Chapter Four
Daisy watched Alex and Gray take their first dance as husband and wife to the tune of Jim Croce’s “Time in a Bottle.”
The wedding ceremony had been beautiful and perfect. For her, the most poignant part was when she glimpsed the all-consuming love and adoration in the groom’s eyes. The moment had her tearing up. Luckily, that had helped to take her mind off Dom and what had nearly happened in the dressing room.
When he’d pulled her onto his lap, she could feel his touch shoot straight to her core, and for a fraction of a second, she’d wanted to cling to him and feel his lips on hers. If only the man’s kisses hadn’t been as darned memorable as the rest of him.
Hot and wet as he’d licked greedily into her mouth, his lips moving over hers with just the right amount of pressure. Tender one moment, possessive and demanding the next, with an erotic, feral urgency. To this day, she still recalled how his deep, rumbly voice telling her how sexy she was and how good she tasted had sent shivers of delight to her belly.
Stupid thoughts, but there they were, clear as day in her equally stupid brain. Throughout the ceremony she’d felt his eyes on her, and she was proud of herself for not staring back.
She was particularly proud of herself as he’d escorted her back up the aisle at the end of the ceremony. She’d been forced to link arms with him, to feel all that sinewy muscle beneath her fingers and inhale his delicious aftershave. Her body had vibrated with annoyance and something else she couldn’t put her finger on. Whatever it was, it made her feel alive in a way she didn’t want to feel.
They’d managed to get through the wedding party photos without spilling any blood. Which was good, damn good. Dom was on his best behavior during the photo shoot, but he seemed on edge. He’d repeatedly clenched his jaw, and when he put his arm around her for the maid of honor–best man shot, she could feel his body strung tighter than a rubber band.
Now, seated in the reception hall, Daisy’s eyes glistened as she witnessed the joy and love in Alex and Gray’s first dance. Alex deserved every happiness, and Daisy’s heart swelled with joy for her friend at the same time her throat tightened with sadness. Would she ever find that kind of love?
As the dance came to an end, everyone clapped heartily, then the emcee called for the rest of the bridal party to join in. Daisy’s heart raced, wishing she could bow out of the traditional dance, but she didn’t want to make a scene. From the obvious reluctance on Dom’s face as he walked toward her, she gathered he was thinking the same thing.
Before she could evade his embrace, he clasped one of her hands and she had no choice but to put her other hand on his shoulder to keep from falling on her ass again. When he gazed down at her and his lips twisted into a cocky grin that irritated the hell out of her, she stomped her heel on his foot and was rewarded with a muted curse.
“Daisy.” He gritted his teeth. “I’m warning you. Be a good girl.”
“I am a good girl.” She smiled up at him sweetly, delighting in the way he was grimacing. Nothing like a three-inch heel to put a guy in his place. “I just don’t want you to harbor any misguided notions that I might actually enjoy dancing with you.”
“The thought never crossed my mind.” He glared down at her for a moment, then as the band began playing Elvis’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” he swung her onto the dance floor.
Even with a slight limp he was an unexpectedly smooth dancer. A pang of guilt made her regret stomping on his foot. Not only was it childish but she shouldn’t have done anything to hurt him more than he already was. “Are you ever going to tell me why you’re limping?”
“No,” he said flatly. “But I’m touched that you care.”
“I don’t.” Vaguely, she realized she did. “I’m merely curious.”
“Relax, Ms. Fowler.” He nuzzled her cheek with his chin. “Try pulling in your claws long enough to enjoy the dance.”
She let out an exasperated breath. “Fine.”
“Good girl.” Dom chuckled in her ear, eliciting unwanted shivers down her neck and back.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she vowed not to let him get to her. If only this song didn’t seem as if it went on forever.
If only I didn’t feel every inch of the man’s long, muscular legs against mine, or his chest against my breasts.
She tried pulling away from him, desperate to put space between their bodies, but he only held her tighter.
“The flowers are beautiful.” His blue eyes bored down into hers.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Detective.” She was determined not to be affected by the man.
And failing at it miserably.
“Then what will?” Again he grinned, the way she imagined any gorgeous blond, blue-eyed sun god grins at unsuspecting young women just before plundering their virginity.
“Nothing,” she ground out.
“Then stop rubbing against me. Me being such a womanizing asshole, that just pushes all my buttons.”
She tried yanking her hand from his, burning with the need to slap him, and she didn’t care who saw it. “You ba—”
“Oh, Dominick.” Alex’s assistant waved her fingers in their direction, batting her eyelashes.
Dom flashed Emily his trademark toothy smile, then twirled Daisy well out of range, ignoring the other woman’s obvious invitation.
Odd. The way Emily was behaving, Dom had to know she was a sure thing. So why isn’t he going after her?
Alex’s twenty-something assistant had been eyeing Dom all during the photo shoot, flirting with him outrageously, and she didn’t know why it bothered her. It shouldn’t. So why did it?
“Now where were we?” He slid his arm lower on her back, resting it on her bare skin just above her ass. “Oh yeah, you were about to label me a bastard, which I am most definitely not. I’ll have you know my mother and father love each other very much, and I look like both of them. No milkman action in our happy household.”
Daisy rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the goose bumps erupting everywhere his fingers touched. “I’m not talking about paternal bastardry. There is another form of bastard, which you most definitely are.”
He tugged her impossibly closer. “I beg to differ.”
“Why don’t you take Emily up on her offer?” She tipped her head to where Emily stood on the edge of the dance floor, still trying to catch Dom’s attention. “Why waste time with someone you’ve already used and discarded?”
Instead of the quick, flirtatious retort she expected, he frowned and his eyebrows bunched. “I didn’t use you. I—” He stared down at her, his eyes dark and troubled. “It was never my intention to hurt you.”
“Well you—” Did. She glanced away from his intense stare, unwilling to admit just how much he had hurt her. “Forget it. I have.”
His lips quirked. “My foot says otherwise.”
“Then we’re even.” Not by a long shot. But in a way, she kinda felt sorry for him. Any guy who jumped from one bed to the next was destined to be alone. She hated being alone and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Not even Dom. “Let’s consider this dance the last chapter of our brief encounter, and I’ll leave you with these parting words of female wisdom.”
He raised his brows and smiled. “I’m all ears.”
“You might actually try getting to know a woman before having sex with her. Unfathomable as it may seem, if you stick around, one day you might actually fall in love.” Just not with her. Although, hadn’t she and Dom gotten to know each other pretty well during the long hours they’d talked before falling into bed?
Dom’s brows drew together, and he clenched his jaw. Gone was the happy-go-lucky expression that had been there only a moment earlier. His eyes darkened again, but something about the way he was looking at her told Daisy he wasn’t really seeing her. He was somewhere else. Somewhere far away. She’d seen that look on his face before.
“Love hurts too much,” he whispered.
His voice was low, and with the music pumping all around them she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “What did you say?”
For a long moment, he didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her. “Nothing,” he said. Then it was as if he flipped a switch, and he grinned down at her once again. “But where were we? Oh, yeah. I’m a bastard. Probably always will be.”
“I give up.” She shook her head, thinking she must have misheard him.
As he spun her around, she caught sight of three men she recognized as other detectives in Dom and Gray’s squad. Their eyes followed her and Dom around the floor, and every now and then, their heads came together as they whispered something, nodding conspiratorially.
“Why are your colleagues staring at us?”
He spun her around so that he could see whom she was referring to.
“They look pissed.”
“They’re not staring at you.” The muscles in his face and neck tensed. “They’re staring at me. And they are pissed.”
“Why?”
“They think I did something,” he said but didn’t elaborate.
She tried to meet his gaze, but he was intensely focused on the other men. “What do they think you did?”
His eyes suddenly shuttered. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
The song ended, and to Daisy’s astonishment, he lifted her hand to his lips and then left her standing there in the middle of the dance floor. She watched him make a beeline to where Gray and another cop she knew was their boss had their heads together.
Baffled, she shook her head at his mercurial transformation. One minute they were getting along reasonably and the next he couldn’t seem to get rid of her fast enough.
What. Ever.
Across the room, Alex stood with Cassie and Moira, watching her. Alex held two glasses of champagne, raising one in the air to indicate she should join them.
“Having fun?” Cassie asked when she was within earshot.
“I’m not sure I’d call it fun.” Eagerly, she accepted the champagne flute Alex handed her, then took a hearty slug. She shut her eyes for a moment, willing the bubbly liquid to hit her bloodstream in record time and ease the edginess she’d been feeling since the moment Dom had swung her onto the dance floor. “In fact, I don’t know what the hell that was.”
Moira, Cassie’s sister-in-law, smiled. “You two look like you were born to dance together.”
“And then some.” The corners of Cassie’s mouth lifted in a far-too-knowing smile.
Daisy felt a bit self-conscious around the beautiful redhead who used to be Dom’s partner. It was as if the woman knew everything that was ticking away in Daisy’s head.
“He’s not a bad guy,” Cassie added, inclining her head to where Dom was in deep conversation with Gray and their boss.
“Just be careful.” Alex squeezed Daisy’s arm. “Okay?”
“You don’t have to remind me,” she replied just before downing the remainder of the champagne in her glass. “I think I’ll need a bottle to get through the rest of the day.”
“Daisy,” someone said from behind her. “You look incredibly lovely.”
It was Andrew Foust, Alex and Gray’s neighbor and the general manager of the famed Piazza Hotel near Central Park. The Piazza had been shut down for renovations that were just about completed, and Daisy was now the hotel’s weekly supplier of floral arrangements, along with special potted palm trees for the new lobby, ballroom, and atrium.
Andrew gave her a mock bow. “May I have this dance?”
She smiled, delighted to have someone take her mind off Dom. Besides, Andrew was single, good-looking, and they got along quite well. “I’d love to.” She placed her hand in his and was immediately swung into the lively beat of Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody.” Within minutes, Dom was a distant memory.
If only he’d quit scowling at her every time she and Andrew swept past him.
…
Dom ground his teeth for the tenth time in five minutes.
If that little weasel doesn’t get his overly manicured fingers off Daisy’s back, I’ll arrest him and haul his ass to jail.
Why he felt so irritated by such a wimp, he had no fucking clue. He put the glass of scotch to his mouth, then realized it was empty. He was wound so tight he’d downed three fingers in one shot and didn’t remember doing it.
“Dom,” Gray shouted over the pounding music.
“What?” He turned to see his partner sporting an amused look in his silver-gray eyes. “You don’t have to jump down my throat, for Chrissake.”
Lt. Frye snorted. “Yeah, he does. You haven’t heard a word we’ve been saying.”
“Fuck,” Dom muttered. He needed to get his head out of his ass and stop staring at Daisy. And he sure as hell had to quit wanting to kick the shit out of any of the dozen or so men he’d caught ogling her.
“I was saying,” Gray continued in a hushed tone, “that I want to back you up Tuesday night when you meet with Schneider. Lieutenant Frye agrees. It’s too dangerous for you to go it alone. You at least need someone waiting outside.”
“And how do you propose to back me up when you’ll be on your honeymoon?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Gray got in Dom’s face. “This isn’t funny so don’t fuck with me. I’ve already talked to Alex, and we’re postponing our trip to Hawaii.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head. “Not a good way to earn brownie points with the new wife.”
Gray glanced to where Alex stood with her friends, and Dom was hit with a wave of envy at what his partner and his new wife had. Theirs was a strong bond of love, friendship, loyalty, and respect. He couldn’t stop himself from searching the floor for Daisy and her wimp-ass dance partner.
“I told her it was important, and she understood,” Gray went on. “So like it or not, I’ll be around the corner in a parked van. If you don’t come out within thirty minutes after going in, I’ll break down the door and haul your ass outta there.”
“No, you won’t.” He jammed his hand into his pocket and leaned closer to Gray. “Because not only will you be on your honeymoon as planned, but I don’t want you to get picked off by the Pyramid’s counter-surveillance. If they so much as detect anyone tracking me, they’ll put a bullet in your brain first, then mine, before either of us can say oh shit. Then Alex will be even more pissed at me. The only surveillance I want is on Schneider, and then only by A-list teams.” The NYPD had some of the most experienced surveillance cops in the world. Surveillance was all they did, and they were the best.
Two other detectives from the squad sauntered up. Teddy Pulaski and Artie Griffin had both been giving him the stink-eye while he’d been dancing with Daisy.
“Lieutenant. Gray,” Teddy said with a nod, then sneered as he looked at Dom. “We’d both like to request a transfer.”
“Denied.” Lt. Frye’s tone was sharp. “Now get the hell out of here and go have fun. This is a wedding, not the office.”
“But, Lieutenant—”
“No buts,” Lt. Frye snapped. “Go freshen your drinks and quit being crybabies.”
“Careful out there,” Artie said to Gray before both men walked off. “It’s hard for someone to watch your back when they’re drunk.” The men cast Dom another derisive look before making their way to the bar.
He caught the pissed look on Gray’s face and knew his partner was about to say something he’d regret. He grabbed his partner’s arm and subtly shook his head. “Not worth it, buddy. And I so feel what they’re about.” He felt the tension in Gray’s arm ease and was relieved when Gray let it go.
Shit. Dom exhaled harshly through his nostrils. He’d known this would be part of the gig, but having guys he’d worked with for ten years think he was a stinking drunk and a total fuckup was harder to stomach than he realized. Again he wondered why Daisy hadn’t believed he was drinking on the job, while men he had known for years did.
Lt. Frye jiggled the ice cubes in his empty glass. To Dom he said, “Partner up with Gray Tuesday night. And you,” he said, turning to Gray, “don’t get made. You boys figure out how to play nice while I go top off.”
“Yes, sir,” they answered in unison.
Gray’s gaze narrowed as he cast a look toward Teddy and Artie at the bar. “I was about to start a fist fight at my own wedding. Alex would have killed me. And for the record, she isn’t pissed at what you did to Daisy. Disappointed, maybe.”
He groaned inwardly. In the last year, he’d developed a hearty respect for Alex, and what she thought of him mattered. Almost as much as what Daisy thought of him, he realized.
His eyes landed on Daisy’s perfectly round backside as she was pulled into a tight embrace by the jerk she was dancing with.
“I don’t agree with you about keeping your distance from Daisy,” Gray said. “But I understand it.”
“Good.” He nodded absently, his eyes still glued to Daisy. With every passing second watching that guy skim his hands up and down her back, his muscles ratcheted tighter.
“She’s a beautiful woman,” Gray went on.
“I know that.” He gritted his teeth. “I don’t need you to remind me.”
“Just saying, any guy with half a brain can see that,” he added, then pointed to the dance floor where Daisy smiled up at her dance partner. “That guy definitely sees it.”
“Fuck. Me.” He shoved his empty glass into Gray’s hand and lit out for the dance floor, limping. Gray’s snort of laughter followed him.
When he caught up with Daisy, he tapped the guy on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” Not that he gave a shit if wimp-ass did mind, but he had to give his competition the chance to bow out gracefully.
Competition?
Fuck, no. I am not making a play for her.
This guy was all wrong for Daisy, and if she couldn’t see that, he’d be the one to educate her. She deserved better.
At first the guy looked surprised, his eyebrows rising practically to his hairline. Then the look of annoyance on his face was priceless as he pursed his thin lips and took Dom in, and at about five foot ten he had to look up to do it.
Daisy crossed her arms, glaring at him. The motion pushed her breasts up, making them mound delectably above the pink cups of her dress. And Dom nearly choked. Her breasts were beautiful. He knew that firsthand.
He shook his head to clear it of the vivid memory, then grinned, turning his attention to her face. He could practically feel her irritation spearing him like tiny hot pokers jabbing at his flesh. “Well, sweetheart? You promised me another dance.”
“I most certainly did not.” She uncrossed her arms and fisted her hands at her sides.
God, he really did love her spunk.
“Andrew?” She lifted her arms, clearly intending to link them around Andrew’s neck.
Dom slipped between them, put his hands at Daisy’s waist, and whisked her away. As he spun her around, he caught sight of Andrew’s bewildered look and grinned.
“That was incredibly rude,” she said as the band began playing “Hungry Eyes.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Not that he gave a shit. He smiled broadly as he caught sight of Andrew stalking off the dance floor. Outside of the job, he didn’t normally use his size to intimidate someone, but seeing that guy touching Daisy’s bare skin made his brain do the Jekyll and Hyde thing and turn downright devious. “I thought your snobby date was about to cry.”
“He’s not a snob, and he’s not my date.” The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. “Although he did kinda look like he was about to lose it.”
“Can’t say I blame him,” Dom admitted. “If you were my date and anyone stole you from me, I’d probably lose it, too.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.
“That would never happen.” She gave him a frosty look, and he glimpsed flecks of gold in her eyes that he’d forgotten about. “Because I’m not yours and never will be.”
True. But hearing her voice the words had his body tightening with something like…disappointment. Because she had been his. Once. For one beautiful night his hands had slid a slow, sensual path up her rib cage to her breasts and nipples, down her belly and lower. He’d spread her thighs, using his thumbs to part her slick folds. Then he’d lowered his head to her and tasted heaven.
The torturous back and forth, bump and grind of the song’s sensual rhythm had Daisy’s hips in constant contact with his semi-erection, and it was driving him up the fucking wall. If the song didn’t change soon he’d be sporting a tree trunk between his legs.
Speaking of woodies…
“Who is the stiff?” Dom jerked his head to where Andrew sat at a table, eyeing him with undisguised annoyance.
“Andrew Foust. He’s the general manager of the Piazza Hotel.” She lifted her chin, as if she was actually proud of the guy. “He awarded me the floral contract for the hotel when it reopens.”
“Ah, I see.” Dom nodded. Everyone in New York City knew about the Piazza renovation project. “And now he expects something in return.” What that something obviously was brought with it a bout of jealousy he had no right feeling.
“He’s not like that.” She pushed at his shoulders, trying to put more distance between them, but he wouldn’t let her.
“Is he gay?” He raised his brows.
“No, he’s not gay.” She sent him a sharp look. “He’s a fascinating man whom I like very much. He’s intelligent, well-read, and a witty conversationalist. And he’s very progressive. He’s an environmentalist and is trying to make the hotel as green as possible. He even owns an electric car so that he leaves as small a carbon footprint on the earth as possible.”
“Carbon footprint, huh?” He caught Andrew following their every step and intentionally led Daisy closer so he could stare back at the guy. As their gazes met over her shoulder, he said half under his breath, “How ’bout I ram my carbon footprint up his ass?”
To his surprise, Daisy giggled. The sound was like sunshine to his ears, and he found himself laughing with her.
The music stopped and the emcee announced dinner was about to be served. Guests started returning to their seats. They remained in the middle of the dance floor, her arms still linked around his neck. Their bodies pressed together intimately.
When he looked down into her eyes, she literally stole his breath. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t breathe. He just stared, taking in every nuance of her face. He loved the way the flecks in her eyes sparkled like gold diamonds. Knowing he shouldn’t, he reached out to slide one of the soft, silky, chestnut brown tendrils between his fingers. She shivered as his thumb grazed her cheek. Awareness flickered in her gaze, and she swallowed.
As if a spell had broken, she unlinked her arms from his neck and stepped back. What he glimpsed in her eyes now was confusion. “You’ll have to excuse me. I have maid of honor duties to attend to.” Then she was gone.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, his mind and heart battling a war of wills. He wanted to go after her but shouldn’t. For so many reasons. First and foremost he needed to be at the top of his game for this op. Any distraction could spell disaster. Like thoughts of that one memorable night spent in her bed.
Dancing with Daisy had been a momentary lapse in judgment, but this was the only time he could allow it to happen. There was no future for them. Not together, anyway. Fatalistic he wasn’t, but there was at least a fifty-fifty chance that in the coming months, his family would be burying him in the little cemetery near his hometown in the Catskills.
Nothing was a certainty in life. He’d learned that firsthand, and right at this moment he felt it more than ever before. Because he’d made a commitment.
In three days, he had an interview with an assassin.