“Indeed.” He didn’t want to ask why the morgue had a spare leg or why they didn’t come in pairs.
“I would have killed it tonight, Jay.” Her hands found her hips. “Killed it. No one does zombies like me . . .”
He held up his hands, palms forward. “My bad.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Now what am I going to do?”
“Work with what you’ve got?” He couldn’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be interested in hearing her pitch when just the sight of her took his breath away. And after seeing her in court, unorthodox though her methods were, he would be happy to give his wholehearted recommendation as to her professional skill.
She lifted her skirt, studying the hem of her dress. “Good idea. Do you have a pair of scissors?”
He stared at her, aghast. “You don’t need to destroy your clothes.”
She gave him a soothing pat, every press of her palm sending a zing of heat through his chest. “Zombies don’t dress in nice clothes. I’ll need to tear up my dress. Oh, and I’ll break off one of my heels to get the zombie lurch. I can shred my stockings, muss my hair, a little makeup . . .” Her face brightened. “I’ll let you get back to work. The next time you see me, I’ll look amazing.”
She looked amazing now, blazing as hot and wild as a forest fire. It seemed almost criminal that she would hide all that beauty under zombie rags and makeup.
He caught Elias checking her out and his eyes narrowed. Maybe a zombie costume wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
* * *
• • •
Zombie fever had swept through the party. Jay couldn’t tell the good zombies from the bad—or maybe that was a tribute to the acting skills of the guests. He’d set up a perimeter fence around the buffet table, forcing the zombies to stand in a civilized line for their food instead of mobbing the table in a feeding frenzy. He’d stepped on so much fake blood he was certain his leather shoes would never be the same. Zara had been missing for well over an hour, and he couldn’t spot her in the crowd.
“Party’s getting out of hand,” Elias said. “You want me to shut things down?”
“We can handle them. I’ve got a line of cabs standing by outside. First sign of trouble, and we’ll start hustling people out the door.”
“You want me to start with that one?” He pointed to a woman wrapped in bloodstained rags, a crown of skewered meat on her tangled hair, eyes dark circles in a mottled gray face. Balanced on a table, she cheered on the zombie doing shooters at the bar.
Relief flooded through his veins. Even if he hadn’t recognized her face, he would have known Zara from the energy that pulsed around her. “No. I’ll deal with her.”
“Jay!” Zara lurched toward him when he reached her table. “How did you know it was me?”
“Your shoe.”
She lifted her foot to look at her heel and lost her balance. He was there to catch her fall. Arms wrapped around her, he lowered her to the ground, her soft, curvy body, wrapped in nothing more than a tablecloth, sliding against his chest.
“Oh.” She let out a soft sigh, her breasts crushed between them, hands holding his shoulders tight. “Good catch.”
“It’s my job.” He looked down at her blacked-out eyes, cheeks smeared with gray makeup, lush lips painted a garish red. There was no reason to keep holding her, but he couldn’t let go. Only when she flashed him a rotted-teeth smile did he finally release her.
“Where did you get all . . .” He waved his hand vaguely over her outfit. “This.”
“I couldn’t bear to cut up my dress, so I grabbed a tablecloth and asked around if people had any extra accessories. One guy had these extra teeth.” She gave him another grin. “Someone had makeup and baby powder. I picked up the rotting-flesh patches off the floor, and I made the crown from the meat section at the buffet. It’s nothing like my zombie costume at home, but I fit right in.”
“I’ve been waiting to introduce you to Bob. Are you okay to meet him like this? Zombie princess in a ham kebab crown doesn’t scream professional.”
She brushed off his jacket, now covered in makeup and powder. “I already met Bob. I challenged him to a beer funnel contest. Guess who won?”
“Not Bob.”
“Of course not Bob.” Zara laughed. “He was a good sport about it. Afterward, we had a chat and he said he’d never met a more relatable attorney. He autographed my arm and I gave him my card. He even asked for extra cards to give to his friends.”
“Well, that was . . . lucky.” He didn’t want to think about the good-looking celebrity drinking with Zara and touching her arm. Jay had planned to be there for the introduction. Celebrities were a horny bunch and it was his job to keep Zara safe.
“Luck had nothing to do with it. My beer funnel skills are unmatched.” She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for the invitation.”
He felt that kiss like a brand on his skin. How was he supposed to stay focused on his goal when she did things like that? How was he supposed to work when she looked so sexy in her bloodstained tablecloth? This wasn’t his path. She wasn’t his woman. Even if she didn’t find him a match, he’d upheld his part of the bargain and he could easily end this arrangement and move on with his life. “I have to get back to work,” he said abruptly.
“There’s lipstick on your cheek.” She rubbed his skin with a gentle brush of her thumb and pleasure spilled over him, freezing him in place.
“Is it gone?”
“No.” She bit the soft flesh of her lower lip and gave him a sultry smile. “Maybe I should kiss the other side and make it even.”
He jerked away, hands flying up in a warding gesture. If she came too close, if she touched him again, he would kiss her, powdered hair, greasy makeup, kebab crown and all.
“C’mon, Jay.” She gave him a rotted-teeth smile, lurching toward him on one red shoe. “I don’t bite.”
He took another step back, desperate to get away from her addictive warmth, her sunny smile, her sexy body, and her wicked laugh. His heel caught on something and he went down. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a zombie scream.
* * *
• • •
Parvati answered the phone with a breathless, “Hello?”
“If somebody falls and bangs his head on a cauldron full of Jell-O brains and loses consciousness for about five seconds, does he need to come to the hospital?” Zara glanced over at Jay, who was back at his post near the door. He didn’t seem to be affected by his minor accident other than it had made him more grumpy than usual. He’d barked at her to get away and then stormed off to the restroom to clean his suit. Five minutes later he was kicking zombies out of the party with a vengeance.