My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(9)

“Unfortunately, it’s exactly what it looks like,” he countered, stepping deeper into the stage and scooping me by the elbow to join him.

What in tarnation was he doing?

“The secret is out, my love.”

His love? Me?

He made a show of wiping the hand that was between my legs just seconds ago on my designer dress. “Please, don’t call my Dallas a ruined woman. She merely yielded to temptation. As Oscar Wilde pointed out, it is naught but human.”

His eyes remained hard.

Dead on Daddy’s.

Naught but?

Why was he talking like a Downton Abbey extra? And why did he say I’m ruined?

“I should kill you.” My father, the great Shepherd Townsend, shouldered through bodies to reach the stage. “Correction—I will kill you.”

Cold white panic coursed through me. I really wasn’t sure if he was talking to me, to Romeo, or to both of us.

My fingertips were so frozen, I couldn’t even feel them. I shook like a leaf blowing in the autumn wind.

I’d really done it this time.

This was no longer about failing random courses, sassing off to someone whose opinion my parents sought, or not-so-accidentally eating Frankie’s birthday cake.

I downright and single-handedly ruined my family’s good reputation. Tarnished the Townsend name to rubbles of gossip and condemnation.

“Shep, is it?” Romeo un-pocketed the hand not wrapped around me and checked the Patek Philippe on his wrist.

“It’s Mr. Townsend to you,” Daddy ground out, now onstage with us. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I see we’ve reached the bargaining portion of the night.” Costa gave me a once-over, as if trying to decide how much he wanted to bid on me. “I know Chapel Falls has a you-break-it-you-buy-it policy in place when it comes to your maiden debutante daughters.”

His words thrashed against my skin, leaving angry red marks everywhere they touched.

Now that no one could hear us, he no longer pretended we were an item and spoke to Daddy like a businessman. “I’m willing to buy what I’ve broken.”

Why was he talking like I was a vase? And what on earth was he proposing, exactly?

“I’m not broken.” I shoved him, halfway toward feral. His hold on me only tensed in response. “And I’m not a product to be bought.”

“Zip it, Dallas.” Daddy’s breaths came out labored and heavy. Sweat like I’d never seen on him before raced down his temples. He inserted himself between us as if he couldn’t trust either of us not to launch into a fresh session of lovemaking. And finally, Romeo released me. “Now, I’m not sure what you’re proposing, Mr. Costa, but this was nothing but a few kisses on a drunken night—”

Romeo lifted his hand to stop him. “I know what your daughter’s pussy feels like, sir. Tastes like, too.” He licked the pad of his thumb, never breaking eye contact with Daddy. “You can try to talk your way out of this until you’re blue in the face. The world will buy my version. We both know it. Your daughter is mine. All you can do now is negotiate a decent deal out of it.”

“What’s going on over there?” Barbara stood in the crowd. “Is there a proposal?”

“There better be a proposal,” someone else warned.

“I didn’t even know they knew each other,” Emilie cried. “All she talked about was the dessert.”

Shame colored my face pink.

The only thing keeping me up on my feet was the deep-set knowledge that I’d never let this awful man win.

My anger was so poignant, so tangible, I tasted its sourness in my mouth. It coated every corner, dripping into my system like black poison.

Daddy lowered his voice, leveling Romeo with all the hatred he possessed. “I promised my daughter to Madison Licht.”

“Licht won’t touch her with a twenty-foot pole now.”

“He’ll understand.”

“Will he?” Romeo arched a brow. “Put aside the fact that his fiancée was caught with my fingers up her dress in front of her entire hometown, I’m sure you’re aware we’re bitter business rivals.”

Ladies and gentlemen, the man who apparently wants to marry me.

Safe to assume Edgar Allan Poe wasn’t churning in his grave, worrying about being knocked down from the Great Poet pedestal.

“Hey, now. This is my daughter, and I—”

“Gave her away to a well-off prick, who I’m sure is going to treat her like a piece of baroque furniture.” There was no mirth in Romeo’s voice. No victory, either. He delivered the news like a sulky Grecian god deciding on a mere mortal’s fate. “There is no difference between what I offer her and what Madison Licht brings to the table, other than the fact that I am soon to be worth twenty billion dollars, and his company isn’t even public yet.”

The entire weight of the world came crashing down on me when I understood two things:

1) Romeo Costa had known exactly who I was when he’d arrived at this ball. He sought me out. Lured me in. Made sure he had my attention. I was always his objective. After all, he’d said it himself—Madison Licht was his enemy, and he wanted to ruin things for him.

And 2) Romeo Costa was such a bastard, he would marry me despite making every single person involved in this union miserable, just to spite my fiancé.