Page 83 of Sweet Revenge
“Why? You didn’t kill him.”
Evie turned to look up at him. “You know you can hurt people without killing them, right?”
“Can you? Killing them is more efficient.”
She shook her head. “You probably shouldn’t enjoy it so much.”
He shrugged, but she caught a flash of a smile. “Probably. Have I told you how stunning you look today?” He nodded in appreciation at the pale pink dress that hugged her curves from breast to thigh before falling away in sheer billowy layers.
“Let me think…several times while you were trying to talk me back out of this dress earlier.”
He grinned. “And I’m going to thoroughly enjoy taking that off you later.”
“Hmm, that’s funny. I was thinking exactly the same thing about your tux.”
His blue eyes darkened, and he took a step closer so their bodies were nearly touching, making her breath catch in the back of her throat. “We could go now, skip the reception.”
The invitation made her mouth water. “No, we can’t.”
He sighed. “Fine. A coat closet then.”
“I’ll be on the lookout,” she replied, laughing. “Are you done with pictures already?”
“They cut me loose early. We could make out in the limo for a while.”
She gave his chest a light shove. “You just want to get me out of this dress.”
“Good. I was afraid I was being too subtle.”
She did let his hands wander a little too far in the limo on the drive over to the reception but kept her dress firmly on, much to their mutual disappointment. She fixed the lipstick he’d smudged while the driver got out to open her door.
The 1920s era mansion Maura insisted on for the reception was stunning. Evie imagined it would be even more beautiful lit up at night. Maura hadn’t done the place justice when she’d described it. Each room was carefully decorated with painstaking attention to even the smallest detail.
She accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and wandered from one of the parlors into the library, moving to study the intricately carved marble fireplace that sat at the back of the room. She ran her fingertip over the relief of angels and cherubs, marveling at the craftsmanship. It had to be an original piece.
“See any coat closets?” Declan whispered loudly as he joined her, sipping a glass of whiskey.
She rose from her inspection of the mantel. “I think I saw a billiards room back that way, but no, no coat closets.”
He glanced in the direction she was pointing. “I could make a billiards room work.”
Laughing, she tilted her head when he leaned in to press a kiss to the side of her neck. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”
“Well,” he said when the library began to fill with other guests, “that wasn’t a no.”
Shaking her head, she scanned the room while people engaged him in conversation. She could see it, the visible shift in the man he was with her and the man he was with everyone else. He cared, no doubt about it, but he knew the power he carried and the respect he commanded and wielded them both expertly.
Reagan caught her eye from across the room and weaved between guests to reach them.
“I heard about what happened this morning.”
“Seems word’s been getting around,” Evie replied. “Nessa asked me about it too.”
“Need anything from me?” Reagan asked Declan.
“No, McGee’s already been through, and we know what happened.” He wrapped an arm around Evie’s waist. “We were there.”
Reagan nodded, studying them. “This looks nice. People are talking about this too.” She wiggled her fingers at them. “Seems the consensus is about damn time. So I hope you’re back for good, Evie.”
