Page 19 of Precious Hazard (Perfectly Imperfect #11)

“Alright. How about this one?” I grab the hanger with my brown dress on it. “The hemline falls just above my knees.”

Sienna wrinkles her nose. “Definitely not. You’re going to a fundraiser with snobs. Nothing other than a floor-length gown will do.”

My shoulders sag. “This is the most conservative dress I have, Sienna.”

“Let me see what we have to work with.” She nudges me out of the way and plants herself in front of my closet, pushing the hangers to the side one by one.

“Too short.”

Swoosh .

“Boring.”

Swoosh .

“Way too short. Dreadful color. Too much cleavage.”

Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh.

My butt hits the edge of the bed, and I fall back on the mattress, closing my eyes.

That cute pink dress that barely brushes my thighs and the four-inch fuck-me stilettos that I planned to put on would have sent Satan’s conservative ass straight into a meltdown.

But as soon as Sienna burst into my room, insisting that she absolutely needed to help me pick my outfit for today’s event, my devious plan went out the window.

“Tara? Why do you have five men’s suit jackets in your closet?”

My eyes snap open. Shit. I completely forgot about my hidden stash. “Those are your brother’s. I forgot to bring my coat with me when we went out, so he let me borrow his.”

“You forgot to bring your coat… five times?”

“Uh-huh.”

A playful smirk lights up her face. “You two really do like each other.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Ah, why are you saying that… like that?”

“Well, I’ll be honest. At first, I was a little skeptical. You and Arturo are very different. Like two separate species that were never meant to occupy the same habitat, never mind have other involvement.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” I say under my breath.

“But you’ve been dating for weeks now. He’s taken you over to his place, and he’s never brought a woman there before. And you, you agreed to go with him to this fundraiser, and I know exactly how much you hate these kinds of events.”

Of course I agreed. When I initially refused to go, DeVille threatened to send his IRS buddies back to Naos!

“Also, every time he calls, you get this look on your face,” she continues, smiling delightedly.

“It’s like you’re bursting with exciting news but are trying to be all cool about it.

As if you’re too embarrassed to show your enthusiasm, so you try to hide it.

But the twinkle in your eyes can’t be suppressed or hidden. ”

She thinks I’m excited when I’m actually trying to hide my torment?

If my eyes sparkle with anything, it’s with the ire that man stirs in me.

Although I must admit, I do get perverse pleasure from discovering which buttons of his I can push when we go out.

It’s fun to watch as he tries to appear all lovey-dovey in front of everyone, even though I can totally tell he’s fuming.

I love seeing that left eye of his start twitching.

Still, he’s not a bad actor. He’s got practically everyone convinced that he’s my perfect boyfriend.

Not me. I’d rather suffer never-ending heartburn than date Satan DeVille for real.

The only decent thing about him is that he’s a good kisser.

Amazing kisser. But I’d never admit that out loud.

It’s enough that our kiss keeps playing on repeat in my thoughts, and I can’t seem to shut down the channel.

Or forget the achy throbbing in my clit when he crushed me against his chest that day, all while he—

“But I think the jackets are a dead giveaway.” Sienna’s voice brings me back to reality. “You probably already know about his OCD when it comes to his suits. I bet you’re just testing Arturo’s boundaries. And he’s letting you! So there… It’s like an Animal Planet-worthy mating dance. Soooo cute.”

My sister-in-law is delusional. A mating dance ? WTF?! Maybe I should tell her how I want to slit her brother’s throat in hopes that it would save me from being forced to marry the bastard. But I can’t. I’m sure that whatever I tell Sienna about this situation, she’ll relay it all to Drago.

As for the jackets… I can’t help that I’m always cold.

Or that I’m slightly forgetful. It’s not like I’ve been stealing his suit jackets on purpose.

Yeah, they are exquisite. Incredible quality.

And they smell nice. I love that, when DeVille wraps his jacket around me, there’s always that lingering bit of body heat.

And I do appreciate his willingness to lend me his rather than making me go back to the car to get my own coat.

So what if it happened the last five times?

That just proves that I’m a bit absent-minded. Nothing new.

Okay. I am doing it on purpose. But only so I can piss Satan off.

“You should definitely go with this one.” Sienna takes a simple gray silk gown off the hanger and throws it at me. “Pair it with that designer-cut cashmere coat I bought for you. Unless you’d rather have Arturo’s jacket?”

“I’ll make sure to bring my coat,” I mumble.

“Just admit it. You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?”

“You got here ten minutes early!” Tara snaps as she slides her arms into the sleeves of my Armani jacket. “I barely had time to finish my makeup and avoid leaving with only my left eye lined like some crazy pirate, never mind remembering my coat.”

A shrill ring explodes from my phone. I fish it out of my pocket and bring it to my ear while watching Tara adjust the front of her dress. Tito’s voice comes through the line, but the meaning of his words is lost to me because I’m preoccupied with the way the gray silk hugs her gorgeous breasts.

“Say that again,” I grumble into the phone.

“They’re shutting us down. This guy says he’s from the DOB, but won’t give me any other details.”

Fucking great. What’s crawled up the Department of Buildings’ ass this time?

“Make sure he stays put. I’ll be there in twenty.” I hang up and meet Riggo’s stare in the rearview mirror. “We need to reroute, Riggo. Head to the Brooklyn construction site. And floor it.”

“Hmm. I didn’t know the fundraiser was being held at a construction site.” Tara’s now slouched so far she’s practically melting into the buttery-soft leather of the car’s back seat. Her eyes are trained on a pocket paperback in her hands. Where did she pull that out from?

“I have to deal with an emergency.”

“Works for me.”

She licks the pad of her finger and turns the page. It’s a common enough action, albeit an impolite one in public. It shouldn’t be as sensual as it was. The tip of her tongue peeking out from between her decadent lips has my mind warping, and I’m immediately catapulted back to our “fake” kiss.

A blast wave of sensations hits me all at once.

“A business matter, I presume?” she continues, still focused on the page in her book.

“Yes. You know it’s rude to read while speaking with someone?”

“Sure. But I’m certain that Barbara’s problems are way more serious than yours, so she needs my attention more than you.”

“Barbara?”

“Uh-huh. She’s been hired as a housekeeper for an evil and extremely obnoxious marquess who’s trying to blackmail her into a marriage of convenience. It’s the only way he can get his hands on the inheritance, along with the title of duke, from his older brother.”

My eyes are glued to her mouth as she licks her finger again.

“I can totally relate to poor Barbara, considering the circumstances,” she adds with a smirk.

She flipped that page just seconds ago. There’s no way she can read that fast. Is she doing it on purpose? Teasing me? Flicking her tongue between her beguiling lips?

“Are you skimming?” I ask.

“Yup. It’s my fourth reread. I’m skipping ahead to the good part.”

“Which is?”

“The marquess tries to force himself on her. But Barbara gets saved by this introverted gardener, who recently returned home from a war. Later, she finds out that he’s actually the duke’s long-lost son.

The legitimate heir to the duke’s estate and title.

” A small smile pulls at her lips. “The true hero kills the evil marquess and then marries Barbara.”

I make myself look away from Tara’s lips and focus on the book in her hands.

The colorful cover has a Regency-era woman in a fancy dress clinging to a bare-chested guy, whose ruffled white shirt is somehow pooled at his waistline.

It looks like the kind of thing Sienna likes to read.

She used to leave her paperbacks lying all over the house.

I must have wondered at least a hundred times about what sort of satisfaction a woman as smart as her could get out of such trashy literature.

Shaking my head, I glance at my Rolex, eager to get the new shitshow at the construction site over with. But like a magnet, my eyes drift back to Tara’s mouth. To those… Cushiony. Soft. Lustrous. Lips.

Lips that are still smirking.

“Well, sorry to spoil your fantasy, Tara, but there is no duke in shining armor who’ll save you from marrying me.”

“I know.” She shrugs as if she doesn’t care, but I notice her smile dim for half a heartbeat. “That’s okay, because I made sure it would be worth it in the end. Didn’t I?”

That she did. What the fuck possessed me to agree to give her twelve million dollars in our divorce?

Lying on the seat beside me, my phone gives off another insistent shrill, and Ajello’s name lights up the screen.

Answering it, I launch right into my report on our most recent drug shipment delivery, all while my eyes remain glued to Tara’s lips.

By the time I finish updating the boss, Riggo is pulling up next to the cordoned-off site where the demolition and cleanup of the old structure have nearly been completed.

We’re ready to start excavation for the new foundations next week.

Before we come to a full stop, I’m out of the car and hurrying toward two men standing next to the marked-off area.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I bark.

“That’s the owner?” a man in a cheap navy suit asks Tito.