‘Connecting door?” she asked.
Distracted by his words, she didn’t consider her actions as she turned around. It was a mistake because Ronan’s eyes immediately moved from her face down over the rest of her body, clad only in the brief undergarments she wore. His eyes came to hers again, his pupils expanding as they stared at each other.
“Your room is next to mine. It’s customary to place the heir’s fiancée close by when they come to stay at the palace. While decorum requires separate rooms, our ancestors weren’t stupid enough to think that betrothed couples weren’t finding every chance they could to fuck, so they did what they could to minimize the chances of scandal when the couple snuck into each other’s rooms at night.”
Dominique refused to outwardly react to his words, but heat burst low in her pelvis at the idea of Ronan creeping into her room tonight and fucking her until she couldn’t move.
No. She wouldn’t do this to herself. She wasn’t even going to consider Ronan as a sexual partner. They didn’t even like each other. It would end in nothing but trouble.
She stepped to the side, skirting around him, and walked over to the bed. Tossing her shoes on the padded bench at the foot of the mattress, Dominique scooped up her dress and slipped it on. Before she could reach back to zip it, Ronan was there, his long fingers brushing hers aside.
Once the zipper was pulled up, he didn’t move away. He trailed a finger along the low back of her dress, tracing the vee shape. Goose bumps ran down her arms and legs. Mentally, she cursed her body’s reaction to him, but it was completely out of her control.
All her life, she’d worked hard to master her body and mind, to control the way she portrayed herself to the world. Yet here she was, coming undone at the touch of a single finger on her back.
She glanced at her gold watch. “We’re going to be late.”
His finger didn’t stop moving, dragging a line from the bottom of the vee up her spine to stop just between her shoulder blades. With her hair pinned up, the skin of her back suddenly felt very, very naked.
“Ronan,” she said.
“What?”
“We’re going to be late.”
He sighed, finally removing his finger from her back. “Are you ready?”
“I only need to put on my shoes.”
Dominique did her best to ignore his presence as she sat on the padded bench and slipped her feet into the nude stilettos shebrought. They were a series of slender, shimmering straps that very nearly matched her skin tone.
Her dress was a bright teal, the blue-green color bringing out the color of her eyes and the golden hues in her skin and hair. The tight bodice clung to her upper body, the deep vee in the back offset by another vee in the front. The shiny, snug fabric had a wide pleated waist and gave way to a filmy light skirt that floated around her legs. When she walked, the wrap-style skirt split and bared most of one thigh. Her only jewelry was the aquamarine engagement ring and a pair of dangle earrings, a single chain with a freshwater pearl attached to the end.
She didn’t bother to ask him if she looked okay because she knew he wouldn’t give her an honest answer. At least not at the moment.
Ronan was staring at her as though she’d screwed up his entire life.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“Yes.”
“Then, let’s go.”
CHAPTER NINE
Ronan couldn’t helphimself as he all but dragged Dominique with him to the main parlor. The quicker they got this evening over with, the better.
Every night, the members of court would meet there for a cocktail hour. It was a tradition Ronan disliked because its only purpose was to let the courtiers spread gossip, often the most malicious, salacious information that could be shared.
As soon as they walked in, all eyes turned to them. Dominique didn’t even pause. She slipped her arm around his waist, mirroring the hold he had on her. His parents were already there, as were several of the ranked nobles. Including his mother’s brother, his wife, and their adult sons. A few other noble retainers lingered nearby, all distantly related to his father or mother by blood or marriage.
Ronan introduced Dominique to his uncle, Cormac, and his wife, Elodie. Their sons, Braden and Desmond, were surprisingly polite to Dominique. He shouldn’t have been taken off guard. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also a fairy godmother and matchmaker. They were both of an age that their parents were pushing them to marry, and he knew neither of them wanted his aunt and uncle picking their potential spouse.They would want to stay on Dominique’s good side because then, they would have someone who could help them find a female they could at least tolerate.
They were all chatting, more politely and warmly than Ronan remembered ever doing, when a whirlwind in yellow came rushing through the door. She darted across the parlor, straight to Ronan, flinging herself into his arms as though she hadn’t just seen him a few hours before.
After a tight hug, she stepped back and turned toward Dominique, taking all of her in one sweep of her eyes. When she was done, she faced Ronan.
“I like her, brother,” she said.
