Mia clutched Shane’s arm as they entered the Morrissey Performance Hall, home of City Ballet. The place was crowded with people in their finery, and she was glad she had opted for the sexy red dress with its split high up her left thigh instead of a more demure black dress she’d considered. It had hidden the burn on her shoulder but would have been bland amid this throng.
Shane had gone with classic black, wearing a perfectly tailored pair of black slacks and jacket, with a cashmere turtleneck underneath. Her fingers itched to touch the soft material. Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted to touch the skin underneath, not the black turtleneck.
It was crazy how much she wanted him. Even now, surrounded by all these people, her panties grew damp and her nipples hardened when she imagined his hands on her. How could she be so addicted to him under the circumstances? Was she really so easy to sway that all it took was some excellent bedroom technique and a few orgasms to gain her compliance?
She had a feeling it was as simple and as complicated as that when it came to Shane. He was an elemental force that drew her, even when he repulsed her. She wanted him even when she hated him—and she hadn’t hated him for several days.
How did she feel? Mia didn’t want to examine that, and it was a relief to have her attention diverted by the arrival of a blond man just a bit shorter than Shane. He was maybe five years older but looked rougher. His face wasn’t as smooth or perfectly balanced as her lover’s. He was interesting rather than classically handsome with his too-full lower lip, crooked nose, and light-blue eyes that rested on her and didn’t seem to miss anything. “You must be Mia.”
She took the hand he extended automatically. His hand was large and calloused, folding over her fingers easily, though she didn’t feel trapped by his light touch. “Yes.” Tilting her head, examining the way the two men stood near each other, their posture suggesting both were at-ease, she guessed, “Cormac?”
He grinned, and it changed his face from rough to compelling. “The very same. I’m sure my reputation precedes me, but don’t listen to him.”
She smiled. “He said you were a good friend who helped him out more than once.”
“Oh, well, in that case, every word he spoke was the truth.” Before Shane could protest, he took her hand from his arm and tucked it under his instead. “Let me escort you to your seat.”
“Oh, but I don’t know where—”
Shane fell into step behind them. “We share a box, babe.”
“You like the ballet that much?” It didn’t seem like a plausible interest for a rough Irish mobster. Shane’s regular attendance made sense, with his sister being a ballerina in this company, but wouldn’t a guy like Cormac be more at home in a sports bar?
Cormac gave her an enigmatic smile. “I haven’t missed a performance in two years.”
As they climbed the stairs to the box, he chatted amicably, and she answered. Cormac was a smooth talker and charming. She briefly wondered if the mafia trained guys how to behave, or if these two just happened to be charmers who ended up in organized crime.
A few minutes after they were seated, the lights went down, and the show began. Mia watched it, enchanted as always. Each time she glanced at Shane, she caught him watching her instead of the performance. It should have been discomfiting or creepy, but something in his gaze made the blood rush in her veins and slicked the flesh between her thighs.
If Cormac hadn’t been in the seat beside her, she would have slid onto Shane’s lap and let his hand slip under the slit in her dress to see just how wet she was for him. Unfortunately, they weren’t alone, though their companion’s eyes were always centered on the stage whenever she glanced at him.
As the show progressed, Mia realized Cormac’s attention specifically centered on one performer in the show. She had a minor role and also seemed to appear in the chorus during a couple of dances, but when she was on stage, she held Cormac’s attention.
At intermission, the dancers mingled with the crowd, and she had a chance to meet the one who seemed to hold the attention of Shane’s friend. She glided toward them with either natural grace or the byproduct of years of training. A few inches taller than Mia, she was about her age, with long, dark hair and a familiar shade of green eyes.
She wasn’t surprised to hear the ballerina’s name was Siobhan, Shane’s sister. Glancing out the corner of her eye, she saw Cormac light up and didn’t miss the way the girl blushed slightly when he took her hand in a gentle squeeze that lasted only a second.
“How are you enjoying the show?” Siobhan asked.
“It’s beautiful,” Mia said, able to answer honestly.
“How are you?” Shane asked, his tone one she had never heard before. “Are your injections helping?”
The woman sighed. “Yes, Shane, I’m fine. I have pain while dancing, but I always have a little pain.” Meeting Mia’s gaze, she gave her a conspiratorial smile. “Some things are worth the pain, right?”
Mia nodded, rendered speechless by the simple words. It had been a throwaway comment, but it resonated with her. She was on a dangerous path, well on her way to embracing the pain to receive the pleasure.
Blinking, she pushed those alarming thoughts away as the house lights flickered, and Siobhan made her way backstage after suggesting dinner with them and Cormac following the show.
“We don’t have to,” Shane said.
Her thoughts had distracted her. “Have to what?”
“Dinner with Siobhan and Cormac. We have a reservation for two at Silk.”
Her eyes widened at the name of the exclusive restaurant. No doubt her father had dined there many times, but she refused to use the Kasilli name to obtain favors. Without the Kasilli money she had also eschewed, she’d never had an opportunity to eat there. It was supposed to be delicious, expensive, and romantic. The last thing she needed was another experience to seduce her senses.
Smiling, she waved a hand. “We can do that some other night. I’d love to have a chance to get better acquainted with your sister and your friend.” Ignoring his visible disappointment before his expression closed, she slipped into her seat, focused her gaze on the stage, and didn’t see another bit of the show as her mind churned with thoughts. Asking herself if she was really feeling those things for him or if Shane was just manipulating her left her no closer to an answer by the time the performance concluded.
