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I try my hardest not to recoil because I know she means no harm. But physical touch is something I need to pace myself with.
“Y’ve always stolen my breath away, Puck Kelly.”
My mouth parts as she stands on her toes to kiss my cheek, before leaving me alone, wondering what the fuck I just agreed to.
Whistling, I bend low to look out the windscreen as Darcy drives toward a grand mansion. This private country estate has a Gothic vibe, adding to the mystery this night holds. The gardens are vast, and there is no denying this estate’s beauty.
A valet gestures he will park the car. No expense is spared, it seems.
As I exit the car, I button up my black tuxedo jacket, peering at the huge mansion. Darcy slips into her gold high heels—she couldn’t drive with them on—which complement her ball gown. She smiles shyly.
I offer her my arm, which she accepts, and we make our way inside.
Music sounds from a string quartet, playing softly in the corner of the room. The entrance is filled with people who talk animatedly among themselves. There’s no indication of what we’re celebrating, but it’s a grand affair judging from the fancy dresses.
A waiter offers us champagne. I take two glasses.
“I’m glad I polished my shoes,” I tease, offering a glass to her. I’m also thankful I’m now clean-shaven as I would have looked like a savage with the beard I was sporting.
She accepts with a laugh. “Let me show ya around.”
I don’t argue and follow her through the mansion since she’s clearly been here before. The staircase is marbled, and branches off into two directions. Darcy leads me to the left, which seems to be less populated than the right.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be up here,” I say when it’s evident that this upstairs area is off-limits to guests.
“Since when do you follow the rules, Punky?” Darcy says over her shoulder.
“Aye,” I reply with a shrug, curiosity getting the better of me.
Numerous doors branch off the long hallway, which has me guessing these are guest rooms. The expensive paintings hanging off the walls and the low-hanging crystal chandelier adds to the wealth this place exudes.
Darcy grins before softly opening a door to the left. She pokes her head inside and gestures I’m to follow. This can’t be good. When I step inside and see the pressed white linens and the four-poster bed, I realize I was right.
“Whose party is this?” I ask, watching as Darcy walks over to the large window overlooking the grounds.
But she doesn’t reply.
“This estate is part of my father’s portfolio,” she says instead. “When I was a little girl, I used to pretend this was my castle, and I was awaiting my prince’s return. That prince was you.”
I adjust my bow tie as it’s suddenly suffocating me.
She turns over her shoulder slowly and smiles. “Yer finally back.”
“I’m no prince, Darcy.”
“Yer right.” She saunters toward me, stopping a few inches away. “Yer far too good for that. Yer a king. So now, the question is, are ye looking for a queen?”
She waits for me to reply, a brazen smirk tugging at her red lips.
However, I never get the chance to reply.
“Punky?” Hannah gasps, pausing in the doorway when she sees Darcy and me together.
I, too, am surprised to see her here, but don’t have time to question it because Cian and Rory almost crash into her as they attempt to see what she’s gawking at. When they do, I know I shouldn’t be here.
“Don’t be mad,” Darcy whispers into my ear as she stands on her toes. “I brought you here because no one wants to tell you the truth, and you deserve to know.”
“Whose party is this?” I repeat, dangerously low.
