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“Forgive me. I meant the person who’s stood beside you for almost twenty years.”
“If you must,” I replied, noting his sarcasm.
“She’s terrified,” he replied, and I turned around, facing him. “I don’t care what she says. She has no idea who you are, and tonight you’ll be showing her off as your fiancée. Don’t be yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“Or be less of yourself as much as you possibly can.”
“You do realize it’s because of the fact that you’ve stood beside me for almost twenty years that I’m not taking your head off right now, correct?”
He nodded. “Which is why I’m going to keep talking. You have a tendency to come off…cold, daunting, and threatening. She isn’t the enemy…she’s family.”
“Are you done?”
“No, but I’m guessing that’s all I’ll be able to get in tonight.”
“So you do have a brain,” I said as I walked toward the door.
He, still using that brain of his, walked over as well, opening it and allowing me to walk out first. When I did, I could see the guards standing outside her door only a few paces down the hall.
Daunting and threatening, I thought as I moved toward them. Neither of those words were bad things. I actually preferred them. However, this situation hardly called for either. Only problem was I couldn’t change how people perceived me.
Reaching up and knocking, which made little sense seeing as how I knew she was dressed and it was my damn house, I waited until she spoke.
“Come in.”
Turning the knob and stepping inside, I expected to see her waiting. However, she wasn’t inside the room.
“Out here,” she called from the balcony.
Following her voice, I headed toward the double doors, standing right where the door met the balcony, and where she sat on the railing, her blond hair brushed over her shoulder. Dressed in an emerald gown that hung off her shoulders and had a slit that went mid-thigh, I couldn’t help but look from there down her smooth legs to her bare feet. She was stunning…as she should be.
“Ethan Callahan,” she said, almost whispered.
“Ivy O’Davoren,” I replied, leaning against the frame.
She nodded. “I’m guessing you know a lot about me.”
“A criminal record will do that.”
“True.” The corner of her lip turned up. “But unfair. I’m not an actual criminal as you all have shown me. But you all are…and I couldn’t get any information on you.”
“First, you will be wise not to call my family…this family… criminals.” I did my best not to come off as harsh as I would if it were anyone else. “And secondly, Ms. O’Davoren, you have the rest of your life to get information about me but an occasion to get to tonight.”
“It’s your party. It starts whenever you show up, and so I’m not late,” she shot back, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Unless you don’t want to talk to me?”
“I’m not much of a talker.”
“Which makes you bizarre…I’ve never met an Irishman who didn’t like to talk…especially about himself.”
Smirking, I reminded her, “I’m only half-Irish.”
“Have you ever met a quiet Italian?” Her eyebrow went up.
She had a point. “Very well. I’m bizarre. Anything else?”
She sighed, hopping off the railing and stepping into her heels. Dressed, she stood straighter. “How do I look? Your cousin put a lot of effort into making sure I looked beautiful for you.”
