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Aidan let Declan lead him over to the couple he’d been speaking with a moment before. The man was stocky, with hair going gray at the temples and a close-cropped beard to match. Aidan had several inches on him, but something about his future father-in-law told Aidan the man could hold his own in a fight.
“This is Adrian Falcone and his wife, Julia.”
“Nice to finally meet you,” Aidan said, his voice clipped.
“And you. Finally,” Julia said with a tight smile, sipping her glass of wine when Falcone slid her a look.
Declan’s smile was easy, but Aidan knew his brother’s temper flared at Julia’s disapproving comment in the tightening of his grip as he turned them toward the next group. Brogan was speaking to Falcone’s two oldest sons and, as Aidan suspected, their wives. Leo, the heir apparent now that Falcone was in charge, was married to Marie, and Gavin, the second son, was married to Zara. If someone started reciting names of offspring, Aidan was going to scream.
Before Declan could haul him off and introduce him to the last group and his future wife, a waiter stepped into the room to announce that dinner was ready to be served. Aidan breathed a sigh of relief at the small moment of reprieve. Suddenly the room felt constricting, the sweater itchy.
They pivoted toward the table, and as Aidan approached, he noticed tented cards with names on them. Assigned seating. Wonderful. He found his in the middle of the long table, Brogan to his left and…Vivian to his right. He could only assume that was her. He’d never thought to ask her name.
Refusing to look around for her, he dropped into his chair and set his glass above his plate. When the brown-haired woman sank into the seat across the table from him, he frowned.
Not Vivian, then. Or they’d been placed across the table from each other so he couldn’t say anything stupid. But then the man he’d seen with his arm around her shoulders leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, making her smile. If that wasn’t her, then where the hell was she?
He felt movement to his right moments before she lowered herself gracefully into the chair. Her hair was long and black, and she wore it loose so it cascaded down her back and over her arms nearly to her waist. It took her a beat, but she finally turned to face him, dark brown eyes carefully meeting his gaze and wandering over his face before she smiled.
“You must be Aidan.”
“I must be.” When she extended her hand, he took it, squeezing it gently before letting it drop and ignoring the heat that singed his fingers. “And you’re Vivian.”
“Viv,” she corrected, leaning back as the wait staff set a salad in front of her. “The only person who called me Vivian was my grandmother. Or my mother when she’s angry at me.”
“Viv, then,” he agreed with a nod.
“You look positively thrilled to be here,” she added, spearing a bite of arugula with a grin, and he grunted. “Can’t imagine why.”
Someone called her name, and she looked toward the sound. His first thought was how annoyingly beautiful she was. If Declan was going to saddle him with a marriage he didn’t want, he could have at least had the decency to do it with someone far less appealing.
She laughed at something someone said, and the sound tugged at something foreign inside him. He imagined having her underneath of him, pounding her until her breathy laughs faded into breathy moans. Well, at least fucking her wouldn’t be a hardship.
She ignored him with a practiced skill through the salad course and most of the soup course. He couldn’t fathom why that irritated him so much. It felt like she was grappling with the upper hand, waiting for him to break and speak first. Then she threw him off guard and turned to ask him a question.
“How long have you known?”
He waited until the staff cleared their soup bowls before turning to her. Her brown eyes were curious, her mouth rounded into an expectant O. He made the mistake of dipping his gaze down to her lips.
She’d painted them a bold red, and they stood out against the faint champagne shimmer of her dress. He had the sudden urge to reach up and rub his thumb across her lower lip, so he reached for his scotch and took a long sip instead.
“About the engagement?" She nodded. “Roughly six hours. You?" he asked when her mouth dropped open.
“Jesus,” she breathed. “And I thought a week was bad.”
She tilted her head and studied him carefully as the next course was brought out. Some kind of pasta dish.
“Why did you say yes?”
Aidan hadn’t expected her to ask the question, and definitely not while surrounded by their family, but no one seemed to be paying them any mind. Except for Declan’s occasional glances to make sure Aidan was behaving himself.
“Not much of a choice,” he answered honestly.
Something like sympathy lit her eyes as she sipped from her wineglass. “Same. Well, we’ll make quite a pair.”
He didn’t get a chance to respond because Declan cleared his throat from the head of the table, and conversation stilled. Aidan wanted to tell her they wouldn’t make any kind of pair at all, but what was the point? She’d find out soon enough.
“Tonight marks a new beginning,” Declan began. “An agreement between families to move forward together with the bonds of marriage and the promise of children.”
