Page 10 of Forbidden Vows

Ugh, they’re both home.

The car drives off.

“You can do this,” I tell myself. “Come on.”

It feels like a walk of shame, but I manage to fish my keys out of my purse and slip through the service gate, giving one of the bodyguards a slight nod as I make my way up the stone path. “Morning,” I say and give him a wave.

Fuck, these heels are even worse the morning after. I damn near sprain my ankle, but I manage to reach the ground-floor hallway of the mansion without having to explain myself to the security staff. I stop by the kitchen door, catching a whiff of sausage and scrambled eggs. Voices trickle in from the breakfast room.

They’re both home. Just as I suspected. There’s no way I’ll make it upstairs before they storm out of the breakfast room to question me, so I might as well get it over with before the outside bodyguards reach my father on the phone, informing him I just got home.

I straighten my back and take my heels off.

“Where the hell have you been?” My father’s voice thunders across the room as I open the smoked glass door to let myself in.

“Good morning to you, too, Daddy,” I mutter, then give my stepsister a slight nod. “Morning, Ciara. Sorry I ran off last night. Doubt you missed me, though.”

Ronan Donovan coughs a few times, his face red with anger as he sits at the head of the table. Ciara raises an eyebrow at me, but says nothing, fork mindlessly wandering across her plate of French toast.

“Dammit, child, I had half our fleet out looking for you throughout the night!” my father snarls. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Well, I should apologize, first and foremost. My phone battery died and—”

He cuts me off. “Bullshit!” he yells, slamming his fist against the table for good measure, the plates, glasses and platters clattering from the aftershock. Ciara and I are both startled but not surprised. Ronan Donovan is renowned for his volcanic temper, especially when it comes to his daughters’ safety. We’re not scared of him, though. He’s never given us reason to be. “Where were you?”

“You left to get some fresh air,” Ciara says, annoyingly calm, “and then, nothing. Paddy couldn’t find you. The poor man is sick with worry, still out combing the city looking for you. Daddy, by the way, you should call him and let him know she’s safe.”

“I ran into an old friend,” I say, trying to keep myself cool in the face of what I know will be a blistering lecture. “We got to chatting, and next thing I know, we were at another club, downing shots and having the time of our lives.”

“And you didn’t think to call Ciara?” my father snaps, still boiling.

“My battery died.”

“It was rude and inconsiderate. I was worried.”

I roll my eyes, having a hard time with this mask I’m supposed to wear while we’re all in the same room. After last night, I guess I have grown tired of putting up with certain behaviors on my stepsister’s part.

“Oh, please, you were busy dancing and celebrating your engagement. I felt like I wasn’t the best company for that, so Idecided I was better off celebrating elsewhere. As you both can see, I’m safe and sound.”

“This sort of behavior is beyond shameful,” my father says. “You’re a Donovan, Eileen. Act like one.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“What more do you want me to say?” I snap. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. There was plenty of drinking involved. I made a mistake. It won’t happen again. There, happy?”

“Daddy, the tabloids will have a field day with this. It’ll ruin my engagement announcement,” Ciara whines, giving him the puppy dog eyes and the pout that usually get her whatever the hell she wants. “You need to do something about it,” she adds. “Get ahead of the press somehow.”

“Nobody snapped any photos of me,” I tell her. “You’re safe, Ciara. You don’t have to worry about any of that.”

She gives me a dirty look with her narrow, beady eyes. God, she looks so mean sometimes. “On second thought, Daddy, Eileen might be right. She’s not the interesting daughter, after all. The paparazzi were all too busy hounding me last night.”

“Ciara, honey, even if there were issues, I would fix them, you know that,” he gently tells her. “As for you, Missy, you’d better be freshened up and looking perfect in less than thirty minutes. Your fiancé is coming over to meet you.”

“Wait, what?”

It’s as if the sky has just fallen on me. My shoulders feel heavy. My knees feel weak. My stomach is growling.

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