Page 37 of Detective for the Debutante (SAFE Haven Security #3)

LEIGH

M urphy backs us against the wall, darker in the shadows of the hallway to the bathroom, as he masters the kiss just like he’s mastered my heart.

I hadn’t meant to let that part slip out.

I was going to tell him about what Mr. Vanderweel had said. Charlie had looked just as shocked as I was, so I know it was Mr. Vanderweel and not his son who created that truth. But what had started as just a conversation had shifted.

It was true.

The only man whose girlfriend I want to be is kissing me boneless against the wall in a very public venue. And I want more. His lips trail down to my jaw, tracing the line back to my ear while his hand grips my hip, holding the leg up I’ve wrapped around him.

“Mine,” he growls against the skin, nipping at the column of my throat before pressing his lips to the pulse jumping wildly beneath my skin.

Gooseflesh ripples through my body, leaving desire in an aching wake.

I tug at the starched shirt tucked into his pants, my hands finding the warm skin of his back as I hold him close to me.

“Yours,” I murmur.

His mouth claims mine again, his hand finding the opening of the slit, squeezing my ass since the thong I’ve worn with the dress provides no barrier. I gasp and he takes it, just like he takes everything else I have to give.

My fingers dig into skin and he yanks his mouth from me, eyes on fire as breath saws in and out of his lungs, crushing his chest against my breasts.

“You make me forget where we are, Stóirín,” he says, leaning his forehead against mine.

“You have the same impact on me. It wasn’t me who kissed you brainless against a bathroom wall,” I retort and slide my leg back down his before tugging my dress back into place.

He cracks a smile, his hands landing on my hips.

“Do you have to go back in there?” he asks.

I want to say no. Every part of me would prefer to leave with Murphy right now, to go find somewhere private where we can get horizontal—or vertical, I’m not picky.

But Charlie has told me numerous times tonight how I’m making this event bearable for him.

And on the selfish side of things, I’ve had an amazing conversation with Gavin Ellery, the CEO of Project Justice.

“Yes, and so do you,” I say as he groans and tugs at the bow tie around his neck.

“I’d rather go home. Just you and me.”

The fire banked in his eyes heats up for a heartbeat and my core throbs.

“I’m looking forward to that too. But for right now, we both have a job to do. Then we can go home where I can have my way with you,” I tease, palming him through the front of his pants.

He locks his fingers around my wrist and yanks my hand up to his mouth to burn a kiss into my palm.

“You’re the fucking devil,” he growls, nipping at the skin at the base of my thumb.

“Me? You’re the reason I’m walking back in there with drenched panties,” I whisper, drilling his chest with my finger.

The smirk he gives me is one set to incinerate said panties.

“I can’t help what you do to me, Stóirín.”

I feel the vibration of his words more than I hear them. Yep, my body is officially on fire, and my heart melted somewhere along the way.

“Murphy! When you say things like that…”

How do I put into words how he makes me feel? Like I’m flying and falling at once. Like I’m myself, but more than I ever thought I could be. Because of all these emotions bubbling inside, overwhelming any ability at rational thought.

“When I say things like that…what?” he asks when I don’t continue.

“That you can’t help what I do to you. What about what you do to me?” I say, breathless.

“What do I do to you, sweetheart?” It’s practically a growl that has me melting against the wall.

He’s already told me how he feels, so I guess it’s my turn. Not like the words would be held back even if I wanted to. But I’m tired of fighting them. Of holding them in.

“I…I’m falling for you. And I know our situation is temporary. I know you’re moving to DC soon. But I can’t seem to help it, especially when you say things like that. They’re a turn-on but something more.”

He nods, his gaze softening as the heat simmers between us.

“I understand. And, yes, I may be moving in a few weeks, but I meant what I said, sweetheart. In every way I can mean it.”

Holy crap!

That’s a big admission from someone who was convinced we didn’t belong together. He reaches out, gliding his index finger along my jawline and I shiver, trying to process what he’s telling me without saying the words.

Not like you’re using them either .

No. Because it’s too soon.

Standing on my tiptoes, I brush a kiss on his lips before wiping my thumb across them.

“We’re not done talking about this, but we need to get back. And you don’t need to be wearing my lipstick when you do,” I tell him.

He smiles.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s not really your color.”

He barks out a laugh and reaches behind him, his dress shirt stretching as he tucks it back in.

Done wiping the lipstick from his mouth, I step back, admiring my tattooed, well-dressed warrior.

“Ready to head back in?” he asks.

“I need to…” I gesture to the bathroom and he nods.

“I’ll wait.”

Swoon.

The mirror in the bathroom shows a small mess of my updo, and I try to fix it as best I can before I reapply my lipstick. With a nod, I step back out and he grabs my hand, weaving our fingers together as we walk toward the main room again.

At the closed door, I reluctantly release his hand.

“I’ll see you later?” I ask, closing my fingers against my palm to curb the need to reach for him again.

“Count on it,” he whispers and steps back, allowing me to step through the door first.

My bag is in my hand, but I can’t shake the feeling I’ve left something behind as I move back to the table where Charlie is waiting.

But I have.

My heart.

It’s with the man making his way to a back table while his eyes stay glued to me.

I can’t turn around to confirm it.

But I know it the same way I know I’ve fallen.

Completely.

Irrevocably.

Head over heels in love with Murphy O’Connell.