Page 111 of Fifth Avenue Fling

***

As I clack my way up the stairs from my studio in my high heels, I hear voices, and the dread bubbling in my stomach since I left Sam rises to the surface. Fifteen minutes was all I had to get ready for dinner since I’d let the caterers in.

Taking a deep breath, I walk into the lounge.

Killian leans against the fireplace in a dark-blue suit with one hand tucked into his trousers and the other against the fireplace. Underneath, he’s wearing a vest.

His presence puts my already tense nerves on edge further.

In an instant, I forget all of my social skills and just gape at him. Killian Quinn in running gear is sexy as fuck. Killian Quinn in a three-piece suit is downright showstopping.

I’m equally depressed and flustered.

I don’t miss the double take he gives me. Bingo. Except I can’t figure out whether he’s angry or horny. Maybe the two are interchangeable.

I snap out of my lust daze and regard him coolly.

Connor sits in the armchair with a glam six-foot Amazonian model casually perched on his armrest.

Maria isn’t here.

Maybe she’s not coming.

“Clodagh.” Connor stands up to greet me, giving me an appreciative once-over. “You look stunning. Are you joining us for dinner?”

My cheeks burn.I’ve overdone it. “No, I’m serving the drinks.”

Connor winks. “Looks like everyone will be getting frequent top-ups then.”

A nervous giggle escapes me, soundingunusuallyhigh-pitchedduetothebodycon underwear crushing my organs. I should have learned my lesson at the restaurant, but beauty is pain.

“There was no need for you to dress up.”

I turn in the direction of the low husky drawl that induces the pesky flutters and glare at him. “You told me to look presentable. Do I not look presentable enough for you?”

His blue eyes blaze with heat. “I told you to dress accordingly.”

I consider whether to kick him in the nuts or run down the stairs crying.

Connor looks at Killian with a frown.

Killian’s eyes slowly travel up my body, starting from my toes and finishing at my head. “Yes, Clodagh,” he says slowly. “You look presentable. You look… very nice.”

I’m flattered. “Charmer of the century,” I mutter under my breath.

I saunter past him in my green Chanel dress. Okay, I may have gone overboard. In fact, the effort I put in just to serve drinks is downright outrageous. I look like I’m auditioning for a starlight role in a Hollywood blockbuster, if I say so myself. I even removed my nose ring to lookladylikefor the old mayor frump.

“I’ll be in the kitchen with the caterers,” I say haughtily, not bothering to glance back at him.

I don’t need to, to know his eyes are burning into the back of me. I canfeelit.

One point for me, zero points for Killian.

***

The doorbell rings. That’s my cue. I make my way to the entrance hall.

The hallway fills with perfume and cologne as they stream in together. Killian is at the door greeting them.

---