve seen him in a tux a few times, but every time threatens my vital functions. I clench my thighs, my heart rate spikes, my lungs can’t fill with oxygen, and my body overheats.

“I left the lipstick,” I remember, and dash back to Mia’s room.

I snatch the tube, and glimpse myself in the mirror. I look… I look like me. It’s a strange feeling to see the woman I used to be blending with the woman I became. I’m not sure if I’m ready to examine it.

Maybe I should make something up and stay here. Help with Amelie, or… Before I can chicken out completely, I rush from the room to join the others.

My friends are downstairs already. I pause at the top, gingerly putting one foot forward. I gather my skirt and commence my descent.

If I expected an approving look or a glimpse of surprise… If I expected that romance novel moment when he looks up and sees her dressed up… that time-arresting, heart-stopping moment of uncensored admiration, I would have been bitterly disappointed.

Declan doesn’t lift his gaze from his phone.

The night turns out fantastically. While the men work the room, the four of us share laughter and a few drinks, and when I don’t think about my aloof fake husband, I finally taste freedom I haven’t felt in a long while.

We gossip about other guests and giggle like schoolgirls, gaining us judging looks from older New York socialites.

Saar bids money on ridiculous items in a silent auction. The gala is extravagant, and everyone is pulling out checkbooks without a second thought. It warms my heart, because the proceeds go to a children’s hospital.

“If I don’t go home or pump soon, this gown will be sporting a new design in my breast region.” Celeste cups her boobs, scrunching her face.

A couple beside us at the bar scrambles to the side, as if being in our company could give them a disease.

“Don’t go yet.” I wrap my arm through Celeste’s.

Saar downs her drink and raises her arms, shimmying to the music. “We all need to stay and protect Cora.” She points toward the dance floor.

Cora is twirling around in Xander’s arms, laughing.

“I’m sure she can protect herself.” Celeste snorts and checks her breasts again.

“I would love to hear her when she tells him off,” I muse.

“Do you think he invited her because he wants to…” Celeste arches her eyebrow .

“I think Xander always wants to, and with anyone,” Saar says.

“I still don’t think she needs our protection,” Celeste says.

“I agree. Are you going to pump? I need to go to the bathroom.” I look at Celeste.

“I’m going to find Caleb and head home.”

“Party pooper.” Saar pouts and puts her glass to her lips.

A large hand stops her. “May I have a dance, Mrs. Quinn?” Corm takes the drink away from her.

She beams at him before they both saunter to the dance floor.

As I turn to find the bathroom, a solid wall presses against me from behind.

“You look ravishing tonight.” Declan’s breath fans my neck as he leans in to whisper in my ear.

A full-body shiver rakes through me. His heat. His scent. His voice. That fucking voice will be the end of me.

No one can know.

We’re covered by a group of men, hidden from view, but still…

“How would you know? You haven’t even looked at me.” I want to face him, but he snakes his arm around my waist and holds me in place .

My heart rate goes haywire. The possessive move is everything I ever wanted, but what the hell?

“I have looked at only you all night, Seagull.”

“Hardly.” I hope he hears the figurative eye roll in my voice. Okay, the wine perhaps speaks a bit too.

“Don’t be a brat. You spent most of the night chatting and drinking with the girls. You laughed at the comedian’s performance, and had to wipe your eyes when he made that lame joke about polar bears—”

“That was funny,” I protest, all the while trying to comprehend what he is saying. Has he really paid so much attention to me?

“No, it wasn’t.”

I chuckle. “One could never accuse you of a sense of humor.”

His large hand skims my rib cage, stopping just below the swell of my breasts. A soft groan escapes him, and I realize I leaned into him.

“Perhaps, but you can’t accuse me of not seeing you.”

“Why from afar?” My voice is just a breath.

It’s strange talking when my back is to him, but I welcome it at the same time. Like I can hide my reactions. Though I’m sure he feels my goose bumps and my shudders, just like I feel his hardness.

“Two reasons.”

“Care to share? ”

“If I got close to you, I would have ripped this dress off and done things to you, Lily, that are not noble, nor appropriate.”

My breath hitches. It’s a good thing his arm is wrapped around me because my knees buckle. “That’s one. What is the second reason?”

“There are still traces of a decent man in my darkened soul. Traces that stop me from destroying you. You’re so young and vibrant, and seeing you today with your friends… I shouldn’t tie you to me and my baggage.”

I make to step forward, and he loosens the grip, so I can turn and look at him. It’s like facing a storm head-on. “Shouldn’t?”

He traces my cheek. I feel the brush of his touch down in my panties.

“You think I didn’t even look at you tonight?

” He utters a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head.

“Tonight or any other day, I see you. I see you… humming a song while you tidy the kitchen. Reading to my kids and laughing with them… How you stifle your yawns so you can read one more page of your book… The way your eyes sparkle with curiosity every time you discover something new… Or how they retreat to the past you hide… Or how you tag on your sleeves just before you start spitting out words of anxiety… How you always see a glass half full. I fucking can’ t unsee you, little Seagull, and I’m over trying. ”

And there goes my poor heart. “You’re done trying?” A grin tugs at my lips.

“Unless you stop me.” The intensity of his gaze is scorching, imploring, lethal.

I don’t want him to stop… but his attention is almost too much. “You barely looked at me for months, and now I put on a pretty dress and you…” He what? What does it even mean he’s done trying? “It makes you shallow,” I tease, trying to insert some lightness.

He gives me his signature look, which is a mixture of boredom and annoyance. “You married me for money.” He deadpans.

I giggle. “Fair enough. We are both shallow.”

We stare at each other for a moment, my entire body awakened by his closeness and attention.

I remember my earlier need. “I need to go to the lady’s room.”

He nods and steps to the side, but as I step forward, he follows. “Are you coming with me?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t follow me to the toilets.”

“I can, but no worries; I’ll wait for you outside.”

I narrow my eyes. Who is this man? What is happening now? “You will wait for me in front of the bathroom? ”

“Is something wrong with your ears? Was the music too loud?”

“Oh, no, no, you don’t get to be an asshole again.”

He stops, frowning. “Again?”

I scoff. “Whatever.”

Pushing the door open, I enter the bathroom and leave him outside. Okay, so he’s done trying to stay away? While I welcome the idea, there is no need to walk me to pee. Jesus.

When I exit, I find him leaning against the wall. The sight is arresting. No matter how many times I’ve ogled him, he still makes my stomach quiver.

He looks up from his phone. “We have to go.”

“Has something happened with the kids?”

He almost smiles at that. “I love that your first concern is my children. But they are not home.”

“Where are they?”

“They are spending the weekend at my mother’s. Let’s go.” He snatches my hand and practically drags me toward the exit.

“What’s going on, Declan?” I halt.

He lets out a low growl. “I cannot pretend any longer. I told you I’m done trying. Are you coming home with me, Lily?”

If I didn’t know any better, I would think there was fear in his eyes. Like my answer is a matter of life and death. Like he needs me .

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Thank fucking God.” He moves again, a man on a mission.

The butterflies in my stomach flutter, my heart beats erratically like a spooked horse, my brain is misfiring like a drunken monkey… All a fucking zoo of reactions.

“Wait, the kids are away for the entire weekend? Did you plan this?”

Instead of answering, he grins at me.

The Declan Grump Quinn actually grins at me. I barely survived him when he was guarded, but this lighter version of him?

God help me.