Page 96 of Broken Blood Ties

Sarah returns with two glass bottles of Veen water and hands them off as she scurries back to picking pieces off the well-spaced racks and creating a capsule on a rolling one.

Kieran continues to work on his phone, and I take time in the undisrupted silence to observe him. His brows, furrowed in a permanent V, bunch together as his fingers fly across the keyboard. His long-muscled legs are spread wide as he leans back in the most casual way. Despite what must’ve been a long day, his hair is combed perfectly in place, and I find myself wanting to mess it up a little. I’ve seen it when his copper hair is unkempt, like he’s run a hand through it several times. The pieces drag across his forehead in loose curls, and I want to twirl them around my finger.

I chew on my lip, tracing his sharp cheekbones, and when he glances up at me, he does a double take.

He raises his eyebrows, and heat flames my face, but I don’t look away. It’s a battle of the stares; one I’m determined to win until Sarah steps in front of me to divert my gaze.

“All right, here you go. Let’s try on.” She leads me to a dressing room hidden behind a velvet curtain matching the seating around it—a clear signal that whoever’s behind it is the entertainment, the main attraction.

She gives me a plaid skirt and cream blouse that looks like something a lawyer, or worse, my mother, would wear. Then she parades me out to the center of the rug to stand in front of Kieran.

Well, this is humiliating.

He looks up from his phone, and the sound of the lock button clicks before he leans an elbow on the arm of the chair and props his chin up on his fingers.

“What do you think?” Sarah asks. Him, not me. I bite down on my tongue to keep the words from spewing.

Kieran looks at me. “What doyouthink?”

I smirk. “I don’t know. Haven’t seen a mirror yet.”

He looks to Sarah, and she responds with a tight-lipped smile before moving to a drape on the wall. When she pulls it back, a floor-to-ceiling mirror accented in an intricate gold design appears. She ties up the drape with a tasseled rope.

“How about now?”

I look in the mirror, and it’s not half bad. Considering my hair is a snarled mess, and my makeup-free face is a shade lighter than I typically like to go out in public, the outfit isn’t half bad.

“It’s fine. Thanks.”

“Fine? The skirt is Chanel,” Sarah states, her tone disbelieving.

I stopped caring about name brands years ago, so I shrug.

She scoffs, then leads me back into the dressing room, and we repeat the same insanity for the next two hours. She dresses me, marches me in front of Kieran, who seems to care what I think, and then I decide yes or no to the excessive outfit.

By the time I’ve secured several dress pants, blouses, skirts, a few pairs of jeans, and three pairs of Jimmy Choos, my stomach is growling at me. Not to mention that expensive bottled water has rushed to my bladder and now I’m in physical pain.

Inside the dressing room, I’m about to put on my old clothes, ready to get out of here, when Kieran’s voice sounds on the other side.

“Sarah. What about this black evening gown ye have here?”

I deflate, then cross my legs. Oh, my god I have to pee.

Sarah pokes her head out of the room, and there’s elation in her voice as she speaks. “Oh, that’s a beauty. We just got that in. It’s Versace with gorgeous draping. The asymmetric strap has that gold tone link you see here, and the slit up the side is stunning. Do you want her to try it on?”

I don’t hear his reply, but I assume it’s a yes when her head and the dress morph back behind the curtain. She holds it up to me, smiling.

The silk washes over my body like water. Braless, the fabric is cool against my chest turning them sensitive. I kick my leg out of the slit, loving the freedom of movement. I haven’t made it to the mirror yet, and I’m already thrumming with anticipation. It feels incredible.

Sarah draws back the curtain, and I freeze, seeing Kieran pacing right outside. That poor Persian rug.

He startles upon seeing me, eyes wide as he takes in my dress. Sarah ushers me to the mirror and my mouth drops open when she steps aside.

Hugging every curve, this dress moves fluidly, almost liquid-like with each of my movements. The black shimmers, catching the light while cascading to the floor and elongating my short figure. The neckline is indeed asymmetrical. The right shoulder has a thicker fabric resembling a capped sleeve, while the left is a thin strap with a gold link resting against my clavicle.

Kieran steps up behind me, so close I can feel the deep exhale of his breath on my exposed back. When I meet his gaze in the mirror, his nostrils flare ever so slightly, and … did it get darker? The normal vibrant color has given way to a moody obsidian green, and I shiver.

“Leave us,” Kieran barks, and Sarah jumps at the command in his voice. She moves toward the back of the store, disappearing through another door.

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