My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(5)

Of course, I was down.

I tried to match his lackluster tone. “Actually, I think a glass would be a perfect companion to the shortbread.”

His face remained impassive and still.

Lord, what did it take to muster a smile out of the man?

I was faintly aware of people staring at us.

It occurred to me that Mr. Costa hadn’t danced with anyone other than me. It made me uneasy.

Savannah and Emilie had mentioned he wasn’t here for a match, but they’d also told me brown cows made chocolate milk when we were in preschool.

They were clearly an unreliable source of information.

I cleared my throat. “There is something you should know.” He peered at me through his English winter-grays, his expression telling me there couldn’t possibly be something I knew that he didn’t. “I’m engaged to be married, so if you’re looking to get to know me—”

“Knowing you is the least of my intentions.”

As he spoke, I noticed, for the first time, the tiny ball of gum crushed between his incisors.

Spearmint, by the scent of it.

“Thank God.” I relaxed into the waltz. “I don’t like turning people down. It’s a pet peeve, you know?”

I didn’t love the idea of marrying Madison Licht, but I didn’t hate it, either.

I’d known him all my life. As the only child of Daddy’s college roommate, he showed up during holidays and the occasional dinner party.

Everything about him was adequate.

Adequately attractive.

Adequately rich.

Adequately mannered.

He did, however, tolerate my brand of quirkiness. Plus, his eight extra years gave him the shine of a worldly, experienced man.

We’d gone on two dates, where he made it clear he’d let me live my life as I pleased. A rarity among arranged couples in Chapel Falls.

Romeo Costa stared at me like I was flaming poop at his doorstep he needed to stomp on.

“When’s the wedding?” His voice was mockery tightly wrapped in velvet.

“No idea. Probably when I graduate.”

“What are you studying?”

“English Lit at Emory.”

“When are you graduating?”

“Whenever I stop failing my semesters?”

A bitter smile touched his lips, as if he recognized it was supposed to entertain him. “How do you like it?”

“I don’t.”

“What do you like, other than shortbread?” He seemed to humor me just so I wouldn’t leave.

I had no idea why.

It didn’t look like he enjoyed my company all that much.

Still, I gave it some genuine thought, since I didn’t have to concentrate on getting my steps right. He did all the work for us.

“Books. Rain. Libraries. Driving alone at night with my favorite playlist in the background. Traveling—mainly for the food. But the historic stuff is decent, too.”

Chapel Falls knew me as the girl who spent her days upcycling Daddy’s money into luxury bags, frequenting fancy restaurants, and hunting down every decent novel in the Bible Belt.

It was a well-known fact that I possessed no worthy aspirations. But the gossip hadn’t gotten it all right.

I had one secret desire.

A clandestine wish that, unfortunately, demanded a man to fulfill.

More than anything, I wanted to be a mother.

It seemed so simple. So attainable. And yet, there were important steps required for such a goal, none of which I’d ever come close to achieving in stuffy Chapel Falls.

“You’re very candid.”

He didn’t say it like it was a good thing.

“You’re very curious.” I let him dip me, even when it brought us closer. “What do you like?” I asked after a beat, because it was the polite thing to do.

“Few things.” He spun us in swift circles, right past a slack-jawed Savannah. “Money. Power. War.”

“War?” I choked out.

“War,” he confirmed. “It’s a lucrative business. A steady one, too. There’s always a war going on in the world or countries gearing up for it. It’s extraordinary.”

“For the politicians, maybe. Not for the people suffering. The children soiling their beds from fear. The casualties, the families, the pain-stricken—”

“Are you always this taxing, or did you save this beauty-pageant speech especially for me?”

After being rendered speechless by his assholery, I answered, “All for you. Hope that makes you feel special.”

He snapped his gum.

So gentlemanly.

Not.

“Meet me in the rose garden in ten minutes.”

Everyone knew what happened in the rose garden.

I pursed my lips.

Was he not here for the last five minutes?

“I just told you I’m engaged to be married.”

“You aren’t married just yet.” He dipped me again while correcting the sequence of the sentence. Show off. “This is your last hurrah before you tie the knot. Your moment of weakness before it’s too late to try something new.”

“But…I don’t like you.”

“You don’t need to like me to let me make you feel good.”

Rearing my head back, I glared at him, my pupils running wild in their sockets. “What are you offering, exactly?”