He crossed to her and lovingly stroked his fingers down her cheek. “You look gorgeous.” Gently, he leaned down to rub his lips across hers. “I’m the luckiest man in the entire world,” he added. Stepping back, he allowed his gaze to sweep down her body. “Old Vegas is absolutely right.”
She grinned up at him. “It’s all about the shoes,” she answered, lifting the hem of her dress to show him the ones he picked. “You were right.”
It did something to his gut to know she actually purchased his selection and was wearing them for him tonight. “My wife is my treasure,” he whispered, and then remembered that he had a present for her.
Pulling the black velvet box out of his pocket, he handed it to her. “It seemed appropriate for us.”
Emma opened the lid and stared down at the sparkling present. It touched her and warmed her blood simultaneously. Running her fingers over the necklace, she glanced up at him. “Handcuffs, Greyson?”
Her face showed no emotion and for a second, he believed he’d screwed up.
“Because you’re my cop, and it reminded me of what brought us together.” Then, he leaned in and went for it, “and because you belong to me, and they’re a symbol of that too,” he whispered in her ear. “When you wear it, I want you to remember who owns your heart.”
Emma stared up into his eyes as heat flooded her body. Heck yeah, she was all his. “Help me put it on?” she asked, turning and lifting her hair.
He hung the platinum chain around her neck, sliding one cuff through the other, so it dangled low between her breasts.
“It’s perfect, Greyson,” she admitted, and for all the reasons he gave. It was now her favorite piece of jewelry.
The other two people watched in silence. Briggs found it hard not to be impressed. His boss was super slick with his gift. That necklace with any other woman would have had a different outcome. Not all women would hear the intended meaning and not been offended by it.
“We better go,” Brynn said, noticing the time.
Croft couldn’t speak. His heart was pounding in his chest as his beautiful wife placed her arm through his and smiled at him with such love and admiration.
In that moment, his life was complete.
Emma was his, and he was proud of her.
~ Chapter Thirteen ~
Exiting the elevator, they greeted the night guards before leaving. Croft noticed that both men were checking the women out. It warmed his blood to have his wife on his arm. She fit the persona of FBI director’s wife perfectly.
There was never a doubt in his mind that she would have any problem filling the role. Emma was flawless and went above and beyond her duties as wife. He’d be lying if he didn't admit he was completely turned on in that moment. It was as if she was two different women--tough, smart cop during the day and sexy siren at night.
She was luring him in and holding him completely captive. Who knew two months ago that any of this was possible? He was just a bachelor and never thought he’d have this kind of luck. He had some really good love karma going on right now. There was no way he deserved her in his life, and he’d never let her go.
That was for damn sure.
As they cleared the entrance, the doorman nodded and winked at both men. Yeah, his wife was sexy, and it was destined to be a long night until he got her home.
When she saw the car waiting for them, she turned to her husband. “You’ve thought of everything,” she murmured, running her hand up the front of his tux. “And you’re carrying a gun,” she stated, feeling the shoulder harness through the tuxedo.
He dropped his arm around her waist. “I am, because I’m not willing to risk my woman’s life.”
Emma probably should have argued, but why bother? She could have reminded him that there were going to be twenty undercover cops in the crowd and she was secure, but instead Emma chose to enjoy his protectiveness.
It was a win-win. She’d stay safe and be completely turned on by her husband’s masculine prowess.
When he helped her into the stretch Rolls Royce, she made room for him beside her. Climbing in, he allowed the driver to close the door behind them. Croft dropped his arm over his wife’s shoulders and pulled her against his side. “I want you to stick by me,” he said as he was being driven mad by the lavender scent of her hair and perfume.
“Yes, Grey,” she answered agreeably.
He stared at her like she had three eyes. “You’re not going to argue with me? Why?”
Emma laid her head on his shoulder. “We’re going tonight to observe and meet the Mason family, but more so, I’m there as your wife. This night is your coming out to all the people in town. You’re the new director of the FBI, and that’s just as important as the job I have to do.”
Greyson didn't have words in that moment. It astounded him how she always just knew. Croft didn't have to tell her how he’d be judged, measured, and gauged by this evening. She simply understood that his nerves were raw and worried that he couldn’t pull off the big job.
“I adore you, Detective Croft,” he replied, dropping a kiss on her forehead.
Emma offered him more, whispering in his ear as her partner and Agent Briggs were chatting away and distracted. “I think tonight I’d rather be Mrs. Greyson Croft, if you don’t mind.”
Her words made his blood boil in his body. If they were alone, he would be taking her like some wild, out of control lunatic. The fact that she was giving him this huge gift, and choosing to be his wife over her own identity, cemented her into his heart forever. She was his soul mate, lover, and everything. No one knew him better than his Emma did.
“Tonight, I’ll call you that in bed,” he promised in hushed tones as he played with one end of the chain, while it dangled deliciously between her cleavage.
It was getting hot in there. Emma swore the temperature was up at least another ten degrees.
“Do you really like the necklace, honey?” he inquired, again whispering only for her to hear. “I can return it. Was it too caveman-like of me?”
“Is it how you truly feel?” she asked.
Croft weighed his options. There was that little fear that he’d scare her away. “Yes.”
Emma stared up into his face, feeling nothing but bliss. “Then, it’s perfect. I love the meaning behind it, because I am yours,” she admitted, pointing at her wedding ring and then his.
“I meant what I said, Emma. You belong to me.” Croft was burning up inside at his own words. He stared into her eyes, waiting for her response to see if he went too far by crossing some invisible boundary.
“I agree, and I’ll think of you and us when I wear it. Tonight will always be one of my most treasured memories,” she murmured in his ear before blowing warm air across the lobe. His entire body went taut beside her and there was this giddiness rising in her body. He may own her, but there was no doubt that it was reciprocal. Greyson was just as trapped.
Before he could continue and share what was bouncing around his brain, his partner interjected.
“Holy shit!” Briggs muttered as he pointed out the window. There was a full media frenzy as people were pressed against the barriers surrounding the venue.
Ahead of them, there were lines of limos in all shapes and sizes as they waited to drop off their passengers.
“I guess this is a huge deal,” muttered Brynn. “I know we said it was tough to get into, but I didn't expect this.”
“I’m just impressed that I’m a guest of the new FBI director. I feel honored and privileged,” Briggs added, winking at his boss. “To think, I knew him when he was an ordinary agent.”
Croft ignored his teasing.
Emma sat twisting her husband’s ring on his finger. This was going to be a strategic nightmare. She hoped Ford had it under control.
As they pulled up to the carpet, it was time for them to exit. “Curtis, you’re out first, and we keep the women at our sides,” he stated. “Smile and look like you do this all the time.”
“Emma, t
here’s our boss,” stated Brynn. “That has to be his wife.”
She stared out the window as the Rolls pulled to a stop. “She’s pretty,” Emma replied, once again feeling very out of place. She hoped that she could pull it off. Over and over in her head, Emma kept praying that she could do this.
“Her name is Trudy,” answered Greyson, and then he leaned down to whisper into Emma’s ear, “She’s pretty, but you’re breathtaking. No woman here compares to my sweet stuff.”
She squeezed his hand at the use of her nickname. It gave her peace and that little tie to her old life. After Briggs exited and helped Brynn out, he moved them towards the stairs and the building entrance, and she knew it was their turn.
“We have to have small talk and pretend we care, Emma,” he apologized. “I have to play the game.”
“I’ll try to not embarrass you,” she answered as he stepped out.
He glanced back in as he held out his hand. Greyson was surprised that she could ever even believe that was possible. “You never could, because I’m proud of my wife. This is all show. We’re the real deal in all of this.”
Taking his offered hand, the second she exited, they were assaulted with flashing lights and reporters calling to her husband. He smiled warmly and leaned down to drop a kiss to his wife’s lips as they moved away from the line of people.
“Greyson!” called the commissioner. “Over here, son,” he stated.
Croft took her hand in his and led her over to his friend. Once there, he made the introductions. “Emma, this is Thomas and Trudy Booker, and this is my beautiful wife, Emma Croft.” He winked at her, when he said her name they both relived the conversation between them.
“Good evening, Commissioner,” she stated and then turned towards his wife. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, Mrs. Booker. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Please, you’re not at work. Tonight is about enjoying the evening,” her boss’s wife said. “Call me, Trudy.”
Emma accepted her offer.
“What do you think about all this?” Thomas Booker inquired, looking around.
She followed the motion of his hand, taking in all the crowd and noise. “As a cop, this is a nightmare, but as Greyson’s wife, it’s enjoyable to be out seeing our fine city and everything it has to offer.”
Trudy laughed. “That was very diplomatic, and spoken like the wife of someone who has power in this city.”
Emma didn't think of her husband as a power player. He was Grey and her love muffin. She refused to see him differently. “As a city official, I’m supposed to be diplomatic. Then, add in that I’m Greyson’s wife, and that means double duty on the diplomacy front.”
The commissioner laughed a deep masculine chuckle. “How right you are, my dear.” Then his focus was on Croft. “You lucky dog! Your wife isn’t pretty, she’s incredibly sexy,” he said, leaning into his friend. “She’ll be stirring up some fantasies tonight.”
Emma heard every word and knew her husband wasn’t exactly thrilled. His body demeanor was tense and rigid, and there were lines of stress on his face. As she held his hand, Emma began to soothingly stroke his knuckles with her fingertips.
Croft had to let it go, or he’d say something uncomplimentary. He just prayed the man wouldn’t insult Emma, or it would get ugly rather fast.
All four moved towards the building.
“Emma, I have to say that I love your gown. Where did you get it?” inquired Trudy Booker. She too heard her husband’s comment and wasn’t impressed.
She gave her the name of the boutique. “I find that I’m attracted to the older style of vintage Vegas. When I saw it, I knew it would be perfect for this evening. If you’re going to do a premier in Vegas, you should go old school glamour.”
They continually complimented each other back and forth, while Emma kept scanning the area for anything dangerous. As a waiter stopped, he handed them each a glass of champagne. Her husband clinked his against hers and grinned wickedly.
The commissioner pulled out two cigars, and his lighter. “Greyson, care for one?”
Oh boy!
He waited for his wife to make a comment about him smoking. He braced for it.
“May I?” she asked, taking the cigar cutter from the commissioner’s hand and snipping the tip from her husband’s cigar. She then handed it back to him, taking the lighter and flicking it open for him.
When his eyes met hers, they burned with heat, passion, and so much love. There was something sexy about his woman tending to him.
Emma handed the lighter back, and then ran her fingertips down her husband’s cheek. “If you will excuse me, I’ll be right back,” she stated, walking away from him.
The commissioner waited until his wife was distracted and out of ear shot. “Jesus, Greyson, my boy, you are a lucky man. The last FBI director’s wife had nothing on yours.”
Croft stared at his wife as she stood not far from them. Emma was checking on Brynn and his partner. “I’m very fortunate.” When she had lit his cigar for him, it spoke volumes. They had a unified front in front of all the people who would judge him. The simple action heated Croft’s body. God, he was going to have sex all night long when he got her home, just to quench the fire burning in his gut.
“I myself wish I had some young arm candy like you to take out on the town but alas, Trudy did the time and earned the reward.”
Croft didn't like the way that sounded. Yes, Emma was attractive, but she wasn’t his trophy wife. She was everything that mattered in the world, plus an amazing detective.
“Oh look! Dyer Mason has found a new redhead to target.”
That was the number one sentence he never wanted to hear. It terrorized him, since he knew what the man liked to do with every woman he met. The last person he wanted Dyer near was his Emma.
Greyson knew he couldn’t make a scene, so he hung back, watching and waiting like a predator after prey. If she needed him, he could be there in a matter of seconds.
If the man so much as breathed on his woman, there’d be holy hell to pay.
He wondered how Emma would feel bailing him out of jail…
Emma needed a few minutes away from the commissioner and his wife. They were staring at her like she was a circus act, and it was making her increasingly nervous. Stepping away, she checked on her partner and Briggs. She needed to warn them not to be pounding booze and getting carried away. Yes, they were there as guests under her husband’s job, but they still had work to do. Tonight was a reconnaissance of sort. They needed to be alert and take in everything around them.
As she turned, there stood a man in her path. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to move around him to return to her husband. Only, he didn't seem to get the hint.
“I’m sorry. I saw you across the room, and the rumor is that you’re married to the new FBI director,” the man said, smiling. “I had to come meet you, especially after checking you out. Your ass is very hot in that dress.”
He creeped Emma right out.
All the hairs on her neck stood. “I’m the director’s wife,” she answered as she waited for him to continue and ignored his observation of her anatomy. He got lucky. Greyson wasn’t right there, or he’d be a dead man.
“I’m sorry. I just assumed you knew me. We’re the most well-known family here in Vegas,” he added, holding out his hand. “I’m Dyer Mason.”
Emma grinned, not at the man, but because the suspect she hoped to find had come right to her.
“Oh, yes, Randall Mason’s son. I’ve heard of him.”
Immediately, there was a flash of anger, and he valiantly fought to hide it. Unfortunately for him, the cop in her was still on duty and didn't miss it.
That alone had her interest.
“You know my dad?” he asked as he tried to get into her personal space. There were a great deal of beautiful women there, but this one had his attention. He’d yet to have her.
If the man wanted to bait a big angry tiger, he was g
oing to get clawed. Emma could feel her husband’s eyes on her back, but before she could say anything, another voice interrupted.
“Who is this lovely creature?” came the older man’s voice, interrupting them.
Emma was relieved. She didn't want to watch her husband lose his mind over the man staring at her chest. Holding out her hand, she introduced herself. “I’m Mrs. Greyson Croft.”
He laughed. “Ah yes, the new FBI Director’s wife, but I also hear you’re a homicide detective in our city.”
“I am,” she answered as the older man also checked her out.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma Croft.”
“I don’t believe you’ve told me your name,” she paused. “Have we met before and it’s simply slipped my mind?” She tried to play diplomat, but already there was the inkling of his identity. The son resembled his father.
He grinned at her comment. “I’m Randall Mason, and I’ve heard a great deal about you, Emma. We’ll have to speak later, as the show is about to begin. I hope you and your husband enjoy it. I’ll find you afterwards, and we can spend some time together.”
She now had a face to match both names. Okay, at least something productive came out of this evening. Emma watched as they walked away.
“Tell me he didn't bother you,” stated her husband in hushed tones, his cigar still in his hand.
Emma glanced up into his stormy eyes and ran a fingertip across his lower lip. For now, her duties entailed soothing the savage beast. “I’m fine, babe. I’ve now met the two people we needed to talk to, and I’ll corner them later. This is far from over.”
“How do you know?”
First, Emma lightly kissed him. She desired to ease his stress that was gripping his body. “Because they found me, and Randall Mason knew my name. Someone’s been doing their research on us.”
Everything in Greyson went hard and cold. Suddenly, having his wife there seemed like a very bad idea.
He thought back to procuring the invite for the evening. Something in his gut told him they didn't play Mason on this one. Croft was beginning to believe the man wanted them there all along.
Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2) Page 33
