My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(6)

“A reprieve from this mind-numbing event.”

Another spin.

More whiplash.

Or maybe it was from this conversation.

He kept his voice low and even. “Full discretion guaranteed. Ten minutes. I’ll bring the shortbread and champagne. All you need to bring is yourself. Actually…” He paused, giving me a onceover. “I wouldn’t mind if you left your personality at the table.”

With that, he broke off from me mid-dance, setting me down on the floor.

My mind reeled as I watched his back while he sauntered away. I didn’t understand what had just happened.

Had he offered me a hookup?

He seemed appalled by our conversation. But maybe that was just his default setting. Glacial, reserved, and offhanded.

Part of me reasoned I should take what he’d offered. Not go all the way, of course. I was saving my virginity. But a few fumbles in the dark wouldn’t hurt.

Not like Madison sat at home, working on our couple’s scrapbook.

I knew for a fact he went out all over D.C., enjoying brief affairs with models and socialites. My friend Hayleigh lived across the hall from him and told me about the women coming in and out of his condo.

I mean, we weren’t even together-together. We spoke on the phone once a month to “get to know each other,” per our parents’ request, but that was it.

A man like Romeo Costa was a once-in-a-lifetime event.

I should take advantage of it.

Of him.

And maybe he could teach me a few tricks. Something to impress Madison with.

Besides…shortbread.

As soon as Daddy turned to speak with Mr. Goldberg, I dashed toward the restroom. I white-knuckled the edge of the gold-specked limestone sink, blinking into the mirror.

It’s just a few kisses.

You’ve done this before with plenty of boys.

He was so new, so mature, so sophisticated, I didn’t even care that he was downright mean. Let’s get real here—Mr. Darcy wasn’t exactly swoon-worthy until the last twenty percent of the book.

“Nothing bad will happen,” I assured my reflection. “Nothing.”

Behind me, a toilet flushed.

Emilie escaped a booth, frowning as she settled beside me to wash her hands.

“Did you smoke the same thing that waiter gave your sister?” The back of her soapy hand rose to my forehead. “You’re talking to yourself.”

I dodged her touch. “Hey, Em, did you meet Romeo Costa?”

She shook her head, pouting. “He and von Bismarck are the main attractions. Always surrounded by herds of people. I couldn’t even get a picture of the guy. I saw you dancing with him. So lucky. I’d kill for the opportunity.”

A breathless, reckless laugh escaped me.

I shook my head.

“Where are you going?” she called after me.

To do something wild.





That this could be a mistake didn’t once occur to me as I waited, perched on the stone bench behind the rose bushes.

Summer’s warm breath clung to the crisp night, humid residue weighing down roses in full bloom.

Romeo Costa was three minutes and thirty-four seconds late.

Yet, somehow, I knew he’d come.

I bit my lip to stem my giggles. Adrenaline coursed through my veins.

When crunched leaves penetrated cricket chirps and hums from faraway cars, I straightened my spine. Romeo’s flawless features came into view, illuminated by the moon’s sleek blue shadow.

He was even more beautiful in pure darkness. Like he was in his natural habitat, playing on his home field.

True to his word, he held an open champagne bottle by its neck in one hand and a handful of shortbread squares tucked inside a napkin in the other.

“My precious!” I growled in a Gollum voice, extending my fingers.

He gave me the bored glare of a man used to fending off fangirls, before realizing I’d reached for the shortbread, not him.

I shoved an entire square into my mouth, tipped my head back, and groaned. “So good. I can practically taste London.”

“Surrey,” he corrected, staring at me as if I were a wild boar he needed to wrestle. “Do you enjoy the taste of ancient ruins and manure?”

“Buzzkill.”

For a reason beyond my grasp, he seemed really unhappy about spending time with me, even though he’d initiated this meeting.

“Let’s go somewhere discreet.”

It was more of a demand than a suggestion.

“No one will find us here.” I waved a hand. “I’ve been attending this ball since I was sixteen. I know every nook and cranny in this place.”

He shook his head. “Some waiters come here for a smoke.”

Romeo must’ve not wanted to be seen with me just as much as I didn’t want to be seen with him. I was a provincial, silly girl to his billionaire-tycoon reputation.

I sighed, dusting shortbread crumbs onto the cobblestone. “Fine. But if you think I’m going to go all the way with you, you’re gravely mistaken.”

“I wouldn’t dare assume.” He punctuated the dark mutter with his back, starting for the other side of the courtyard.

It seemed like he was running away from me, not leading the way. I followed him nonetheless, munching on my third shortbread.