22. Aurora
Chapter 22
Aurora
W e arrived three hours ago, and after situating me at our table with a stony-faced giant called Angelo, Romeo left me. He’s currently standing on the other side of the room, a handsome grin splitting his face as he talks to an older couple, who, I’m pretty sure, own the Mets.
I’ve stewed in my annoyance, drinking champagne and watching him like a stalker, unable to drag my eyes away. He hasn’t looked in my direction once . As the hours have ticked by, he’s moved around the room with a confidence most men lack, as a stiffness has crept into my neck and jaw with each passing minute.
It was na?ve of me to think he’d want to keep me by his side. I thought I looked good in my dress and I’d taken the makeup Maria bought me and used every skill in my arsenal to make myself look beautiful. And yet, he’s not spared me a single glance.
A woman in a gold dress, that probably cost more than my apartment, sidles up to him. She strokes her hand down his chest, leaning into his space. I wait for him to push her away, to take a step back, but he rests his hand on her lower back as he listens to whatever she’s whispering to him. Fury envelops me, and I throw my drink back, the bubbles hitting the back of my throat before the alcohol seeps into my system.
I thought these things were supposed to have food served at them. There hasn’t been a mention of dinner, and the sandwich I nibbled on earlier is the only food I’ve had since lunchtime. Drinking four glasses of champagne hasn’t helped to calm the jealousy coursing through my veins and it does little to ease the ache in my chest now as I watch him with her.
Standing on unsteady legs, my chair scrapes across the wooden floor as it pushes back. The loud, brash sound is drowned out by the tinkling chatter of guests milling around the room. My eyes are fixed on them, boring a hole into the place where his hand touches her. I feel Angelo step up behind me, and I roll my eyes. Right, mustn’t forget that I need to be chaperoned everywhere .
My strides are purposeful as I move across the room, my target in sight. It’s not until I’m in the middle of the dancefloor, bodies swaying to a classical song and blocking my view that I come to a stop. What am I thinking? Am I really about to storm over there and demand he pay attention to me? Like some jealous lover? Shaking my head, I divert toward the bathroom, needing a moment to gather my disoriented thoughts. I’m not his. I have no right to be feeling this… possessive of him.
A hand reaches out of the crowd, snagging hold of my wrist and forcing me to stop. I look down at the fingers loosely gripping me before lifting my eyes to a set of cold, familiar brown ones. Massimo lifts the corner of his mouth. It’s not really a smile, but more of a snarl, and when I try to pull my arm back, he tightens his hold enough for me to know he’s not letting me go.
What’s his problem? I want to be here less than I’m sure he wants me to be.
My eyes dart either side of him before returning his stare. Couples dance around us, oblivious to the cloud of hostility hovering above. “I was just going to the bathroom.”
He ignores me, pulling me into his arms and lifting my hand to his shoulder before picking up the other. “Dance with me. I have some questions for you.”
Exhaling loudly and with no other choice, I follow his lead. We sway to a pop song the string quartet plays, neither of us speaking. My eyes wander the room, searching for Romeo. There’s a burning sensation in my chest when I come up empty. Did he leave with her? My eyes sting when it dawns on me. Of course he did, and he’s using his cousin to distract me.
Dropping my eyes to Massimo’s chest, I murmur, “What did you want to know?”
There’s confidence in his voice when he replies, “I doubt you’ll give me the answer to my most pertinent question, but I have others.”
I cock a brow, silently telling him to just ask whatever it is he wants to know.
He brings us to stop in the middle of the floor. “Where is your father?”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh, taking a step back. Massimo tightens his grip and brings me flush with his body. The air is knocked out of me and I can’t hide my frustration and annoyance when I reply, “I’ve already told Romeo. I. Don’t. Know. Where. He. Is. And the quicker you get that through your thick skull, the better. Francesco won’t be coming for me.”
Massimo loosens his hold, keeping his narrowed eyes on me as he looks into my soul. “But you know something , right?”
My brows tug together, and I open my mouth to ask him what exactly he thinks that might be, but his body is ripped from mine as Romeo pulls him back with a growl. He stands between us, fisting the collar of Massimo’s tux jacket as he walks him back. Their faces are inches apart; Romeo’s screwed up in anger and Massimo’s relaxed and split into a grin.
“You might be my cousin, Massimo, but don’t ever touch what’s mine again,” Romeo hisses, his voice dangerously low.
His?
Couples within earshot turn to watch, their dances long forgotten in favor of the free entertainment. Heat fills my cheeks at the attention, and I stumble back, needing to distance myself. I turn and hurry from the room, uncaring whether my guard is following. With every step, I feel the eyes of everyone in the room on me. Why did he have to do that after practically ignoring me since we arrived? Maybe he doesn’t care how he makes me look.
In the quiet of the hallway, blood rushes in my ears, and I seek the sanctuary of the bathroom. The heady scent of roses and bergamot hits me when I push through the door. I’m vaguely aware of the opulence of the room before I rush into a cubicle, locking it behind me.
My breaths come in hushed, heaving pants, and I turn in small circles, unsure of what to do. The alcohol was a bad idea. Stopping to talk to Massimo was a bad idea. But not running from my apartment when I had the choice was probably the worst thing I’ve ever done.
Well, I’m not going back out there. If Romeo wants to talk to me, he can come and find me. I put the toilet seat down and drop onto it, holding my head in my hands and rubbing at my temples. Two toilets flush in quick succession on either side of me, the cubicle doors opening and falling closed with a dull thud.
The tap runs, and a feminine voice speaks. “Did you see the woman Romeo arrived with?”
My chest squeezes, and I sit up straighter before leaning forward to hear them. How many Romeos can there be at one gala?
Her friend must nod or something in acknowledgment because she continues, “It looks like Massimo wants her. He’s been watching her all night while you’ve kept Romeo busy.”
So that’s why he came over . She must have gone to the bathroom, and he finally decided to pay me some attention.
There’s a laugh on the other side of the door, and as I lean to the side, I can see a sliver of her through the gap in the door. She reapplies her red lipstick before pushing up her breasts and smoothing her hands over her curves. “As delectable as Massimo is, you’ve got to love a man in charge. I will say, let the best woman win. But I’d put my money on moi . He hasn’t paid her any attention all night.”
Oh, you want to turn this into a competition? Bring it on.
Yanking open the stall door, I keep my head held high when I march toward the basins. I roll my lips together to keep my smirk at bay when they both gasp in surprise, too slow to hide their reactions. Ignoring them, I rinse my hands before drying them on one of the warm towels and straightening my dress. Fussing with my hair, I meet their wide eyes in the mirror before sauntering from the room, calling, “Ladies.”
My body sags as soon as the door closes behind me, the bravado slipping as I leave what was supposed to be the safety of the bathroom. There’s nothing I dislike more than a woman who thinks it’s acceptable to steal another woman’s man. Even if he isn’t actually my man .
Angelo falls into step behind me. “Everything okay?”
I look over my shoulder, surprised that he’s actually spoken. His face lights up as he smiles at me before he clears his throat and drops his mask back in place. I didn’t think he had any vocal cords. He’s ignored any attempts I’ve made this evening to talk to him.
“Yes, everything’s fine, thanks.”
Angelo steps around me, holding the door to the main hall open. Movement in the corner of my eye draws my attention back to the bathroom door as the woman in the gold dress walks out, trailing behind her friend. She averts her gaze, her confidence from earlier apparently gone.
Good .
With my chin held high, I cross the threshold, an idea forming when I see Romeo. He’s seated at our table. A restless energy rolls off him, hitting me from across the other side of the room as I move my way around the edge, one eye on the door.
As if the gods are looking down on me, the crowd parts when the woman from the bathroom walks in. I move across the room toward Romeo. With every step, his heated gaze follows me and I add an extra sway to my hips. He remains seated, waiting for me as he swirls the liquid in his glass.
I’m confident that my plan will work because it’s a win-win. If my father is here and he sees what I’m about to do, well, there’ll be no mistaking that Romeo and I are together. And if he isn’t, then the woman in the gold dress gets to see me claim my man.
But he isn’t mine .
Romeo’s legs are wide when I reach the table, and I step between them like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do. He discards his glass on the table as I bend at the waist, running my fingers through the curled hairs at the back of his neck. His hands come up to rest on the backs of my thighs and I don’t think , I just do . Closing the distance between us, I brush my lips over his. Once, then twice, before I pull away, and his eyes search mine.
His fingers tighten a fraction and he brings one hand up to hold the back of my head as he claims my mouth and devours me. Desire pools in my core, and I grip the strands of his hair, needing more. Why can’t we be at home?
Romeo’s tongue demands entry to my mouth, and I give it up freely, tangling my own with his. He tugs me forward and I fall into his lap. His hands roam over my body before a loud cough breaks through the haze. We pull apart, our labored breaths mingling in the small space between us. Up close, his blue eyes are as dark as the deepest depths of the ocean, and I find myself wanting to dive back in and drown. It would be a blissful death.
Romeo’s hand smooths a path up my bare thigh and I fight against the urge to widen my legs for him. “Were you a little jealous, bellissima ?”
Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, I reply, “Not at all.” The vibration of his chuckle makes me smile before I catch myself and add, “You said yourself that everyone needs to believe that we’re together. It’s the only way my father will be lured out.”
And I had a point to prove.
He pulls back, searching my eyes. “Right, and it’s not because you didn’t like seeing me talk to Miss Wentworth?”
I straighten, half-heartedly wiping my lip gloss from his lips, unable to bring myself to look him in the eye. “No. I’ve got no reason to be jealous of you talking to anyone, especially when you aren’t mine. Just like I’m not yours.”
Romeo’s fingers dig into the flesh of my thigh, and he rests his forehead against mine as he growls, “Yes, you fucking are.”
A thrill races through me, and I bite down on my bottom lip.
Oh God, I’m in too deep.