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“Are you okay?” said Marco, rubbing my shoulder.
I nodded.
“Who was that guy?” he asked sharply.
I stiffened. “An old friend of my dad’s, if you must know. Or am I not allowed to have any friends of my own?”
He did not look appeased. “Maybe I would prefer it if I was the only man in your life.”
I gave a cry of incredulous laughter. “Oh, please. Don’t pretend you are falling for your own charade. There’s no one here but us.”
He stroked a strand of my dark hair behind my ear, his eyes on my face.
“Very convincing,” I said huskily.
He kissed me, and my breath caught as his lips tenderly nuzzled mine. My God, why did the man have to be so good an actor? His kiss deepened, tasting me, becoming fierce. My knees were weak by the time he pulled away. I held on to the lapels of his jacket, feeling slightly shaky.
“What was the point of that?” I whispered. “There’s nobody here to see.”
“Did you make any progress?” he said, his voice suddenly all business-like.
I took a trembling breath. Shook my head to clear it. “I think so. Maybe. It’s hard to tell.”
His jaw tightened, and he looked displeased. “We need to make more of a scene. No one seems convinced that you really are my fiancée.”
I nodded. “Yep. Apparently, you’re not the marrying sort.”
His expression darkened. “It was a mistake to leave you alone. They know the only woman I would marry is one I can’t keep my hands off. Come, let’s give them a show.” He marched me back into the ballroom.
Chapter 18
MARCO
We danced, and I held Beth in a way that would leave no watching eyes in any doubt that she was my woman. My hands were possessive around her slender waist, almost rough even.
I had not been impressed watching her dance with that old fool, a friend of her father’s or not. That bastard had kissed her on the cheek. My every instinct had screamed at me to go over and rip her from his arms, and punch that smug smirk off his face.
Instead, I had forced myself to cross the room and ask Maya to dance. It was expected of me after all the time we had spent together at these public functions these past few months.
And I had no intention of ignoring and embarrassing Maya.
Maya had been all smiles, of course, archly asking me if I had finally decided to settle down, and hinting that her father was not best pleased with my public change of affections.
But Maya was a big girl. She knew it had been a game we had been playing all along. One with an uncertain end.
And holding her in my arms during our dance was nothing like holding Beth, whose every breath I was aware of beneath my fingertips. Whose body held a sublime quivering tension as my hands stroked up and down her back, careless of all the watching eyes.
After all, I wanted them to watch. I wanted them to think this was serious. Me and Beth. That I was a man she would confide all her secrets to, and that I would kill to avenge her dear dead friend.
I had every intention of frightening the bastard who had killed Dolly in my apartment. This was one of the largest gatherings in London this month of the types of men who frequented The Bordello Club. Even if he was not here tonight, he would hear our rumour soon enough.
He would know I was out to get him, and he would be forced to do something about it.
The bastard was proactive. He had already sent men after Beth to find out what she knew, so I knew he was running scared.
The men he had sent had put their hands on Beth. My hands tightened too much around her waist—making her inhale sharply—and I had to make an effort to unclench them. Those pieces of crap would get what was coming to them when I found them.
“Beth,” I murmured. She looked at me with those glimmering green eyes, the way I wanted her to, like a woman besotted.
