3
“So tell me about Phantom.” The pizza had just arrived, and Kiera was already reaching for her first slice. Delicious smells wafted around them, promising a delightful meal. Conor tugged a slice onto his own plate, then blew on his fingers to cool them.
“Careful, it’s hot.” Kiera’s automatic warning came a moment too late.
“I noticed.” He grinned at her from across the small table, and took a long sip of his wine. “Worth it, though. This is the best pizza west of St. Louis.”
“You come here often?” Avoiding personal questions was a skill she’d honed into keen instinct, but she was even more a pro at turning the tables. “I’d think that would be tough, now that you’re so well known.”
Conor grimaced a little at her unwelcome reminder. “Liam—my personal assistant—usually picks up a pizza
