No matter how hard she tried, Cosmo always managed to ruin her evenings. Iris let out a breath and touched her hairpins until assured she had it all together.

It had been far too long since he’d had a woman.

Mickey noted the security uniforms around the room then shifted his stance to lean against the oversized column out of their lines of sight.

Naturally, he’d responded to the feel of Iris pulled up against him. Watching her now, that clingy white dress encouraged his imagination to take flight.

She was one stellar creature. A real class act.

And totally off-limits for more than the obvious reasons. As Cosmo’s daughter, he’d never be able to fully trust her. With that red-gold hair and those brandy-colored eyes-not to mention those great natural tits-she’d lure a man into making mistakes.

Mistakes could get a guy killed. Look what happened to Brian.

Look, don’t touch was clearly the way to proceed with Miss Fortune. Then he recalled her scent, musky and exotic with promise, as he’d tasted her ear. Definitely better not to eat, drink or breathe around her, either.

He’d have to watch her, no way around that. Who was calling her at this hour if not Cosmo? The tricky bastard must have given her the goods for safekeeping, though she acted cool as can be about it. No, it was too convenient. Cosmo had stashed a load of stolen gems, and his daughter owned an upscale jewelry store.

Had she fenced the stuff for him? Was that Cosmo’s angle? Stiff the bosses and try to sell the stones and make a real killing? He was about to learn all about killing firsthand.

Mickey flagged down a passing waiter and pressed a twenty into the guy’s hand with a few whispered directions. His gaze returned to the stoic David, lost in conversation with more tuxes. The guy was an idiot. Beside him, Iris waited, elegant and regal in her patience. A woman like her wouldn’t wait forever-not patiently, anyway. A woman like her demanded promises, grand gestures, sacrifices.