Page 44 of Nathan

“Deep breath, Titch. You’re about to enter the lion’s den.”

She giggles. “I think that happened a few weeks ago.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Indeed, and I’ll definitely be taking a bite out of my prey later.”

We ride the elevator up to the penthouse. When the doors open into a foyer, Declan is there to greet us.

He beams and throws out his arms. “You made it.” Pulling me into a rough hug, he squeezes me for a split second, then claps me hard on the back. “And you must be Dex.” He briefly hugs her. “Come on in. Champagne’s on ice.”

“I’d rather have a beer,” I say while Dex elbows me in the ribs.

“Champagne sounds lovely,” she says politely.

“Stop being a sycophant,” I mutter under my breath. “You don’t even like champagne.”

“Stop being an ass,” she hisses, tugging her hand from mine.

“Beer it is, then.” Declan spins on his heel. “Everyone’s inside. They can’t wait to see you.”

Dex trots after Declan, leaving me lagging behind. “Thank you so much for letting me come to your wedding.”

“Any friend of Nate’s is welcome here,” he says.

“And so it begins,” I mutter uncharitably.

Dex glances over her shoulder, a wide-eyed glare getting her message across perfectly.

I roll my eyes, grit my teeth, and prepare myself for the longest few days of my life.

Chapter 19

Dex

I glance around as Declan leads me through an enormous open-plan living space that would fit my entire apartment inside at least ten times over. Probably more. Floor-to-ceiling windows give a magnificent view of Manhattan, but I’m too conscious of the five pairs of eyes that swivel my way to stare at it for too long.

Three women and two guys lock their gazes onto me, gawping as if I’m an exhibit in a zoo. It takes a moment for me to realize the two guys are twins—identical twins—and I do a double-take, my mouth dropping open a couple of inches. Eventually, I blink and force my jaw shut, hopefully before anyone notices.

One of the women gets up and comes toward us with a brilliant smile. “You must be Dex.” She clasps me by the shoulders and kisses my cheek. “I’m Indie, Declan’s fiancée. We’re thrilled you could be here for our wedding.”

The other four people all rise to their feet and are now making their way over. I shuffle from foot to foot, unused to this amount of interest. I’m a fly-under-the-radar kind of girl rather than a center-of-attention one.

“I’m Callum,” the first guy says, also kissing my cheek. “This is Laurella.” He tugs a dark-haired, olive-skinned beauty to his side, as if he can’t bear not to touch her.

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” Laurella says, a European accent shining through that I can’t quite place. I make a mental note to ask Nate later as it seems rude to ask Laurella where she’s from.

Callum’s mirror image follows on behind. “I’m Ciaran, and this is my girlfriend, Millie. And over there”—he points to a bassinet I hadn’t spotted until now—“is our little girl, Aimee.”

The pride in Ciaran’s voice, and the way he gazes adoringly at Millie, has envy curling in my belly. I have no doubt Nate is attracted to me. The amount of sex we have is testament to that. But Ciaran looks at his girlfriend as though walking over hot coals wouldn’t be enough of a sacrifice to prove his devotion and love.

“It’s so great to meet you all.”

“You won’t think that in a couple days,” Nate grumbles, appearing from the foyer, towing our suitcases behind him.

I watch in fascination as the faces of Nate’s brothers light up, and he’s enveloped into the bosom of his family. Even the girlfriends join in with the group hug. It reminds me of a rugby game I saw on TV once where all the players piled on top of one another. It makes me frown in confusion. Why would he not want this? There’s so much love for him in this room, I almost feel like a voyeur, stealing a private moment that isn’t mine to share in. Yet he freely admits he doesn’t like coming home. I don’t get it.

Eventually he muscles his way free and scuffs a hand over the top of his head, then straightens his shirt as his eyes cut to mine.

“Sit down, Titch.”

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