Page 106 of Forbidden Romeo

Some of the girls don’t even attempt to hide the disgust on their faces when they hear my surname. I roll my eyes. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

“This has to be some kind of sick joke, right, Jacky?”

Jack lets out a dramatic sigh. “I wish it were. But Roisin here is just so in love with me; it’s been hard to shake her from my side.”

I turn to face him slowly. “Is that so?”

“It’s almost a bit desperate,” Jack continues without looking away from me. “I only proposed so she’d stop harassing me about it.”

The girls explode into fits of giggles as my mind runs through all twenty-three ways I could murder Jack with a stiletto.

“Truly,” I say when the laughter dies down. “The feelings I have for this man are… indescribable. Please, excuse me.” I yank my arm away from Jack and storm toward the bar.

The bar staff must see me approach, as there’s already a glass of champagne waiting for me when I arrive. I sip it slowly, letting the bubbles fizz out on my tongue. Trying to imagine my anger fizzing out with every mouthful.

“Well, aren’t you something?” a voice says beside me.

I turn to see a lanky man has sat himself beside me. He’s not wholly unattractive, but it’s hard not to feel revolted by a man who can’t take his eyes off my chest.

“Can I help you?” I say politely, trying to catch the eye of the barman in case there’s any trouble.

The man, however, finally looks up at me and offers his hand. “Lars O’Neil.”

“Roisin Maguire,” I reply, taking it.

“You know, the O’Neils were Maguires not too long ago,” Lars says conspiringly. “We’re practically on the same side of all this.”

Over Lars’ shoulder, I spy a flash of hazel eyes, intently watching our conversation. Oh,nowhe’s paying attention to me. Okay then. I knock back the rest of my drink.

“It’s always nice to find allies in a place like this,” I say sweetly, making sure to flutter my eyelashes a little too much. “Do you dance, Lars O’Neil?”

Lars seems to glow at the suggestion. “Has yourfiancenot shown you the ballroom yet?”

“No,” I reply tragically. “I was so looking forward to seeing it.”

Lars rises from his chair and offers me a ridiculous bow that I make sure to laugh too much at. “Then allow me the honor of escorting you, ma’am.”

Without so much as a glance Jack’s way, I take his hand eagerly and allow my new friend to escort me to the dance floor.

As the music picks up again, Lars begins to lead us through a basic waltz. We laugh together as I pretend to get used to the footwork, but Lars is at least a patient teacher, and soon I reward his work by moving as fluidly as the other dancers around us. All the while, I can practically feel Jack’s eyes burning into the back of my dress as Lars places a hand a little lower on my waist.

“It’s quite unusual,” Lars comments as we sway. “For a Maguire to marry a Duffy.”

“Truly, I hadn’t noticed,” I reply, my tone dripping in sarcasm he doesn’t pick up on.

“Very much so. In fact, I think you’d be much better off marrying someone more loyal to your family name,” Lars continues. His arm slides further down my waist.

I try not to panic. “Like who, exactly?”

“Well—”

“May I cut in?”

Lars staggers us to a halt, clearly frustrated, but pales instantly when he realizes the cause of the interruption.

Jack towers over us, looking twice as large as Lars in his tailored three-piece. The anger in his eyes is thinly veiled by his cool exterior.

“The song’s not over yet,” Lars replies weakly.

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