Page 29 of Dublin Charmer
But the way she’s staring at me…
Does she recognize me? I know who she is, but how could she know who I am? Quinns don’t come over the river, so they would never expect me to be here for a night of drinking with Billy-fucking-Gravely. Even if she’s working for Gravely and has studied me and my family, she wouldn’t recognize me behind this mask.
Gravely interrupts the moment, and the spell is broken.
The loss is instant, and I want to storm over there in a rage and crack the fucker’s head against the rail of the craps table. Billy whispers something into Nyx’s ear, and she leans forward to blow on Gravely’s dice.
Even from this distance, I can read the calculation in her posture. She’s playing him, and he’s falling for it like the lecherous fool he is.
By the time she straightens, I’ve already slipped away into the crowd.
“Target confirmed,” I murmur into my concealed mic. “She’s currently with Gravely at the craps table.”
Kieran’s voice crackles in my ear. “We’re outside if you need us.”
I’m thankful for that, because even though I consider myself as capable as any of my brothers, I’m a Quinn on the south side of the Liffey at a time when Gravely is declaring war on not only my family but the McGuires as well.
I would be an idiot not to have backup.
And Da didn’t raise an idiot.
I position myself at the blackjack table, close to the bar. I’ve got a good line of sight to the gaming tables and Gravely drinks like a fish at these events. It’s only a matter of time before he, or maybe they, come over for a refill.
It takes twenty minutes, but I’m a patient man.
Nyx nods in response to something Gravely says, then turns toward the bar. Her walk is confident but cautious. She moves through the gamblers and the gawkers like someone who’s aware of their surroundings.
I nod to a server I paid earlier. He steps directly into her path, pretending to be distracted by balancing his tray of champagne flutes.
The collision is perfect—not enough to spill the drinks, but enough to knock her off balance. She stumbles backward, directly toward me.
She falls into my lap exactly as planned, but her hand reaches back to steady herself. Her fingers inadvertently grasp my cockand, in her panic, tighten as if my dick can somehow save her from crashing.
My cock responds immediately, and I can’t help the throaty groan that works its way up the back of my throat.
Her body is warm and surprisingly athletic beneath the glittery sheath of her dress. She gasps, an apology spilling out of her even as she turns to face me, grinding over my lap. “Ay, dios!I’m so sorry. My foot caught—Oh. It’s you.”
“Aye, it’s me.”
Up close, she’s even more beautiful. Those bright blue eyes practically dance behind her mask. I lower my head slowly so as not to startle her more and brush my lips against the shell of her ear. Breathing her in is a mistake and I realize it as soon as her sinful scent hits.
Heat pumps hard in my veins.
Fucking hell.I swallow and try to remember how to speak. “And while I’m not complaining—because I’m absolutely not—I don’t think this is the kind of party where you can ride a man’s cock in full view of the bar queue.”
She closes her eyes and tries to right herself to get up.
Despite the electricity coursing through my body, and my instinct to keep her exactly where she is, I help her to her feet and stand beside her. “Though I admit it was quite a way to introduce yourself.”
A flush creeps up her neck. “It was an accident.”
“You know what they say. There are no accidents.”
“All right. Unintentional, then.”
“I’ll give you memorable.”
She laughs, and the sound is genuine—I think.
