I stiffen. ‘Eddie?—’
‘Relax, my sweet pea,’ he murmurs, leaning in as I want to dance with him. ‘People are watching.’
Of course they are.
‘I’m not your fucking sweet pea, Eddie.’
I catch sight of Roman, who stands to the side, Eliza’s hand firmly on his chest as she talks harshly into his ear.
I dance because causing a scene might upset my father. Eddie’s grip tightens, and I feel sick when he shudders against me.
‘You know this is inevitable,’ he says. ‘You can play at being difficult, but we both know where this ends.’
‘No, we don’t. You don’t even want me. You want what I represent. The company. My father’s business. It’s never been about me.’
Eddie steers me off the floor and through the sea of people and shoves me into a shadowed alcove. ‘It hasalwaysbeen you, Maggie. You can’t run from who you are.’
‘I willneverbe yours.’
He doesn’t seem to hear it.
The next moment is a blur of motion. Roman is there, all dangerous eyes and shoving hands. He pushes Eddie back hard enough that he stumbles, and before Ican process it, Roman’s fist connects with Eddie’s jaw with a sickening thwack.
The room seems to freeze, eyes turning to the spectacle.
I’d be lying if I said that seeing Roman hit Eddie didn’t give me a bit of a flutter in the nether regions.
Eddie straightens, wiping at his mouth, his eyes ice-cold. ‘You’ll regret that, you poxy English fuck.’
‘Touch her again.’ Roman’s voice shakes with rage. ‘And you won’t get the chance to threaten me.’
Eddie’s gaze flicks between us, then over our shoulders at the crowd. ‘Youdon’t belong here. She does.’
He turns and melts back into the crowd, throwing a final rage-fuelled look at Roman.
My hands are trembling.
‘My dad won’t throw him out. His family are too important. He won’t want to offend them.’
Roman looks at me with helpless frustration in his eyes. ‘Then what can I do?’
I swallow. ‘Grab some tequila. And dance with me until I’m too tired to think.’
The night blurs into ragged movement and noise. We dance until my feet ache and my head spins, until the world narrows to the solid press of his body. Angst gives way to hazy hedonism as our bloodstreams weigh heavily toward alcohol heavy.
As the night winds down, we end up in one of the quieter corridors, breathless and laughing far too loudly. He backs me gently into an alcove, eyes dark, voice low.
‘God, you’re something else, Maggie.’
‘If it weren’t for Eddie, it might have been close to a perfect night.’ I sigh, leaning heavily against the wall.
‘Let me help you forget that fucker,’ he says, dropping to his knees and looking up at me.
‘You don’t have to,’ I giggle as he tugs at the slit on my dress.
‘But what if I want to? What if I’m dying to taste you?’
‘You can do so much better than me.’ I sink my fingers into his hair and groan as he nips at my thighs.
