Page 18 of Stick to the Deal
“The glitter used to delight me. It felt like a portal to a world from my books. Too late, I learned shards of glass glitter just as well as diamonds.” His hand clenches into a fist on the thigh by me. “I’m sorry there wasn’t more you loved about this world.”
There’s something haunted about his eyes as he stares at the curtain. Touched that he let me see this facet of him, unsure if he even realizes it, I rest my hand on his and squeeze slightly. His hand unfurls and twists in mine, entwining our fingers as our eyes meet.
“I was a grieving child, Ren. It was always going to be a big adjustment.” I lean forward and he mirrors my motion, meeting me halfway. “Boarding school brought its own fun. As does access to top designers. It’s not all bad. The money has its perks, but it comes with…”
“Strings,” he finishes for me. His eyes are so clear in that moment, a swirl of hope and frustration passes through them. “Nic, I…”
“Come now, Reginald, are you going to hog the lady all night? You haven’t even introduced us properly.” My future brother-in-law claims his mother’s chair,grabbing my free hand in a farce of good manners. “Montague, but you can call me Monty, Nicolette. Might I say, beauty like yours is wasted on my brother.” His lips brush my knuckles, making my skin crawl.
I know Monty’s type a mile away. Entitled, spoiled snots who never worked a day in their life or heard the word no. He thinks he’s a gift to women and they should line up for the honor of sucking his dick.
Basically, exactly the sort I asked Reginald to weed out of my matches.
My lips tilt up in a sensual smile. It’s practiced, but he’s too dumb to see the artifice as his eyes darken with interest. “I don’t know about that, Mr. Bancroft. I find Reginald’s darker coloring more suited to my own. We make quite the pair, don’t we, darling?” The back of my hand glides over my chiffon skirts, removing any traces of Monty’s touch. My face and body shift closer to Reginald, effectively cutting his brother out.
Satisfaction burns in his eyes as he captures the hand I ripped from his brother’s clasp. Reginald’s thumb wipes over the offended spot, sending tingles rippling up my arm. He lifts the hand and my breath catches, inspiring a wolfish smile on his lips just before they brush my skin. The entire interaction is wholly different from the similar one mere moments ago.
“I trust your judgment, darling. You are the professional.”
“Professional?” Montague butts in.
“As a sought-after photographer, Nic’s eye for composition and color is unrivaled.” My eyes dip to his lips as he speaks, Monty all but forgotten beside me. Their mother slips back into the box as the lights dim for act three. Reginald’s fingers remain wrapped around mine.
On the stage, the ballroom scene plays out. The black swan enters and like the young prince of the tale, I have eyes only for her. The character Odile is painted as a villain, but I’ve always pitied her.
When your father is an evil, power-hungry sorcerer, what choices do you actually have in life? Better to just go with the flow.
The curtain sets again as the hero rushes off, realizing he proposed to the wrong girl.
“I’ve never liked this story. So depressing.” Monty leans back in his chair.
“I think the lot of them are stupid.” My eyes snap to Reginald as he speaks. “What idiot can’t tell his own supposed love apart from a stranger?”
“Well,” I start, “I think there was a magic spell involved. Plus, the black swan seduces him with her dance.”
Dark brows furl over Reginald’s eyes. “I don’t care if they were identical. If his feelings were so true, he should have known instantly that poor scared girl wasn’t Odette.”
“Scared girl?” Monty scoffs. “Odile is the original femme fatale, brother.”
“You don’t see Odile as the villain?” I ask Reginald, ignoring his brother.
“No, Rothbart is the only villain. Odile is another victim, denied a full life just like Odette but without even a Prince Charming for hope.”
I smile, his words so like my own thoughts.
“How well can you get to know someone in a day, though?” Monty shatters the moment, continuing as if our side-bar didn’t occur. “That should be the moral. Don’t marry a man you just met.”
Reginald stiffens, perhaps the remarks hitting a little too close to home with our own situation.
I squeeze his hand, still holding mine. “You’d be surprised. You can see an entire person in a moment if you really look.” Monty turns to his mother to start a conversation, and Reginald and I sit silently, smiling at each other until the final act begins.
Chapter 11
Mother Has Spoken
As the curtain rises, I try to view the ballet as Nic does. The movement, the symbolism. It is beautiful. The lovers dive into the lake together, preferring to forsake life as they know it rather than be apart.
Marrying someone you just met isn’t the folly. It’s giving them the power to destroy you.
