Chapter 23 Duke
Duke
When we enter the restaurant, heads turn and the volume of chatter lowers a notch. Our fellow diners cast anxious looks at the man in front of me. Danyl’s face is still a mess after our clash last weekend.
Katarina also attracts her fair share of attention, just not from me.
As the ma?tre de guides us to our table, I’m only interested in seeking out the woman who makes my heart race for all the right reasons.
Grace and I have had a week to get used to our new arrangement, but this is the first time we’ve had to share our time with others outside the office.
Work on Corbyn House and my fiancée’s damn birthday party have not been progressing as fast as they could. We’ve either been fucking like a pair of insatiable honeymooners, or Grace has been sitting on my lap. I meant it literally when I told her I wasn’t going to let her go again. And yet…
Weekends present a challenge, and seeing her without being able to touch her tonight will be a special kind of hell. I don’t need the ma?tre de to gesture to our table, I’ve been drawn like a moth to my angel’s flame.
Grace pulls her attention from my pain-in-the-ass PA seated opposite her, and when our eyes meet, she looks mildly bored. I nod stiffly in response. It’s all an act in front of Danyl. Damn, we’re good.
Ed, on the other hand, can’t be trusted to hide his feelings, which is why I’ve never told him about Fitz, nor is he aware of why Katarina and I have reached an understanding, other than it might have involved me rearranging Danyl’s face.
He scowls at my fiancée, beams a smile at me, then winks at Danyl. “Hello, handsome.”
I swear I hear Danyl growl.
Grace rises from her seat and I busy myself undoing the buttons on my jacket so I don’t drag my gaze over her body.
My temptress is wearing the same green dress she wore the first time we met.
Seeing her in it had taken my breath away back then, but now…
Now I have a complete out-of-body experience as I conjure an unrestrained version of me bending her over the table and not caring who’s watching.
“It’s so lovely to see you again, Katarina,” Grace says with another performance deserving of an Oscar.
“And you too, darling,” Katarina exclaims in such a way that I immediately look up to see the two hugging.
I’ve seen Katarina’s stiff greetings enough times to know that the warmth of this embrace is something new.
And from the way Grace squeezes Katarina’s shoulders, I’m starting to think I’ve read their greeting wrong.
They might actually like each other. In fairness, Grace has been more sympathetic to Katarina’s situation since they spoke, but I wasn’t expecting the ice maiden to have softened too.
Grace invites Katarina to sit next to her, leaving me with the one diagonally opposite. It’s the safest option and one we planned in advance, but before I sit, I turn to Danyl who’s taken up position next to the table, hands clasped in front of him. I don’t think so.
“You can go now,” I tell him.
He keeps his gaze trained on our surroundings. “No.”
I adjust my suit jacket, drawing his attention to the holster hidden beneath. I intend to protect my people. Danyl gives a sharp exhale of contempt.
“I could find another chair,” suggests the ma?tre de.
“Absolutely not,” I answer. “Find him another table.’
All the nearby tables are occupied, hence my suggestion, but Danyl tips his head to a couple in the corner, two tables away. “Move them or I will.”
The ma?tre de’s face falls, but he rushes to move the unfortunate diners before the bruiser with the beat-up face can follow through with his threat.
“I’ll arrange for their bill to be paid,” Ed says, reading my mind. “It’s the least we can do for making them breathe the same air as degenerates.” With deliberate timing, he lifts his glass of wine and raises it to Katarina.
“Send champagne to their table too,” she says. “With my compliments.”
When Ed goes to respond, I know it won’t be nice. “Ed,” I warn, keeping my voice low. Danyl has moved away, but I don’t want to take any chances tonight. “Please don’t make this situation any more awkward than it already is.”
I don’t need to explain why. We all know I’m going to have to spend the evening looking adoringly at my supposed wife-to-be while the woman I love looks on.
“Who knows,” Grace says, looking from Ed to Katarina, “by the end of the evening, you two might end up as best buddies. All you need is an open mind and a warm heart.”
Katarina scoffs. “Someone got laid recently.”
“I’m bringing ear defenders to work next week,” grumbles Ed. He’s testing Katarina’s tolerance to the new arrangement.
Katarina turns to Grace, but there’s a sparkle of mischief and not malice in her eyes. “What part of discreet didn’t you understand?” she asks. “Do I need to buy you a gag?”
“Get one for Duke too,” Ed suggests.
Grace huffs. “I take it back. Maybe we should keep you two separate.”
“And we should definitely change the subject,” I add. “Remember where we are and what roles we’re supposed to be playing.”
Katarina reaches across the table and I take her hand. “You’re right as always, my love,” she says, then lowers her voice further when she adds, “Now kiss my hand and look adoringly into my eyes while we’ve all got empty stomachs and there’s less chance of someone throwing up.”
As I lift my fiancée’s fingers to my lips, it’s Grace I’m talking to when I say, “Two weeks, one day until I become the luckiest man in the world.”
Ed gags, making us all laugh and breaking the tension.
Surprisingly, the laughter continues throughout our meal.
We chat about inconsequential things because the whole point of this meal is to put on a performance.
TV shows. The weather. Our worst hangovers.
Our most embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions.
Fortunately, I’m playing the established role of grumpy asshole so I’m not expected to contribute much.
“Speaking of outfits, do you think I’d get away with a white tux for the party?” asks Ed, waving the bitesize piece of cheesecake skewered on his fork.
Katarina stares at him like he’s grown two heads. “I do not recall inviting you to my birthday party, Edison. Besides, white shows up the blood. And I would have to beat you up at some stage. Call it my birthday treat.’
Ed smiles. “Aw, sweetie, is that your way of saying you do want me there?”
“He will have to attend, Kat,” Grace says.
“He’s more or less organizing the whole thing.
I wasn’t joking when I said I don’t know the first thing about planning parties, and it needs to go without a hitch given we’re using a private residence.
” She nods her grateful thanks to me, as a professional might.
“It took some persuading to get the Moncriefs on board.”
Grace’s form of persuasion involved several sexual favors, and as my mind floods with the memory, my heated blood travels south.
Katarina rolls her eyes. “Fine, he’s invited.”
“Of course I am,” Ed says as if there was any doubt. “There’s no way I’m going to miss seeing Grace in her outfit.”
When the Bratva princess jolts suddenly, I assume something must be wrong, but she simply steals the chocolate mousse she and Grace were meant to be sharing. “Are you planning on upstaging me, Grace?”
Grace leans over to steal back a spoonful of mousse. “As if anyone could upstage you.”
I hate that she believes it. I hate it more that I can’t risk telling her how her beauty steals my breath every time I look at her.
“It’s only my needlework I’ll be showing off,” Grace promises. “I’m crocheting a black lace-effect dress. It’s going to take forever, but fortunately I have plenty of time in the evenings. It keeps my fingers busy.”
“I had heard you were skilled with your fingers,” I offer.
Ed clears his throat, reminding me to keep some thoughts to myself. “Grace, show Kat the Griffin you made.”
Katarina makes a face, leaning away as Grace picks up her cell. “Which one?”
Grace laughs. “Not the men,” she clarifies as she finds a photo of the toy she’d made for Quinn’s baby.
“Hmm, I suppose it’s sweet, if you like that sort of thing. Or babies,” Katarina says. “You and your hidden talents really are living up to the legendary status the Moncriefs have given you.”
“You told Kat they call you a legend?” Ed asks.
“God, no. I wouldn’t repeat that,” she replies.
They look to me and my stony face says it all. Do I look stupid enough to trust Katarina with all our secrets? “Who did tell you, Kat?”
Katarina normally has a great poker face, but her cheeks are flushed. She’s hiding something. “You know me, Duke. I always have my ear to the ground.”
Before I can demand a better explanation, Danyl appears at our table. “We’re leaving.”
Katarina purses her lips around a spoonful of mousse and slowly pulls it out clean. “I haven’t finished eating.”
“You’re in danger and we need to leave,” Danyl insists.
I feel the weight of the gun holstered to my shoulder. “What danger?”
“The Irish kind.”
Katarina scoops up more mousse. “That’s not danger, durak.” Idiot. “It’s curiosity. They want to see how we’ll react, and I for one won’t be scurrying away like a frightened mouse. If you don’t feel safe, go. I can look after myself.”
The Irish mafia are established enemies of the Bratva, but they’re not my enemies. Far from it. The McConkeys are friends of the Griffins, and that friendship extends to the Moncriefs, albeit tenuously.
Under normal circumstances, I should have nothing to fear, but being associated with any crime family doesn’t guarantee safety.
I glance around the restaurant. No one is paying us any particular interest. If they were, Danyl wouldn’t be so patient with Katarina.
I presume Andrey, who’s stationed outside the restaurant, has spotted the unwelcome company.