Page 16 of Dark Succession
Her smile widened, becoming something less politely interested and more real. “On occasion.”
He tried to picture it, and the image came to him all too easily. He’d seen Callie play the part of mob princess at the dinner, even though he knew for a fact she was as displeased about the whole three-ring circus as he was. It wasn’t too far a leap to see her at a table, wearing something like the red number she had on now, smiling sweetly and taking the men around her for everything they had. “I bet they don’t even know what hit them.”
She laughed softly. “Well, I do win more than I lose.”
“We should play sometime.” The words were out before he had a chance to reconsider them. “Though not for anything as mundane as money.”
Her blue eyes lit with interest that had nothing to do with cards. Christ, did she know the effect she had? It was everything he could do not to reach for her, to see if her skin was as soft as he remembered, if her mouth was as yielding.
If he could get her to make another of those sweet whimpers.
He looked away, trying to get control of himself. “Any other untoward habits I should know about in my future wife?” Future wife. Fuck if he didn’t love the sound of that, especially when it meant that four short weeks from now, Callie would behis. It was a savage thought, but he couldn’t shake it. Or deny exactly how much he wanted it. “I love old movies.” That brought his attention back around to her, a moth to her flame. She twisted a lock of her blond hair around her finger. “If it has Marilyn Monroe, Jane Russell, or Audrey Hepburn in it, then I own it and have watched it entirely too many times to admit in public.”
He could see that. There was something about Callie that brought to mind the glamour and grace of actresses from that time period. He took a drink of his whiskey, enjoying the ease of their conversation. It didn’t matter that he’d convinced her to come out tonight in order to stop a war he was beginning to get the feeling there was no way to stop. Hell, he likedher. “I’d like us to be clear on something.”
“Yes?”
“This”—he motioned between them—“is a date.”
She gave him a look like she wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “Okay…”
“Which means that we’re going to eat, and after that, I’m going to walk you to your car.” He leaned forward, crowding her a little. “Then I’m going to kiss you.”
Her eyes went wide. “And if I don’t want you to?”
He didn’t so much as twitch, because she looked like she was torn between bolting and actually liking the idea. He wanted to point out that, reasons for initiating it aside, she’d sure as fuck enjoyed their kiss in the alley. Not to mention the fact that they were getting married in a month, but that wasn’t a threat he was willing to utter. Neither of them had chosen this pairing, no matter how well they seemed to get along right now, and he couldn’t go into this expecting a certain outcome. But he could hope—and he could stack the deck in his favor as much as possible. “Do you?”
“I…” Her mouth opened and then closed, as if reconsidering whatever her knee-jerk reaction had been. “Yes.”
His breath left him in a whoosh. He’d thought she was just as interested as he was, but there was always the risk of miscommunication. No longer. Now he knew exactly where Callie stood. She wanted him, whether she was comfortable with the feeling or not. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles. “In that case, I hope you’re hungry, because here comes our food.”
Callie had no idea what she ate. It could have been the most magnificent meal ever put in front of her orsomething served out the back of a truck, and she never would have known. Not when all she could focus on was Teague. He didn’t touch her again, but she was painfully aware of every move he made. How hadn’t she noticed his hands last night? They were wide and strong, and there was a scattering of tattoos across his knuckles. She’d seen them before, of course, but most of the men she knew had tattoos of one sort or another, so it hadn’t really registered until now.
God, she wanted his hands on her.
The strength of the desire was enough to have her feeling skittish and uncertain, to the point that if he’d pushed any harder, she would have made some excuse and gotten out of there. It was a distraction, and not one she could afford. She hadn’t forgotten the fact that he wanted to know who caused the bruises on her neck—it was only a matter of time before he asked about it again. She didn’t know him nearly well enough to put her life and the safety of everyone under Sheridan protection in his hands.
Which meant she had to start finding out more information—the sooner, the better. “What are your thoughts on human trafficking?”
Teague raised his brows. “You leave something to be desired when it comes to light dinner conversation.”
“Would you rather I ask for your favorite color?”
“It’s gray.” He speared a piece of his salmon. “And I think human trafficking is one of the most despicable things people do to each other. I was under the impression that the Sheridans shared the sentiment.”
They did, but that didn’t mean she could take anything for granted. “We do.”
“Thought so.” He watched her for a long moment. “Any deep, dark secrets that I should know about before I slip the ring onto your finger?”
It took everything she had not to choke on her steak. Callie chewed mechanically, staring at her plate. He didn’t know. He was just teasing. She hoped. She swallowed. “Of course not. All my secrets are right out in the open.”
Teague snorted. “I doubt that.”
Because he wasn’t stupid. Even normal people had secrets that they kept close to their chest and never shared, even with the ones they loved most. For someone in their lifestyle, it was a given. She sipped her wine. “And you? Do you have skeletons in your closet that will pop up at the first available opportunity?”
“Not a single one.”
He was lying the same way she was, but she couldn’t call him on it without giving him the opportunity of doing the same. She hadn’t really thought it would be that easy, had she? She gave a reluctant smile. “Then it seems we’re more fortunate than most engaged couples.”
