A Claw-some Affair (MEOW FOR MURDER Book 3)

catches her gaze and she quickly excuses herself.
I watch as a man with a white feathered mask catches her by the elbow, and when he turns, I note the fact he has a slight bald spot near the top of his head.
They seem to exchange a few heated words before she breaks free from his grip and takes off toward the door where a man in a red suit pulls her in close before the crowd closes over them like a tomb.
Jackson’s jaw tightens as he cranes his neck in the direction Madeline took off in.
He reverts his attention my way with a tight smile.
“Bowie, do keep your dance card open. I look forward to getting to know you much, much better this evening.” He nods as he stalks off toward the bar.
A small giggle works its way up my throat.
Shep's brows rise over his mask, but judging by that stony-faced look, he’s not nearly as amused as I am.
“Bowie, you can’t be serious about that guy. He’s completely disconnected from reality.”
“I can’t help it. It’s nice to feel appreciated as a woman,” I snip as I iron out the front of my dress just to prove to Shep that I happen to have a figure hiding out under this tarp. “Besides, if the only man I can get to give me a sideways glance happens to be disconnected to reality, so be it. If you haven’t noticed, my unique situation leaves me a bit disconnected with reality, too.” Shep not only knows about the fact I’m a wanted felon, but just last month he helped me speak to my father.
That frown on his face lets me know I’m not getting his approval anytime soon.
He leans in and I can feel the warmth of his body.
“Have you received any more of those ominous notes?” he whispers and I take in his warm scent, the spice of his cologne, and the mint on his breath.
Last month, both Shep and I received messages alluding to the fact that someone was watching us—more to the point me. And as much as it makes me shudder, I’ve decided to let it ride for now.
“No,” I whisper back as my hand absentmindedly latches onto his tie. I can’t help it. I like the proximity of his body to mine, and a part of me wants to hold on for dear life. “Have you?” I bat my lashes up at him, doing my best to flirt, but Shep remains unflinching.
“Not yet, but I anticipate something coming up soon. Do you have any idea who might be behind this?”
My eyes quickly dart around the room and happen to snag on Regina Valentine dressed in red, with an eye patch covering one eye. It’s safe to say she marches to the beat of a different drummer.
“Regina laid out some second-tier threat last month. She’s still interested in you.” I frown his way. “They could have come from her. I don’t like to think about the alternative.”
The alternative in question is someone from one of the mob families I ticked off. “Both the Fazios and Morettis aren’t too pleased with me at the moment.”
Shep’s lips curve at the mention of those infamous families. Not only does Shep specialize in writing thrillers, they just so happen to be based on real life mobsters—specifically my family. Apparently, Shep knows as much about the mob as I do, or so he thinks. He’s a little jagged when it comes to the details.
A thought comes to me.
“Hey? If you want, I can read over the manuscript you’re working on and I can, you know, make sure it reads authentic.” I don’t dare breathe a word about the mob in a room with this many roving ears.
His cheek rises on one side as the threat of a lopsided grin threatens to break out.
“I’d like that.” He inches back and his eyes ride over me once again, and I swear on all that is holy, they leave a sizzling trail in their wake.
Regina calls to him from a few feet away.
“Come quick!” she calls. “Your detective services are needed.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at that one.
Shep turns my way. “Save a dance for me?” His eyes magnetize to mine, and it’s simply electric.
“You bet.” I swoon as he takes off to see what farce Regina has dreamed up now.
I head over to the bar and help Mud as we dole out drinks to the well-to-do-masses—vodka concoctions that have been christened as the designer drink of the evening called Masquerade Nights. Once the demand for hard liquor slows, I thread my way through the jovial crowd to see if I can find my waitresses—as in the girls who work for me in the Manor Café, not to mention checking the canapé supply in the kitchen. But I don’t get three feet from the bar before spotting Tilly in her gorgeous gold gown.
“Hey, chickee, how’s it going?” I ask before noticing that she’s holding the hand of a man in a pinstriped suit.
She leans my way. “Better than expected. I’m working on a two-fer for the night. And you?”
I’m about to answer when Jackson Mortimer blinks into existence before me and tucks his lips to my ear.
“Meet me in the library, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I’ve got something special to show you that I think you’ll really appreciate.”
I suck in a quick breath just as Tilly giggles like a schoolgirl over at the man in the pinstriped suit.
Shoot.
There goes a perfectly good vision that I would have sworn on my upside down life was meant for Tilly.
I’ll have to break the news to her later.
Although, according to her body language, she won’t be too disappointed.
I offer Jackson a cool glance. “As enticing as your offer sounds, I think—”
I’m about to turn him down flat when gasps and light screams emerge from nearby.
The crowd parts as a woman in a pink dress staggers her way over with her hand clasped over her neck.
A jewel-encrusted mask falls from