Page 423 of Lodestar

“That two ornery women decided to get along because of a third ornery woman.”

Chuckling, I retorted, “A match made in hell.”

“Seems like it. Aoife’s the odd man out in the bunch.”

“Why?”

“She’s best friends with Jennifer.”

“She is?” My brows rose. “Why didn’t Savannah invite her the other week?”

“Aoife doesn’t particularly like Savannah. They get along okay, but they’re not each other’s favorite people.”

Offended on her behalf, I asked, “Why?”

“Because of how Savannah became friends with Jen. You know, that whole pretending to be a client of her accounting firm so she could grab some of her DNA to check if she was an O’Donnelly love child?”

My nose crinkled. “Yeah, there are better meet-cutes.”

“Right?”

“Savannah always makes life difficult for herself.”

“Like you don’t.”

“I’m not saying I don’t,” I argued. “Just saying she does things the hard way. When I arrived, she was panicking because she’d invited Paddy along so he and Jennifer could get to know one another.”

“Why would she do that?” he shouted over the music as a hostess appeared from behind a bouncer as we made it intoRussu’satrium and were guided up to the VIP section.

“She was trying to be kind but it never works out for her,” I called back.

The hostess swept open a door and led us onto a private balcony that was ours for the night.

Not unsurprisingly, the balconies around us were in the dark, while the nightclub itself was awash with red lights. It wasn’t particularly to my taste, seeing as it looked like Bram Stoker’s idea of great interior design, but the music was heavy techno and it reminded me of when I’d spent six months undercover in Berlin—great times—so I was already hopped-up.

As Conor tipped the hostess, I rushed to the balcony and peered over it.

Jennifer had gotten us onto the highest floor—I owed her one as I’d have wanted to kill people if I’d been stuffed into that crowd.

From below, I could see a massive fountain that pulsed to the beat of the music while somehow simultaneously resembling a pool of blood.

Creepy but cool.

Maybe I just had the personality for it?

When arms slid around my waist, I didn’t jump or startle because the scent of oranges hit me first.

I sighed into his embrace, stopping the faint bounce on my toes as he held me tighter. His chin settled on my shoulder as we looked over to the chaos of the dance floor.

I had no desire to wade into the fray, was more than happy up here even if it was a little too close for comfort to another time, another place, and another man.

When he pressed his mouth to my shoulder, I smiled as I slipped my hands over his.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t mind that a guy was taller than me. Not when he smelled of oranges and had floppy brown hair that tickled my cheek.

Tilting my face to the side, I waited for him to work his way up my throat. Sensations shot down my spine from that simple touch, reminding me of what it felt like to bealive. Something that was happening with such frequency that, soon it would become the norm, but I knew I’d never forget what a gift he was.

As his mouth brushed along my jawline, I sighed as, finally, we came together.

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