But after tonight, they are going to realize who the criminal is in this family and it sure as hell isn’t Asher.
“You’re okay, Ryan. It’s only the Governor,” I chuckle and Asher growls beneath his breath, sending waves of anticipation over my skin. I like that sound. I want to hear it while he is making love to me, deep and hard.
“You better stop those nasty thoughts or I’m going to take you up to my room and we won’t take a breath for days.”
“Liar,” I say, right as my father stops in front of me. “Hey, dad.”
“Sweetheart,” he greets, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. “Who is this?”
“Ryan Sinclair, Governor Thomas. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I met your lovely daughter in the gardens and asked if she’d accompany me to the event.”
“Sinclair?” My dad ponders on the last name. “Oh, that’s right, Sinclair. Your great grandfather started Sinclair Brewing Co. Isn’t that right?”
“That’s correct, sir,” Asher says.
How the hell did he get that backstory?
“Well, that’s wonderful, but I don’t think you need to be with our daughter,” my mom states as kindly as she can. “She’s been through—”
“Mom,” I cut her off as politely as I can. “I think I’m ready for a night of fun instead of being locked up in the house.”
She flinches away and my dad looks down at his feet ashamed.
“Weren’t you about to ask me to dance, Mr. Sinclair?” I ask Asher, hoping he gets me away from my suffocating parents.
“
If it is okay with your father, I would love to,” Asher says, leaving the ball in my dad’s court.
“I supposed that’s okay. I’ll be speaking with you later, Mr. Sinclair.” My dad holds out his hand and Asher meets it, giving it a firm shake.
“Absolutely. Congratulations on the election. It is well-deserved.”
I watch my dad’s expression turns grim for a moment before he catches himself and smiles again. “Thank you. Take care of our little girl.”
“On my life,” Asher states, wrapping his arm around my hip and guiding me to the left toward the dance floor no one is on.
A few people smile and say hello, but Asher is combing the area. “No, nothing yet. Where is he?” he asks thin air.
“What?” I ask just as he spins me before catching my hand in the air and tugging me against his body. The string quartet plays a slower song, something someone can fall in love with if a person isn’t careful. We gain the attention of everyone around us and I thought others would join us, but no one does. It’s just me and Asher.
The way it’s meant to be.
“Sorry, I was talking to the guys in my ear. They are asking if I’ve seen Zeke, one of our friends. I haven’t spotted him. He is in a burgundy suit, of course. He doesn’t do anything half ass, that’s for sure.”
“Wait, they can hear you?” I ask in horror, thinking about what happened on the elevator.
“Every word,” he mumbles.
“Ash— Ryan,” I correct myself, scolding him for having someone hear us.
“It’s okay. I don’t think they heard us.”
Liar.
“Have you seen your Uncle?” he asks, twirling me around, then dipping me.
“No, not yet.”