Page 136 of Dance of Devils

“Well,” I mutter. “Therewas.”

I knock the rest of the martini back in one swallow, grimacing.

Roman frowns. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he says gently. He rakes his fingers over his jaw again. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Like the girl I just caught parading around his house in sexy lingerie?” I snarl. “Nah, not particularly.”

Roman’s face darkens. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yup.”

He glowers. “Who the fuck is this guy, so I can go beat the shit out of him.”

I giggle, reaching across the table to pat his hand. “So chivalrous.”

“I’m serious, B. Fuck that guy. You’re a fucking catch, and he’s a damn idiot.” He sighs. “I’m gonna grab us another round.”

“Thanks, I think that’s an excellent idea.”

He ends up coming back with another martini for me, another whiskey for himself, and two shots of tequila.

I shake my head when he pushes one my way.

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “This is a necessary cure for lonely hearts. Drink up. Doctor’s orders.”

Fuck it. Why not.

We clink our glasses, sprinkle salt on our hands, shoot the tequilas, and then bite down on the limes.

“Fuck,” I groan, grimacing. “I just remember why I never do shots.”

Roman chuckles as he takes a swig of his whiskey.

“So, what about you?” I eye him.

“What about me?”

“You said this was the lonely-hearts club, plural. Why areyouin the club?”

“I’m not,” he says,fartoo quickly.

“Dotell,” I grin, leaning onto my elbows and fixing him with a curious look.

“It’s nothing, B.”

“Bullshit.” I narrow my eyes. “Spit it out—wait! Is this about that marriage your dad wants to arrange?”

Roman looks away. “New topic.”

Yeah, like that’s happening.

I gasp. “Oh, oh. Is it a prince and the commoner kind of thing? You're in love with a regular girl, but King Dad wants you to marry a mafia princess?”

He stares at me incredulously. “You watchwaytoo many movies.”

“What’s her name?”

He frowns. “The princess?”