Page 37 of Professional Liar
The bartender passed some drinks over the edge of the bar, and Kat used the opportunity to lean in and whisper to her sister. “Have you seen them yet?”
She shook her head and glanced back at Gerry and some kid who seemed vaguely familiar. I assumed he was the guard Kat had told me about, but something about his face pinged in my brain. It would bother me all night.
We didn’t wander, and I felt fine with that. A seat by the bar until we could leave suited me perfectly.
The pretentious ring of metal against a champagne flute silenced the crowd. An older man in his sixties with steel gray slicked back hair stepped off the stage with a microphone. He looked like he played the villain in a Bond video game, his face all points and angles.
Kat leaned in and whispered, “that’s Argyll Aristo.”
The man even had a villain name. I watched him as he started speaking, and eventually he began talking about Kat and the legacy of the Minola family. Mostly tuning him out, I caught snippets until he said Irish and hooligans in a condescending tone. My focus snapped back to his voice, and I stiffened. Kat gripped my hand hard, my bones creaking from the force of it. I didn’t mind as she was the only reason I hadn’t jumped up and smacked the man with his microphone wire.
He directed his cold eyes to Kat and held out his hand. She didn’t take it, nor the microphone, simply took one step forward and pitched her voice loud. “Thank you all for coming.” It resonated and echoed off the chamber walls.AB Punch to the throat, old man.
She continued, “I sincerely want to thank you for all your support since our father’s passing. It’s been a difficult time, but I think I’m finding my feet. It would have been impossible without my husband, Pierson St. James.”
A knot took root in my throat, sucking out the water and the air. I didn’t enjoy being the center of attention, but I couldn’t look away from her confronting a room full of her peers for my honor.
Everyone clapped softly. The clap of circumstance, a distant cousin to the golf clap. She went on. “As for the future, let’s see what it holds. My sister, Bianca, and my wonderful husband, will be beside me as we usher in this new era.”
She stepped back into the circle of my arms, and I swiped her hair to the side and planted a kiss on her neck. Marking my territory while an entire room stared me down? Probably. But she shuddered against me, and at least they couldn’t doubt the validity of our relationship.
After a couple more speeches, we drifted back to the bar for another round. “Hungry?” she asked.
“I’m always hungry,” I said, dipping my gaze down her body.
Bianca choked on her wine. “You two are gross. Keep all that sexual tension at home.”
Rodrigo skirted our little group, whispered into Bianca’s ear, and led her toward the dance floor. There were now three couples swaying to the great hits of the 80’s, and the pair joined them. “He looks familiar,” I told Kat, still trying to place him.
I wrapped my arms around her back, and she leaned into me. “I’m sure he’s not a threat. He had ample opportunity to kill her. Probably completely naked. What a story that would make.”
“We don’t joke about your safety,” I scolded.
“What are you going to do about it?”
I spun her to face me. “Is this the night you finally let me spank you for the years of torture you put us through?”
Her hands flew to her hips, like they did when she got annoyed. “I put us through, huh? Well, it takes two to…whatever… you were complicit in our entire history.”
I shoved my half-full whiskey at her. “You’re throwing words around like complicit. You must not have had enough to drink.”
She took it, and I slipped my hands around her waist again. “How long do we have to stay? I have plans with you and your dress.”
It took a second for her to throw back the liquor and grasp my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
We waved at Bianca and headed toward the exit. The car came around, and Patton squeezed in first, then Kat, and I followed.
Once Holt took off, I pulled Kat into my lap and kissed her like I’d wanted since I saw her walk out of our bathroom earlier. Her dress gave her a delicate demeanor, but I knew nothing could break her. Watching her command the attention of a crowd so easily and thoroughly, brought to light a new feeling in my chest. It surged up from the middle and took over once it gained a hold. Pride. I’d been so proud of her, I wanted to puff my chest out and declare to the whole world she belonged to me.
Of course, she’d have slapped me upside the head if I did such a thing in public, but at home, in bed, perhaps a different story.
She pulled away and whispered against my lips.“What about Patton?”
“The man has seen way worse than this. And likely will again before he retires, if I have my way.”
I shimmied my hand up to her knee and around the outside muscular curve of her thigh. She tensed, uncomfortable in such close confines with Patton watching, so I didn’t push her, only spent the half hour ride home holding her tight and tracing tiny circles on to her skin. When we almost got there, I started tracing letters there. Writing out what I wanted to do as soon as I stripped her dress off her shoulders and ripped her panties away.
She understood them all, her body sinking into mine further, relaxing as I aroused her with such a simple touch.
When we finally returned home, I helped her out and directed her straight to the bedroom. To my surprise, she actually listened to me.
She entered the house, gave the boys in the dining room a wave, and continued to the bedroom without stopping.
I shut the door and immediately took apart my cufflinks and bowtie. She stood and watched, swishing back and forth so her dress fluttered around her legs. I tugged out of the jacket and dress shirt, reminded of stripping the very same clothes off only a couple months ago.
“Now, Mrs. St. James, what’s your pleasure? Ladies choice.”
