Page 58 of Savage Promises (Quinlan Empire #2)
Raina
T he strapless dress I bought, after trying on way too many, clings to my curvy hips and flares out past my butt with yards of midnight-blue satin spilling down my legs.
It has a tight bodice, a drop waist, and sharp reverse pleats.
Not a single bead or rhinestone in sight, and yet somehow, I look expensive.
And out of place. Sequins and leather are more my style, if I had a choice.
The scandalously high slit up my thigh says danger which suits me, but the rest is all sleek sophistication I never thought I could pull off. This isn’t me. And yet, here I am, dressed like a woman who belongs in Connor’s world.
It feels too elegant. Too luxurious. I’m an awkward ex-federal agent who still wears her high-school jeans.
“Enjoy the view,” I grumble to Valdrin. “It’ll be the last time you see me dressed like a doll.”
“Dolls are what men like Connor Quinlan want,” he says with a bite.
I hide a scoff. Not the Connor Quinlan who fucked me.
“But you need to tame those wild waves.” Valdrin presents me with two black tortoise hair combs wrapped in delicate lavender tissue paper.
I don’t bother to argue and push long unruly blonde strands off my shoulder. “My hair hasn’t seen a blow dryer in a year.”
“You don’t say.” Valdrin swoops up my hair on each side and securely fastens the combs to my head. “That’s better,” he says, his voice sounding clipped like he was about to call me something other than Raina.
When I catch him studying my face, he turns away.
“Any words of advice?” I ask to break the tension. “I’m more used to hiding in the shadows collecting evidence.”
“Flirt. Make him like you.” Valdrin pulls up to the red carpet, and someone opens the door for me.
“Flirt,” I mutter, stepping out of the Benz.
“Good luck,” he tells me and drives off.
I plaster a snooty pout on my face to look like I belong at this thing. I catch myself in the tall window panels near the entrance and can’t believe it’s me.
I don’t look like me. But I look good. Really good. Connor may not even recognize me.
Stepping into the grand ballroom feels like I’m on a movie set. This doesn’t seem real. Like I’m in another world.
Gold and crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling cast a warm glow over Manhattan’s elite.
Elegant tables with pure white linens, crystal glasses, and white flowers, which I heard were flown in from greenhouses in Japan, look like they’re prepared for photo shoots rather than actual meals.
Every inch of this room and every guest drips with wealth and power.
I don’t have to search very long when I spot Connor leaning against a bar in one corner. The Irish Mob boss is with another man, deep in conversation, sporting neither a smile nor a scowl.
A slow-moving fire simmers under my skin.
What the hell was that?
Aw fuck , he is even more stunning than I remembered him.
All the booze that night must have dulled my memory.
The jet-black tux hugs his frame like it’s been tailored just for him.
The crisp white shirt beneath splays open at the collar.
The rebel skipped a tie, like he doesn’t care about the formality of these events.
Like, he doesn’t care about anything . He might as well be a beacon, and I’m a boat heading for a crash landing on a rocky shore.
Engage the enemy. Flirt.
I’m two left feet and tongue-tied. I need to get insanely drunk and growly. That’s who Connor liked, apparently. Whoever the hell I am now, he may not look twice at me.
A tray of champagne flutes passes me, and I snag one.
Ignoring Connor’s outrageous and undeniable beauty, I saunter over, looking anywhere but at him. Luck blesses me when the other man he was speaking to walks away. I weave around the crowd and manage to bag a spot right next to Connor at the bar.
I give him a passive-aggressive bump to get his attention. “Sorry.”
“Excuse me , lass.”
Lass...
Oh dear God, that’s right. If Connor wasn’t perfect enough, he speaks with an Irish accent.
“No problem,” I say, resisting an eye roll at how unbelievably sexy he sounds.
“Holy shite. It’s you ,” he drawls in a deep and dangerous tone.
I play it cool and swivel my head his way. Feigning surprise, I purr, “Oh, hi. Cory? Cal?”
He frowns. “Connor. But I never gave you my name.”
Gulp , that’s right.
“That’s why I was guessing.”
“And you are?” He sticks his hand out to me.
Diversion. Diversion.
“I’m,” I tilt my wrist just enough for my flute to tip ever so slightly. A teeny splash of champagne hits Connor’s polished shoes. “Oh, shoot!” I gasp, coyly.
Connor glances down at the golden splotch of wetness beading up on his size-fourteen Ferragamos. He looks up, and when his eyes meet mine again, something dark flickers behind them. Amusement? Interest? A warning? Maybe all three.
My stomach has figured it out. A slow, twisting heat that I have no business feeling for a man I’m supposed to kill spreads through me like a wildfire licking dry kindling.
He laughs in a low, rich sound. “You’re blushing, lass,”
My skin prickles uncomfortably, something inside me going taut. But I force myself to hold his gaze. “I ruined your shoes.”
“That is one way to get my attention.” Confidence wafting off him, Connor takes hold of my wrist. His thumb brushes my pulse throbbing under my skin. “If you wanted to fuck me again, nimh , all you had to do was march this lovely body right up to me.”
Did he just call me a nymph? As in nymphomaniac ? What in the hell did we do that night?
This man is too cool. Too smooth. And way too confident.
I bite my lip, pushing away how he can fluster me with that voice. To distract myself, I ghost my finger over his jacket. “I had no idea you’d be here.”
He catches my fingers before I can take hold of the raw silk lapel. “You look different,” he rasps and gives me a once over, his eyes locking on the slit in my gown.
“So do you,” I counter immediately. “We met in a sketchy bar.”
“Dressed up or torn jeans, you are the finest thing I’ve seen in a long time.
Haven’t laid eyes on one that matches you, lass.
But we’re still strangers. Now, tell me your name, or I'll force it out of you.” Connor’s deadly voice sends shivers down my spine.
“And not in any way you’d find enjoyable. ”