His latest girlfriend, a model, sashays up to him and I slide away, heart thumping.
What if…what if it was Declan who was jealous?
But I’m suddenly tangled in a lot of different conversations that stop me following that train of thought. And all through it, Declan watches me.
I try to find Leon, and though I catch glimpses, Declan gets in the way. He eats at my senses, my attention, even when I hear whispers from other dancers about how I don’t deserve this role.
They’re right. I don’t live to dance. I did, I guess, once, but not like this. Not trapped in the world of classical ballet. I don’t breathe that life, not like every other performer here. And to the rest of the company, it obviously shows.
My blood turns cold as I spot Mom handing the owner of the company an envelope. I know what’s coming. The whispers spread like wildfire even as he announces the year’s top lineup. Those who’ll never have to audition for a lead.
Topher, two others, and me.
This wildfire’s poison, and all I want to do is leave the party. I start to slink back and hit someone warm and smelling like whiskey, leather, and smoke.
“Going somewhere?”
“I want to leave,” I say to Declan as my mother talks into a mic at the front of the room. I ignore her and turn, getting trapped in those gorgeous ocean green eyes.
He smiles and I’m bound to him, unable and unwilling to step back. The dimple flirts with me and his stubble appeals. I want nothing more than to run a finger the wrong way up his chin, to then touch the thick softness of his dark hair. Maybe sample his lips and dip inside with my tongue.
I frown.
Was that my name?
His smile doesn’t slip, but he says in a low voice, “Just go with it and we’re out of here.”
Then he takes my hand, puts the bouquet in the other one, and people start whispering and applauding as he leads the way to the front of the room where another one of his brothers stands.
He draws me up against him. “Go with the flow, Molly girl, it’s showtime. If you nod and say yes, we’re out of here, I promise.”
“Yes?” I say, nodding, and he kisses me theatrically.
A bouquet is thrust into my hands, and I’m dragged up to the front of the room with him. I can see Mom’s friend Milo, whom I’ve met once and looks at me like future property and a piggy bank, even though he’s already rich. Mom would never befriend someone without a certain bankroll.
“She said yes, which, of course, she would,” Declan announces to a suddenly silent room. “And since Marlowe isn’t a girl who likes a fuss, the wedding will be short and sweet. Happening right now, with all of you.” The crowd oohs and ahhs at his revelation.
His brother takes over. “Welcome all. The bride doesn’t want gifts, so please, donate to the ballet company or your favorite charity.”
“Short and sweet there, Torin. Remember?” Declan says. “She’s in a hurry for the honeymoon.”
Laughter ripples andheat burns my skin.
“I’m here to bring Declan and Marlowe together in holy matrimony. Do you wish to marry her?”
“I do.”
His brother, Torin, sets his blue eyes on me. “And Marlowe, do you wish to marry Declan?”
For a moment, I can’t speak. I won’t pretend I never imagined a wedding day because I have, to different boys over the years, to movie stars and singers, but never, ever like this. And I don’t want to marry this cheating asshole, even if he’s so pretty it could break me, and his kisses and touch can melt me in moments. I take a deep breath to soothe the shock. It’s not real, and this is part of the spy game. Plus, he’ll help me find Daddy. I’ll hold him to that.
“I do.”
Declan slides his gaze to another brother who’s with a gorgeous, dark-haired woman. “The rings, Seamus.”
He digs in his pocket and comes up with two rings that look like they might have come from one of the cheap places near Times Square.
Seamus slaps them down, and as Declan takes one of my shaking hands and slides the ring on, Torin says, “By the powers of the State of New York, I pronounce you hitched.”
