Page 20 of Forbidden Romeo

“Yes,” I say, stepping forward automatically before reconsidering. “Well, maybe not.”

“Maybe not?”

It’s like someone has put this woman in my path just to mess with me. She has the most distracting face; I can barely remember why I’m here. My money is on Graham’s ghost. Asshole.

“I’m looking for someone,” I reply finally.

The woman brightens at that. “Maybe I could help? I’m not part of the show, but I know a few people.”

“Great. Excellent,” I scramble to remember the right name. “I’m looking for Roisin?”

If I wasn’t staring so intently at her eyes, I might have missed the way they dimmed ever so slightly as she repeated the name. “Roisin?”

“Yes.”

The woman points past me back into the theater. “The cast has gone out for drinks already, but I can show you to her dressing table if you want to leave a gift or something.”

“She’s gone?” Damn it. I look back down the alley toward the busy street. “Any idea where they went for drinks?”

“Sorry, no,” the woman says brightly. The smile on her face doesn’t waver a fraction. “The show is on tomorrow, though, if you want to see her in person. Although I have to warn you, you might have some competition.”

I do a double take. “What?”

The woman looks me up and down. “Competition, you know, for Roisin? The last guy came with flowers.”

I blink at her before it clicks into place. “Right.”

“She’s not usually interested in fans, but… I imagine she’d make an exception for you,” she says casually.

I tilt my head at her, unable to resist a follow-up. “And why is that?”

The woman’s cheeks color again, and something inside me growls in satisfaction.

“You know, um…” She takes a second to recompose herself. “Comic book fans don’t usually look like you.”

“Well, I could say the same about you.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh… well….”

As I take a step closer to her, I tell myself it’s because this woman clearly knows Roisin, and she’s my best lead to finding her. I tell myself it would be a perfect opportunity to get to know the enemy before I strike. I tell myself I’m a professional and not going to get another opportunity like this.

But the problem is I want more of her. From the moment she touched my arm, my body has been begging for her to touch me again.

There is nothing professional about the way I corner her and lean an arm against the doorframe above her head.

“I’m not into actresses,” I say with a smirk. “I just represent a large family… organization that is interested in potentially moving her career somewhere more public.”

Her jaw drops. “Y-you’re an agent? I’m so sorry… I thought…”

“It’s okay,” I brush her off quickly. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Dinner plans can always be rearranged.”

She raises a perfect eyebrow at me. “Dinner? That’s… You’re quite sure of yourself.”

“I’m good at what I do.”

It’s a gamble, and I wrack my brain to figure out where we are and how I can pull a reservation out of thin air. But if it plants a seed that takes root… I could be one step closer to finding Roisin by the end of the night. Spending more time with this woman is just an added bonus.

“Which is what, convincing women to have dinner with you?”

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