Page 70 of Dark Alliance
My father.
One shining light in the shitstorm of the night.
Over the next two hours, the gala dies down, until every last patron returns home to sleep off the alcohol.
Once I lock up, Danny takes me home too. Despite wearing my most walkable Jimmy Choos, my feet ache.
At the estate, I kick off my heels and carry them up the grand staircase leading to my room. I sigh as soon as my bare foot touches the velvety carpeting, every step a tiny hug for my insoles. I pause beneath the mermaid, my guardian angel who shimmers with in shades of blue, red, and yellow in the winter night.
She smiles down at me, serene and silent. I wish her goodnight, touch my palm to the glass, and slip into my room, where I find Connor perched just inside my window.
When I flip on the lamp by the bed, the memory of Tony’s death assaults me.
I shake those images away and drop my shoes off by the walk-in closet. Then I approach my invited intruder, checking over his hands, his cuffs, and his suit for any signs of injury. Nothing.
Even so, I can’t look at his face without seeing Tony’s.
He sits still during my inspection, stiff and quiet.
I’ve never seen Connor appear so uncomfortable in his own skin. He almost looks human.
“This isn’t a very comfy spot.”
“I didn’t want to be presumptuous. When it was locked, I thought maybe…” He shrugs.
“Maybe I’d changed my mind?” I cross my arms and raise a brow. “And you let yourself in anyway?”
“It’s fucking cold out there, Cat. I’m not a Husky.” Connor bites his lower lip, drawing my attention to his mouth, his jawline, his scruff. Those beautiful dark eyes. Gleaming white teeth that may as well be fangs, as far as I’m concerned.
He did break in, after all, so maybe he’s part wild animal. My animal, for now.
“Connor…” I thread my fingers between his. “I want you to stay.”
“Yeah?” He peers down at our hands, then up at me through his lashes, and I glimpse that vulnerable boy again. The one who didn’t know his place in the world. The one who never got to figure it out on his own because his father put a gun in his hand and chose for him before he knew any different.
“Just for sleep, though.” I run the fingers of my free hand down his cheek. “I can’t manage more. Sorry.”
He presses his palm over my hand. “Hey. It’s fine, Cat. Sleep sounds great.” Then he pulls me in for a hug.
We cradle each other, breathing slow, our arms tight as if we’re afraid to let go. I know I am.
Maybe this is as good as it’ll ever get…the last moment we’ll ever have where we still feel connected. Maybe this won’t become a romance for the ages. Instead, we could remain a winter fling, a few days—weeks—of fun.
We made major headway tonight, so I shouldn’t feel so grim.
We have a pending alliance with the Gallaghers, the Roguilins are on their way out, and my father’s on the mend.
With each passing day, my attraction to Connor deepens. I sense the same thing happening to him given the way he embraces me, and how his eyes track my every movement.
In the way he killed Tony, then took care of the mess on my order and came here to comfort me after the dust settled.
I gaze out at the dark sky beyond his shoulder. The charcoal-colored clouds are so heavy, as if they might burst and bury the city in soot at any moment.
Or maybe that’s just my vivid imagination running wild once again.
I fall asleep shortly afterward, with my lover and biggest adversary warming my bed.
Chapter 22
