The Mane Event (7 page)

It had been their sign. The move they made when Amber Kollerici backed you into a corner to discuss the fun world of knitting or when Dominic Bannon had you backed into a corner threatening to pound your face in. Their secret sign for “Get me the fuck outta here!”

With a smile he didn’t try to hide, he held up the bra and panty set he’d been eyeing and pointed at it. He raised an eyebrow. Immediately she caught on.
If I help you, you wear this
…

She scratched her forehead with one finger. The middle one. He laughed and went off to save his damsel in distress.

Wasn’t holiday shopping for your family bad enough without having to add running into the ex-husband? Especially when he stopped to buy lingerie for his fiancée. Then she did that thing again. That thing her post-breakup therapist told her never to do when she met up with her ex to go over property splits or paperwork.

Ask him how he was doing.

Because Matt would tell her. He’d tell her in detail. And it was always bad. The man made über-money, lived in the poshest part of Manhattan with his hot, slut fiancée. Yet he always found a reason to complain about something—if not everything.

Already he’d been talking for a good twenty minutes about how everyone at his firm hated him. Of course they hated him. Matt made being an asshole into an art form. But, of course, that couldn’t possibly be the reason. They didn’t understand him. His brilliance had them all jealous, or they envied the fact he could buy a new car every other year. It definitely wasn’t because he was an asshole.

For the billionth time since she realized her marriage had been a huge mistake, Dez kicked herself. What the hell had she been thinking anyway? That he might actually like her? That he wanted to be with her to raise a family? That he’d be okay with her being on The Job? She shuddered, thinking about those many arguments over her late nights and overtime schedule.

Well, that’s what she got for trying to prove her sisters wrong. She wanted to show them she could get a man. That she could be happy.

Idiot.

Well, she had no one to blame but herself. All that aside, she still needed to get away. She just never knew how to politely get herself out of these conversations. At her very core, she still felt a little guilty over their breakup. So telling him to fuck off and storming away never seemed like an option.

Dez glanced around. She’d been shopping for her sisters and their brats when she found herself wandering around the lingerie department and thinking about Mace. She never worried about underwear too much, but she did have on her special, dark red lace panties with matching bra. Although she had no intention of letting Mace see her in them, she still couldn’t bring herself to whip out the Hanes Her Way for this particular occasion.

Now, pricing all the great stuff they had available, she found herself thinking all sorts of dirty and morally appalling things she could do to Mace and that he could do to her. The nuns had been right. She was no better than Mary Magdalene.

“And you know the only reason he’s trying to prove I’m using the firm’s money for inappropriate purchases is because he’s jealous of me.”

Dez barely stifled a yawn when she suddenly felt someone’s eyes on her. The intensity of it almost overwhelmed her. It licked across her spine, the back of her neck. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. Far from it. She looked around, finally catching sight of Mace. One look into those gold eyes and her entire body clenched. She almost squirmed.

Why he was in the lingerie section she had no idea, but she would always be eternally grateful.

She screamed at him in her head. “Get that fine ass over here and save me!” Although that seemed kind of useless. She remembered the hand signals they came up with should they find themselves in such a situation. They went from, “Hey, when you got a minute, could you stop by” to “
Get me the fuck outta here!
”

Dez really hoped she was using the correct one now. She’d lose her mind if she instead utilized the never-before accessed “We’re going to the closet to make out. Come get me in twenty minutes.”

Instead of rushing to her side, Mace held up a panty and lingerie set she would never try to pour her body into. Had the man lost his mind? Why the hell would he show her that? Then he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Christ!
Men truly were disgusting. She rubbed her forehead with her middle finger, which made him laugh.

He came toward her, but Mace never simply walked. No. He stalked. Like she were prey. This time was no different. As he moved toward her, she noticed he stared at her face. Then, as he got closer, his eyes moved onto her mouth.

Holy shit, he wanted to kiss her and seemed hell-bent on doing just that.

She swallowed. Hard. She didn’t know what to do. Clearly the man was taking advantage of her current dire situation. And, clearly, she wanted him to.

God, did she want him to.

The whole time, her ex kept talking. But she’d stopped listening. She couldn’t hear anything over her poor heart trying to burst out of her body.

Suddenly Mace was there. In front of her. Her ex’s voice droned on for another thirty seconds or so, then stopped, since he was no longer the center of her attention. He’d always hated that. Hence the divorce.

Mace’s arm slipped around her waist and he pulled her flush against his body. His head lowered toward hers, and for the first time she noticed Mace had a healthy head of hair. She frowned. She could have sworn only yesterday the man had been nearly bald.

His lips were inches away from hers.

“Don’t you dare, Mace Llewellyn,” she whispered in desperation. When did her life start spiraling out of control? She always had control. Or, at the very least, the illusion of it. But Mace, he wouldn’t let her have even that. Not if he could help it.

“I’m just helpin’ out, baby,” he whispered back. Then his lips were on hers, and suddenly Macy’s giant department store, three days before Christmas, completely cleared out and she and Mace were the only people left in the entire building.

That’s how it felt anyway. She couldn’t think beyond his lips taking hers. His tongue licked across her bottom lip and, like the weak-willed female she was, her mouth opened just enough for him to stake a claim. His tongue slid in and instinctually her tongue met his. She tasted spicy cinnamon and Mace. Both tasted wonderful. No one had ever kissed her like this before. Like they were taking ownership.

Her arms slid around his neck, his free hand finding its way into her hair. He gripped the back of her head and held her steady for his onslaught. Not letting her back away—like she even considered it an option. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not at the moment anyway. It had been a long time since she’d been this close to a man. Any man. But to have a physical god like Mace Llewellyn kissing her like he’d been waiting years to do this…well, a girl should never rush through that. And she didn’t. She took her time exploring Mace’s mouth and tongue.

Tonight would be brutal. Thank God she had something to do after their dinner or she’d be getting herself into all sorts of trouble. With just a kiss, Mace practically made her forget…well, everything. Everything but him.

Throat clearing. He kept hearing someone clearing their throat. Who the fuck would dare try to get his attention when he had the most divine tongue in his mouth?

He gripped Dez tighter, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. Damn, but the woman could kiss. She tasted so good, too. When he’d walked over to rescue her from the no-neck guy, he had no intention of kissing her. But the closer he got the more he found himself staring at those lips. Those perfectly shaped, full lips. Suddenly he forgot all about no-neck and could think only about Dez. Sweet, adorable, damn confusing Dez.

That throat clearing again. Well, that would start getting on his damn nerves. Regretfully, he pulled away from her, looking down into her beautiful face. He could smell her lust for him. He would bet Dez was as wet as he was hard. Maybe they could just go to the Ritz and have dinner after some serious fucking? Nah. Dez was too nice a girl for that.

Dammit
.

“Excuse me?”

Mace glowered at the strange voice speaking to him. Without looking away from Dez, “Who is that?”

“That’s my ex…Matt…uh…somebody…”

Mace beamed in absolute delight. She’d forgotten the man’s name. The name that once belonged to her.
Good job, Llewellyn
.

Growling low, Mace turned just his head to glare at Dez’s ex. The man physically blanched and probably didn’t even realize he backed up several steps. Mace really wanted to shift right then and there. Rip the man’s throat out and bring his lifeless corpse back to Dez as a kind of pre-wedding gift. Although right in the middle of Macy’s…that might be a bit tacky. Even for him.

“Go. Away.”

Whatever expression Mace had on his face, he didn’t have to repeat himself. No-neck stumbled back a couple more steps, turned, and quickly walked away with a “See ya, Dez” tossed over his shoulder. Mace watched until he couldn’t see him anymore, then he turned back to Dez. He still had her undivided attention. Good.

His hand slid around to cup her cheek, using his thumb to trace the line of her mouth. “That was better than I’d ever imagined. Like ten thousand times better.”

Dez swallowed. “Good to know.”

They gazed at each other, and Mace wondered if she’d be amenable to a quickie in one of the changing rooms. Just to take the edge off. Nah. She was too nice for that.
Dammit.

“Mace Llewellyn! What the hell are you doin’? Let that little girl go.”

Mace ignored Sissy Mae, but Dez apparently remembered they weren’t alone. That they were actually in the middle of a major department store, making out in the lingerie section. Her hands suddenly released the grip she had on his hair and began to push on his chest as she pulled away from him.

He growled. Really, how attached could Smitty be to his sister? Would he really notice if Mace killed her?

She lost her fucking mind! What the hell was she doing? Why hadn’t she decked him? Kicked him in the nuts? Set his hair on fire? Something! Other than kissing the presumptuous bastard back.

Her sisters were right. She had no friggin’ sense.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” Dez looked into the face of a woman who had to be Smitty’s sister. She looked exactly like him, only a smaller, girl version.

Dez took a deep breath as she took another step away from Mace. “Yeah. Yeah. Sure, I’m fine.”

The woman took hold of her wrist with a vicelike grip. “Well, why don’t you and I stop by the little girl’s room. Give you a little time to compose yourself.”

Mace suddenly tore his eyes away from Dez’s face to glare at her rescuer. “She looks fine to me.”

“That’s cause you’re a boy and you wouldn’t know any better.” She walked off, yanking Dez behind her.

Christ!
What a strong female. Strong as an ox.

The two women wandered around until they discovered a bathroom, while the woman introduced herself in one long rush as “Sissy Mae Smith. Smitty’s baby sister. Everybody just calls me Sissy. Or Sissy Mae. Some call me Mae. But I really don’t like that. So you can call me Sissy. Or Sissy Mae,” while dragging Dez into the bathroom with her.

Thankfully empty, Dez gripped a corner of one of the bathroom sinks and took in a couple of deep, calming breaths.

“That Mace sure does have a way, don’t he?”

“You could say that.” Dez splashed some cold water on her face. As she dried off with a paper towel, “You know, I’ve been up against guys covered in the blood of their coworkers. I’ve faced off against stone-cold contract killers who thought they had nothin’ to lose. I’ve even gone toe to toe with a sixteen-foot python that had recently finished digesting its owner and I could tell he wanted me as the tasty dessert. And yet, none of that freaked me out as much as Mace Llewellyn does.”

Sissy chuckled as she put on a dab of lip gloss. “Yeah, I know. That’s our Mace.”

Dez turned and leaned her butt against the sink, her arms crossed in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak but realized she had nothing to say. Or maybe she had way too much to say.

Sissy continued to touch up her makeup, but Dez could feel the woman watching her. She hated that. If there was something to say, then freakin’ say it.

“What?” The woman caught her making out in the lingerie department; normal pleasantries one has with a stranger didn’t seem to apply anymore. “Why do you keep staring at me?”

“Can I ask you a question?” Sissy’s accent flowed as thick as molasses. And she spoke as fast as Smitty talked slow. If the two didn’t look so similar, Dez would have never guessed they grew up in the same house.

“Why not?”

Sissy put her makeup away in her small leather purse and turned to face Dez. “You and Mace—”

“Whoa, Gidget. There is no me and Mace.”

“My name’s Sissy Mae. Or Sissy. Or—”

“What I’m trying to say is that there is Mace period. And Dez period. There is no combining of the two. We are two separate sentences.”

“Not to be rude, but you may be screaming ‘no way’ now, but out there you were screaming ‘dear God, yes!’ So I wanna make sure you ain’t about to hurt my boy.”

Dez turned to face her. “Me? Hurt Mace? What are you, high?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look, Sally Mae—”

“It’s Sissy Mae.”

“Whatever. All I’m saying is, I couldn’t hurt Mace. I don’t think there’s anybody who can.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You are his one weakness. Maybe his only one.”

Dez stared at Sissy Mae. Her mouth open. The woman must be sniffing glue. She didn’t think Mace had any weaknesses, but if he did, she couldn’t be one of them.

“Honey, I don’t know what load of crap he’s told you, but I’m guessing Mace’s only interest in me right now is that he didn’t fuck me before.”

“Well excuse me, darlin’, for being a bit direct and crass here—but that’s a huge load of bullshit.”

Dez blinked in surprise. Like that, Sissy Mae went from charming, soft-spoken Southerner to a bitch on tractor wheels. “Look, Sissy—”