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CHAPTER7
the burden of responsibility
Silvan jerked Romy back and onto her knees. His lips found her neck, and then his teeth found flesh. She cried out until he cupped his hand over her mouth.
“Quiet,” he demanded. “Not one single sound. Nod if you understand.”
Romy obeyed but wondered what would happen if she didn’t. Would he punish her? Would he force her to comply?
His touch traveled from her neck and shoulders, arms, waist, then to her breasts, where he rolled a nipple exactly the way that drove her wild. “Thisis mine.”
Instinctively, Romy spread her legs as an invitation and reclined into Silvan’s lap.
“Andthisis mine,” he growled. With expert precision, his fingers parted her, finding her desire. Using lingering, soft circles, he took her higher and higher and higher…
Ahead, a man waited in the shadows, yet Romy could hear his whispers as if he was as close as Silvan. Then she felt his palm press into hers.
Bastian.
“Youare mine, Andromeda Delacroix. You’ve always been mine. And I am yours.”
A burst of pain spread over Romy’s shin, and she blinked rapidly, adjusting to the light and reality. Then she turned a deep shade of red. She wasn’t with Silvan or Bastian. She was with Dane and both their families at dinner. AtBrennan’s,no less. Awesome.
“Andromeda Alesia Delacroix? What’s going on?” her mother bellowed. “Can you hear me?”
Another sting to her shin. “Earth to Romy. Hey, weirdo, wake up!” Thora waved and stuck out her tongue.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Mortified, Romy covered her mouth. “I’m sorry for sayingshit.”
Cassia rolled her eyes and sighed in long-suffering exasperation. “I apologize for my daughter. I assure you she’s not always so crass and aloof.”
Dane’s mother, Rosemary Teche, pursed her lips into an uncomfortable half smile and set her napkin down.
“Come on, Mom, you know I sayshitall the time.” Dane patted his mother’s back and winked at Romy. His father, Percy, attempted to conceal a chuckle but was unsuccessful.
Rosemary’s eyes widened at her husband and son. “Dane, how rude! Both of you. Best foot forward, remember?”
“I think mylost-in-a-daydreamgranddaughter has blown that out of the water.” Daphne laughed to ease the mood. “How about a realistic foot forward? We’re all going to be family, right? Might as well let it all hang out.”
After a few seconds of lighthearted conversation, the group relaxed and turned their attention to the jazz band strolling past them.
“Thank you,” Romy mouthed to Dane, and he nodded in acceptance. Dane Teche. Her Chosen. He wasn’t bad looking at all. In fact, he was handsome in a bookish sort of way. His exceptional intelligence had already been established. But neither of those things would make him a good husband or friend.
What instantly set Dane Teche apart was his willingness to make a fool of himself so Romy wouldn’t be the only one embarrassed. And in Romy’s eyes, that was worth more than all the good looks and brilliant minds in the world.
An hourlater and finally rid of their families, Dane and Romy perused the Frenchman’s Art Bazaar. She paused to look at an abstract painting filled with shades of blue. “I think the artist is trying to convey exasperation in this one.”
“I see disappointment.” Dane pointed at a ridge of darker tones. “The fade into black screams ‘I’m pissed at the direction this is going.’”
“I can see that.” Romy glanced at the table and snickered when she read the description. “We were both wrong.Sapphire Bliss.”
“Ha… by a long shot, huh? We must be projecting our own feelings onto the painting, but I guess art’s about interpretation, isn’t it?” Dane nudged her shoulder.
“Totally.”
They regarded the artwork again, then resumed their stroll. “So… disappointment. What are you disappointed about?”
“What are you exasperated about?” he countered.
