My grin faltered. “I believe she’s taking her engagement to Hugh rather seriously.”
Ivy looked at me with a concerned expression. “And how are you feeling about that?”
Terrible. Shitty. Like my life is over.
“I have everything well in hand,” I said instead, twirling her so fast that her skirts billowed out around her legs. “I have a plan.” I didn’t mention that it was a terrible plan which essentially had no hope of working, because Julian would probably tell her that himself at some point, and also because Molly walked into the ballroom just then, and my world shrank down to a vision of gold and scarlet, silk and hair, and nothing else could exist.
“Go to her,” Ivy whispered in my ear. “Before Hugh does.”
It wasn’t very gallant to end my dance with Ivy early, but it was unthinkable not to go to Molly, and so I led Ivy off the floor as graciously as I could, and since Hugh was occupied in a dance with another woman, I strode over to Molly and took her hand without asking, tugging her onto the floor.
“Silas,” she said, her eyes darting around, looking for Hugh. “We can’t—”
“Even the strictest etiquettes allow for an engaged woman to dance, Molly, and this is hardly a house of etiquette. And besides, how can Hugh complain about us dancing while we are both in plain sight of him? We could hardly get away with anything with him so close.” I cinched an arm around her waist, pulling her body flush against mine while I leaned down to murmur in her ear. “Although, I’d like to try.”
“Silas…” her voice wavered, and there was that flush of red on her chest, like she was burning up from the inside. Blood went straight to my groin as I fantasized about pressing my body against her flaming skin, as I remembered how hot her ass
was, hot and tighter than the tightest fist.
We moved to the music, stepping easily around each other, moving in perfect time to the music. Molly was a fantastic dancer and I liked to think I was not so bad myself, and I could feel the eyes of the room following us as we moved. I knew we must cut a captivating picture—Molly and her gleaming gold skirts and her red curls piled high and spilling over one shoulder, me and my perfectly tailored tuxedo and my wide hands guiding Molly expertly through the steps.
Molly wouldn’t look at me, however, keeping her face turned to the side, exposing the delicate line of her jaw to me. I wanted to bite it.
“Silas,” she said as we danced. “Hugh has…he is…he’s threatened to take the company away from me.”
I kept perfect, easy rhythm and I didn’t let my face betray the sudden flare of fury I felt, but I let my voice carry my displeasure with this revelation. “Explain. Please.”
And she did—telling me about the contract, about Hugh’s ultimatum, his demand that her fidelity start now. It explained so much about her behavior tonight, so much more timid and passive than I was used to from her, and it also explained why Hugh seemed to be so singularly possessive at dinner.
“You can’t be thinking of signing this contract, Molly,” I told her. We spun and came back to center, my hand finding the small of her waist again. I heroically resisted the urge to play with the laces and buttons there.
“What choice do I have?” she asked impatiently. “If I refuse, I get nothing.”
“Legally, you would technically get nothing either way. What if you marry Hugh and he reneges on his verbal agreement with you to allow you access to the company? What if you end up with nothing and married to him?”
A small line appeared between her eyebrows. I wanted to bite that too. “Hugh wouldn’t do that,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
She didn’t answer right away, but when she did, her voice was so heartbreakingly tired. “What’s my alternative, Silas? Walk away from it all? This company that my father built, that I built?”
“Is it worth your future? Your happiness?”
“I don’t need to be happy,” she said firmly. “I just need O’Flaherty Shipping to keep running.”
I spoke with my lips close to her cheek, and she shivered as my breath skated over the delicate skin there. “Ask me for help, Mary Margaret. Ask me.”
“There’s nothing to be done.”
“There’s always something.”
She looked up at me, her blue eyes glittering in the light of the chandeliers. “Not this time.”
I hoped she was wrong. I hoped that my crazy plan would work, and I almost told her about it, right then and there. But it depended completely on secrecy, and I didn’t want Hugh to get even an inkling of what I was doing, and a change in Molly’s attitude towards everything might signal to him that something was off. Not to mention that I couldn’t bear to let her down—what if I told her and then I ended up failing?
No, silence was better for now. But I hated that defeated look on her face, the rigid way she held her body, as if already preparing for the onslaught of misery her choices would unleash upon her. I couldn’t comfort her the way I wanted, with my lips and my hands and my cock, not with Hugh here. But maybe I could comfort her with my words and say all the things I needed her to hear right now.
“Do you want to know why I fucked Mercy?” I asked.
