Wicked Dangerous by Julie Kriss

Author:Julie Kriss
Language: eng
Format: epub

Seventeen

Kat

* * *

The party was at a small but expensive gallery in Dallas’s downtown Arts District. The building was a modern cube with narrow windows. The signs over the door announced a new collection by a hot local artist. There were expensive driver-driven BMW’s and Lexuses pulling up to the door, their lights gleaming in the darkness.

My mother and stepfather had gone to a hundred parties like this. Even as a teenager, I’d gone to some myself, as had Tyler. We’d learned early how to dress up and behave in company. By the time I was eighteen I’d owned five cocktail dresses and a dozen pairs of high heels. Even though it was a life that a lot of people longed for, teenaged me had wanted nothing more than to rebel.

And when rebellion had presented itself in the form of Alex Blake, I’d jumped at it. At him.

I’d thought I’d walked away from that life forever, but tonight I found myself looking forward to this party. While Alex had gone into his office during the day, I’d taken his car and hired driver and gone shopping for a dress to wear. I knew a lot of the old biddies and artsy types at this party would be wearing expensive, conservative high couture, so I’d looked for just the right sexy piece.

I’d ended up with a perfect little black dress: the hem just above the knee, the sleeves long to cover the bruises on my arm, and a neckline that plunged into such a deep vee that I couldn’t wear a bra underneath it. I accessorized with understated jewelry, understated makeup, and black Louboutins.

The low cut of the dress was almost trashy, but the designer label and the high price tag meant that no one would complain. I covered it with a black wool coat because the weather was what Texans laughably called “cold.” Anyone from Chicago would be amused.

As for my hair, I left it down, long and dark on my back. If these people didn’t like the sight of a woman who was one-quarter Cherokee, they could die mad about it.

Alex approved of the look. He went still, his eyes dark, when he saw me. He was quiet for a minute, taking me in as we stood in the kitchen, waiting to go downstairs to his driver.

“You look…very nice,” he finally said, his voice low.

I smiled. Alex had never been a master at poetic speaking. “You look very nice yourself.”

And God, did he ever. He was wearing a black suit and tie with a white shirt—almost a tuxedo, but not quite. He should have looked like a waiter or a Mafia boss, but he didn’t look like either of those things. He looked like a gorgeous man in an expensive suit, and what made it even sexier was that I knew the arms inside the sleeves were inked with tattoos. The stuffy people at the art gallery wouldn’t know that, but I would.

I also knew what Alex looked like naked, but if I wanted to keep my cool, I wasn’t going to think about that right now.

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