Page 39 of Arranged Devotion
“I see you’ve found the highlight of the evening.”
I stiffen at the voice. A man appears at my elbow, tall and broad, and I catch a familiar smell: spicy, woodsy, a sharp undertone to the evening. Voices fade as I look at Liam sideways, my heart racing.
I knew he would be here, but seeing him still makes me clench.
“I’m trying to decide if I like it.”
He seems to consider hard. “I think it’s incredible. The harsh strokes, the vague impression of violence. My kind of work.”
“Are you bullshitting me right now?”
“Oh, these paintings are trash.” His grin is boyish and I almost forget that he’s ruining my life.
My father appears, striding up behind Liam, and stops at my elbow. “Ah, Regan, there you are. And Liam, I was just trying to find you two.” He frowns between us and I do my best to put on my polite, vapid smile, the look I give everyone at places like this.
“I take it this is your daughter?” Liam asks politely.
“Regan, meet your future husband, Liam Lankshear.” Even father has the good grace to look uncomfortable. It’s the most awkward I’ve ever felt in my whole life, but I do my best not to show any familiarity. It doesn’t matter if this man’s been between my legs—twice, for the love of all that’s fucked and holy, I did ittwice—I have to put on a show.
“Hello, Liam, it’s good to meet you.”
“Pleasure’s mine.”
We shake hands. He holds on for much too long before leaning in and chastely kissing my cheek. Dad watches, hisscowl deepening, and I fight back panic. I know that look: he’s unhappy with how this is going, probably because Liam’s being a stupid dipshit.
“I’m told you work in the construction business,” I say, desperate to spark even the emptiest conversation imaginable.
“You could say that, sure.” Liam raises his glass of dark brown liquor to his lips. “I like to tell people that I’m in logistics.”
“Liam’s an important member of the Whelan organization. Isn’t that right, Liam? Finn Whelan has nothing but good things to say about you.”
“Finn always was good at lying.” Liam keeps his eyes fixed on me with that godawful confident smile. “But for once in his life, he was being honest about your daughter.”
Dad clears his throat. “Ah, I hope Finn said only good things.”
“He said fantastic things.” Liam’s smile broadens. “It’s a strange situation we’re all in, but I’m hoping we’ll make the best of it. Right, Regan?”
“Of course.” I fight the urge to knee him in the dick.
His eyes roam down my body, right there in front of my dad. “Mr. Corrigan, would you mind if I took your daughter around to view the paintings? So we can get to know each other even better than?—“
“I’d love that,” I say quickly before Liam can finish his sentence. I shove my hand through his arm and lean into him roughly. Some of his drink spills.
The wrinkle between Dad’s eyes deepens, but he finally nods. “Yes, I suppose that would be appropriate.”
“Great! See you!” I steer Liam away before hissing under my breath, “We’re not supposed to know each other, you idiot.”
“What? Was I making it obvious?”
“Yes!”
“How? It’s not like I was describing the taste of your?—“
This time, I pinch his arm. He curses, flinching, but his eyes are deeply amused. “Stop it. Someone might hear.”
“Mmmm, lovely Regan, you aresucha fucking stick in the mud. How many iron rods do you have jammed in your ass? Oh wait, I bet you’ve never had anything in your ass before.”
“My ass is magnificent and it is pristine, thank you.”
