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“Do we have time?” I put my arms around him and kiss him.
He breathes against my neck. “That tight cunt of yours is ripening my stamina, so we might be late.”
“It’s our first event together.” I clear my throat. “Your brother was angry that you married me. I don’t want to get you into further trouble with him.”
Tossing my dress over his shoulder, he puts his other arm around me. “I like trouble.”
The minute we walk into The Orchid, a very high-end venue, I feel like the biggest idiot.
This is a black-tie event. I should have bought a floor-length gown. Not a cocktail dress. I tug my husband’s elbow. “Lachlan, you didn’t tell me I needed a gown.”
Unflinching in his black suit and burgundy dress shirt, when he should be in a tux, he says, “I didn’t know either.”
Swallowing, I pull him back. “I can’t go in like this. People will laugh at me.”
He narrows his eyes. “I’m pretty sure everyone in that room knows who I am. No one willdarelaugh at my wife.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, not to my face.”
“You’re a young, beautiful woman, Katya. Your dress is fine.”
I want to argue that he’s treating me like a child, but Lachlan O’Rourke isn’t a glamour-ball regular. “How often will we have to attend these things?”
“I have no idea.” He shrugs. “But after tonight, I’ll tell my brother—”
“Tell your brotherwhat?” Kieran appears from behind Lachlan.
My husband dwarfs most men, but Kieran stands only a couple of inches shorter than his younger brother. Dressed in a sharp, black tux, with his dark hair slicked back, he’s breathtakingly handsome.
“Where’s Isabella?” Lachlan asks, putting his arm around me.
“Ladies’ room with Priscilla. My sons are sitting on her bladder.” He gives me a pleasant once-over, then stares at his brother. “No tie?”
“I’m not a tie guy.” Lachlan brushes off his brother with a refreshing independence.
When Kieran looks me over again, I say, “I’ll help Isabella tonight, too.”
And hide in one of the stalls.
“Thank you. She’s looking forward to seeing you.” As if he has eyes behind his head, Kieran turns around.
Isabella elegantly glides toward us, dressed in what looks like a wedding gown of jeweled white satin with sheer cap sleeves that sit off her olive-skin shoulders. The empire waist displays her visibly pregnant stomach right under a belt of Swarovski crystals.
Wow.
I’d met her before at the private swim club our fathers belonged to. She was always petite, and now she’s carrying two sons of a man just as tall as my husband.
I tug my own stomach, wondering what carrying Lachlan’s child would do to my body if we take things that far. Ballerinas are supposed to be lithe and graceful. Code for ultra-thin. Would I recover my shape enough to dance again? Casting agents are brutal, carrying scales and measuring tapes around.
I dismiss all that and relax, because my marriage is temporary. I think. Lachlan said we’d take it one day at a time. It seems to depend on me. Whether I get picked to attend the conservatory.
Staring at Lachlan’s family, my heart flutters at the lonely life I’ve led. And the one I’ll live after this, if I go to London.
“Katriane,” Lachlan saying my full name snaps me out of my head. “Isabella said hello to you.”
“I’m so sorry.” I hold my chest, and something makes me kiss her on the cheek. “Hello, it’s nice to see you again.” I exhale. “I’m sorry for your mother. And your father.” I lower my head. Goodness, she’s an orphan!
“Hello, Katya. And thank you.” Isabella sounds as nice as I remember. Her elegance astounds me. And she’s a queen. She’s my queen if Lachlan considers Kieran his king. “And thank you so much. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Here we are, sisters.” Her hand in mine, she gives it a squeeze that wrecks me.
