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"I do respect my family, and I’ve been brought up in the ways of the Camorra. I know it’s my duty to make a good match for them, however—" I place my fingers on his shoulder. My pulse rate shoots up, but I ignore it. I may have agreed to my parent’s demands, but I’m never going to be someone who’ll take things lying down. I tip up my chin. "Just because I’m a blonde doesn’t mean I’m stupid."
His gaze narrows, then he laughs lightly. "You’re not as compliant as you come across, are you?"
"Nope." I half smile. OMG, thank god, he has a sense of humor. He’ll make Olivia a very good husband. A-n-d that’s the issue. It's clear there's something going on between the two of them, but even if there weren't, I can’t see this guy as my husband. I can’t. I can’t see anyone except the man whose name I will not permit myself to think of as my husband.
The hair on the back of my neck rises. I look up, and as if summoned from the depths of my subconscious, I meet a pair of azure blue eyes. The same eyes that have haunted my dreams and my waking moments and made me change my personality; change the trajectory of my life as punishment for what I allowed to happen to him. The same eyes I’ve seen on film posters in the city so I know he made good on his dream, which I knew he would, for I sensed that steely determination in him when we met.
His hair is shorter than when I met him, his jawline more pronounced. His cheekbones seem to have gotten more angular, if that's possible. There’s also a scar across the right side of his forehead. That wasn't there the last time I saw him. It's also not evident in the posters I’ve seen with him on them. Guess he must use make up to cover the worst of it.
How did he get it, though? Did that happen when my brother’s men beat him up? I clench my fingers together.
Not a day goes by when I don’t regret what I accused him of. At least now, I can tell him. I begin to rise to my feet, but Declan’s gaze narrows. His eyes widen in recognition, then harden until they become almost silver. Chips of ice that would jab me and freeze me. His jaw tightens. Even across the distance in the restaurant, I can feel the waves of hate that shimmer off of him. I swallow, and my butt hits the chair. Declan wraps his fingers around the wrist of the woman walking in front of him.He’s holding Olivia’s hand? He’s with my sister? No, no, no, this can’t be happening.
I track their approach toward the table, but when I glance at my sister, her gaze is locked with Massimo's. I turn my gaze on Declan to find he still hasn’t looked away from me. I swallow. Oh, god, this is not what I was expecting. Why did I agree to this dinner? They come to a halt in front of our table, and for a few seconds, no one speaks. The tension is so thick in the air, it presses down on my shoulders. The band around my chest tightens. A heavy weight sinks to the bottom of my stomach.
This is it; all my sins come home to roost. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to meet Declan again. What would I tell him? What would he say? Would I ever throw my arms about him and climb him like I wanted to that day? I never thought when I met him again, I’d be engaged and he… He’d be with my sister. Declan is engaged to Olivia, and oh, my god, is this the universe’s way of sticking it to me?
Is this my punishment for what I did to him? He could have been killed, but I was so worried about saving my own skin that I didn’t think about what could happen to him. And why does he look even more gorgeous, bigger, wider, taller? His shoulders look like they are going to burst out of his suit jacket, his biceps stretch the sleeves, and his pants cling to his powerful thighs like they were stitched using him as a live model.
He shifts his stance, and I glance up to find he’s smirking at me. His eyes though… They’re cold, hard, merciless. What happened to the man I met? That softness in him that had called out to me. That empathy I sensed in him when he assured me he’d never hurt me. That sensitivity that touched his features and declared that he was a romantic at heart. That…gentleness in his eyes with which he surveyed me like I was the most exquisite creation he’d ever seen.
The silence stretches, and my nerve endings chafe. My muscles are so tight, a headache begins to knock behind my eyes. Every part of my body feels like it’s so tightly wound up, I’m surely going to explode unless I do something to defuse the situation. Say something, anything. I jump up to my feet. "Livvy, you look beautiful," I burst out.
My sister’s face breaks into a smile. "And you look angelic." She moves around the table, takes me by the face and kisses me on both cheeks.
"This must be your sister," Declan says from behind her. That low, deep voice sends my pulse-rate sky high. My toes curl. No, no, no, I can’t have this reaction to him. Not when he’s my sister’s fiancé now. I risk a glance at him, and his lips curl. There’s a look of satisfaction on his features. Damn him, but he’s aware of exactly how much of a disadvantage I am at here. Did he know I was Olivia’s sister? Was he aware he would meet me when he agreed to this dinner?
Olivia takes a step back, and still holding my hand, turns to him. "This is my sister Solene. Solene, this is Declan, my—"
"You’re Declan Beauchamp, the movie star." I tip up my chin. He may have taken me by surprise, but damn, if I’m going to allow that to silence me. "Livvy, why didn’t you tell me your fiancé was someone famous?" I tug my hand out from her grasp and hold it in his direction.
It forces him to let go of his hold on her—good. He touches my hand, and sparks of electricity shoot up my arm. My stomach ties itself up in knots. Liquid heat shoots through my veins. Heat flushes my face, and I try to look away, I do, but it’s as if my gaze is locked with his.
Something sparks deep in his eyes. Those blue eyes of his turn indigo. The way they did that night when I realized he was attracted to me. He must feel the same sensations I do, for the tendons of his throat flex. He holds my gaze for a few seconds more, then one side of his mouth curls. He chuckles, as if it’s all one big joke, then bends and kisses my fingers. "At your service."
My blush intensifies. Declan straightens, an intense expression sparking in his eyes. The seconds stretch, then Olivia clears her throat. I blink. Declan’s jaw hardens. He releases my hand and turns to Massimo.
"You must be the lucky man," he growls.
Massimo ignores his proffered hand. "I still don’t see a ring." He directs the comment at Olivia. Huh? Did they already have a conversation about her engagement ring?
She nudges Declan, who raises a shoulder. "Uh, yeah, we don’t believe in a ring to be engaged," he murmurs.
Massimo’s gaze narrows. “I thought you said your ring was being resized?”
“Eh?” Declan blinks rapidly.
Olivia nudges him again, and he coughs. “That’s what I meant. The ring is being resized. But whether she’s wearing a ring or not is not the point. We don’t need it to proclaim the veracity of our love, do we now, darlin’?”
“Exactly what I meant, darling.” She wraps her hand around Declan’s bicep, then meets Massimo’s gaze. Massimo glances down at where she clutches at Declan. A muscle leaps at his jaw. A nerve throbs at his temple. He looks like a man on the verge of committing a crime. That’s how angry he is with the suggested intimacy between my sister and Declan. I sneak a sideways glance at Declan to find he’s glaring at me. Oh, hell, this is going to be interesting. Downright messy, I suspect.
Olivia gestures toward the chairs. "Let’s all sit down, shall we?"
* * *
"It’s you and me now, huh?" I glance toward Declan, then wish I hadn’t, for he’s glaring at me with a look that implies he’s really pissed off with me. Not that I blame him.
As the dinner progressed, Massimo and Olivia dropped all pretense that they were both engaged to someone else and had eyes and ears and words only for each other. This escalated until they had a conversation where they couldn’t stop taking digs at each other. Then Massimo excused himself, apparently, to go off and cool his temper, and Olivia rushed after him.
