The Devil Among Us Ramsay Sinclair (librera reader .TXT) 📖

“Stupid boy,” he didn’t seem impressed. “The donations were supposed to be an optional gesture. He’s trying to bleed the stones dry.”

Now he was telling us that? I’d jolly well like my money back in that case.

“I’m sure nobody minds too much,” I said the complete opposite. “It’s all going towards our funding, after all.”

“That’s the spirit, Cooper,” he nodded enthusiastically.

The band conductor paused and interrupted our group setting to talk arrangements and timings with the Reids. They’d organised every minute of the evening and planned meticulously. The poor guy seemed afraid of messing up their schedule. Iona and DCI Reid were well and truly engrossed elsewhere, exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I wanted to be there when they would inevitably let something slip.

“Anything we can help with?” Abbey offered politely, catching onto my gist.

“Oh, no, no!” Iona assured us. “You two lovebirds enjoy your night. Just because we’ve lumbered ourselves with a dozen tasks, doesn’t mean you have to.”

DCI Reid agreed wordlessly, his masculine hands fumbling with a few electrical wires. It must take a lot of patience and attention to organise an event of this capacity.

“Go on. Have a dance. I want to watch two young lovers together, to see the magic happening there. Heaven knows I’m never getting that chance again,” she announced, much to DCI Reid’s shock. His cheeks wobbled in indignant retaliation. “Go on!” Iona flapped at us in the direction of the dancefloor where a dozen couples were either smooching or lost in each other's gazes.

That wasn’t going to get us a confession, so I tried to talk my way out of it.

“No, we don't dance.” Not only would this tear us away from DCI Reid, the whole reason this event was so important to us, but I also couldn’t dance. Or I hadn’t ever tried to, at least.

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Cooper. I’m sure you’ll be fine. There’s nothing better than being close to the one you love.”

Iona wouldn’t let us wriggle out of it, but Abbey noticed my internal panic and picked up the slack, quicker on the ball than I was.

“We can catch up afterwards though when you're not busy? I need some advice on how to deal with detectives in a relationship if you get my gist,” Abbey lied, wincing subtly as an apology. So long as we were on track with the plan, nothing else mattered.

I was convinced she’d done this sort of thing before. Either that or her college acting classes really did pay off.

“Of course, dearie,” Iona assured, visibly excited by Abbey's prospect of a girly natter. “I’m in dire need of a woman to talk to. I don’t know many here. It’s exciting to find someone who understands me.”

Painting a fake smile to our faces, I let Abbey drag me towards the floor.

“This is bloody torture,” I muttered when we were out of earshot.

Abbey hummed agreeably. “Wait, did you mean having to speak to DCI Reid normally or the thought of having to dance?”

Underneath our formal shoes, the tiles changed into slippery ones. She instantly merged in with the other dancers and pulled me flush to her with no chance of escape.

“Now that you mention it, it’s both. Abbey, you know I don’t dance.” My muscles tensed up and my throat went dry as a bone. Dancing gave me pure, inexplicable stage fright.

“Shh. We’ve got to impress them. What did we say earlier, hm? Schmooze and network with Iona. She’s watching us, so we can’t exactly bottle it now.” Thate convinced me, her body warm and inviting. Perhaps it wasn’t the worst task that we could’ve been given by the Reids. “Have you ever even tried to dance before?”

I glanced over and saw DCI Reid coaxing me forward using hand motions.

“No, but I've a feeling you’re using this situation to your advantage,” I muttered, trying to find the rhythm to the song. “You have always said you’ve wanted to dance with me.”

“Can you blame a girl for trying?” She cosied up to me in victory. “Don’t think about the music. Think about us together.”

“Are you trying to kill me?” I panicked. Abbey rested her cheek on my shoulder.

“We’re in love, remember?” she teased. “Put this one, here.” She led by example, moving my left hand to touch her hip.

“There? Are you lying?” I tried to sneak a peek at the other couples.

“No,” she snorted over the soulful melody, where the saxophone played on the off beats but filled the bar passionately.

The warm sensation caught me by surprise, and I realised it was her ragged breath on my neck. A rush of goosebumps covered my entire body from head to toe when we swayed on beat with the brass band and this time it wasn’t because of the weather. Dancing had never appeared so intimate from the outside view.

“You’re doing well. Really well,” Abbey admitted soppily. “I like dancing with you.”

“It’s not so bad.” I chuckled, liking to think that I was getting the hang of it. Relaxing and loosening up, it was the best I’d felt all evening; in spite of the huge weight lying on our shoulders.

A jazzy solo accompanied the sways of us couples on the floor, everyone intoxicated but to a perfect amount. Tipsy, really. At the stage where everything smelled of roses and hazed over.

“We’ll make a CID officer out of you yet. You did good back there,” I whispered, uncertain my voice was heard.

“I did? They were friendlier than I expected, considering people hiding things are usually cagey.” We weaved past two constables slobbering over each other, which in my opinion was a bit too far for a work gala.

I wouldn’t want my team to see me in that sort of situation, but then again, I could already see Tony and Cillian watching their DI dancing. They’d ridicule me when we returned to the station next week. I’d have to avoid them as much as possible.

“Maybe we can nick a champagne flute