I pulled back and removed my hand from the heat between Delaney’s thighs.
“What the fuck?” she hissed, her voice quickly rising. “What the actual goddamn fuck, Ronan?”
I ignored her to stretch forward and knock on the black felt partition.
“We’re good to go, Benson!” I shouted.
I nestled comfortably into my seat as the car shifted smoothly forward before picking up Delaney’s to-go box with the half-eaten steak au poivre. I acted like I only just noticed that Delaney was still staring at me with absolute incredulity written on her delicate features.
“Oh,” I said, popping open the lid. “You want the correct answer?”
Delaney could only make a confused, strangled noise. I looked over at her and gave her a wink.
“You tease them first, love.”
Delaney’s hands clenched into fists and she shouted at the roof of the town car. I grinned before licking my lips and rubbing my hands together hungrily.
“Ah, there it is,” I said, looking down at my lap. “My fork!”
Delaney
Rain pitter-pattered on the glass dome of the greenhouse. I watched it fall through the foggy windows as I wiggled my toes on the edge of the white garden table. I had a warm wool blanket around my shoulders, a steaming cup of coffee balanced on the arm rest, and a massive bowl of Lucky Charms in my lap. It was the perfect quiet morning until Ronan arrived, startling me with a loud “Cheerio, love!”, knocking my feet off the edge of the table, and stealing my bowl of cereal.
In the chaos I knocked over my cup of coffee, jumping up with a shriek as it spilled all over my pyjamas. My blanket tumbled off my shoulders and Ronan swept it up to lay over his arm. I stared at him with livid eyes as he moved to arrange the blanket comfortably on his own chair opposite mine, plop down with his own feet propped up on the table, and then dig his spoon into my Lucky Charms.
“Um, ex-fucking-cuse me?” I barked, holding my hands out at my sides as coffee dripped off my silk button-down.
“This morning I will be teaching you how a proper lady eats breakfast,” Ronan explained, pushing my spoon around the bowl and then frowning. “Hey, did you pick out all the marshmallows?”
I was about to curse him out some more when I realised…there was something different about him. I stared closer. It was only a little after eight and yet here he was, first of all, awake, but second of all, showered, groomed, and clothed. I eyed with growing suspicion his combed-back hair, his shaved jawline, his clear eyes, and his sharp, dark green suit paired with velvet smoking slippers.
“You don’t smell like tequila,” I said, my voice wary and unsure. “Did all of Dublin run out or something?”
Ronan was still examining my Lucky Charms.
“Really, Delaney, even plumbers know you never pick out the marshmallows. It’s simply not done,” he said, frowning irritably. “And you intend on becoming a lady in high society?”
“There’s colour in your skin,” I noted, squinting as I leaned forward for a better look. “Didn’t get your fill of prostitutes’ blood last night, Count?”
Ronan shook his head in disgust. “I’m a billionaire and I’m expected to just eat these little brown bits with no marshmallows?” he asked, lifting a spoonful high and pouting at it. “What’s the point of being super rich if this is the life I’m cursed to live?”
“Your buttons are even buttoned correctly,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “Are you… are you… sober?”
Before I could get an answer from Ronan, the door to the greenhouse opened once more. Benson came in rolling a silver tray and holding a garment bag.
“Ah, there you are, Benson,” Ronan said, shoving away the bowl of Lucky Charms and hopping energetically to his feet. “Impeccable timing as always.”
I stared at the fine china tea pot and matching teacup with disdain. I was a “cheap gas station coffee in an extra-large Styrofoam cup” kind of gal; Earl Grey to me was just slightly dirty water. Things didn’t get much better when Benson lifted the metal serving cover to reveal a plate of grapes, a slice of melon, a hardboiled egg in a stupid little holder, and a scone smaller than my asshole.
“What is that?” I asked, physically stepping away from it as Benson moved it to the garden table.
“A proper lady’s breakfast,” Ronan announced merrily.
“Ugh.”
Ronan unloaded the garment bag off Benson’s shoulder and unzipped it for me to see. I blanched at the floral print of a knee-length dress that looked like the fabric of an antique couch my great-great-grandmother would have protected with plastic.
“What is that?”
“A proper lady’s dress,” Ronan said, pulling it out to extend toward me.
“You want me to put that on?” I asked with a burst of laughter.
Ronan shrugged. “I mean, your pyjamas are ruined anyway so…”
“So, what?” I snapped.
I crossed my arms defiantly only to press the wet, sticky silk against my stomach. I pulled them away with my cheeks burning sheepishly.
“You can change behind the palm,” Ronan said, nodding over my shoulder.
I glanced at Benson as I hesitantly took the dress.
Benson held up his hands. “This was not my idea, miss.”
He left the greenhouse. Ronan kept smiling at me with that stupid goddamn smile on his stupid goddamn face.
“You’re fucking with me,” I said, lifting the dress to look at it more closely.
“Nonsense,” Ronan replied, flopping back lazily into his chair. He waved his hand dismissively at me. “Now go get changed. We don’t have much time.”
I glanced over my shoulder on my way to the “changing palm” (oh, the glamorous lives of the rich and the famous).
“We don’t have much time?”
“We do not,” Ronan answered, plopping a grape from my plate into his mouth.
I spied him through the large dark-green fronds as I wiggled my coffee-drenched pyjama bottoms from my hips.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“Your trial run is in a week,” he said.
“My trial run?”
“The Solstice Ball.”
My top fell to the floor, leaving my breasts bare as I slipped the dress from its hanger.
“Don’t look,” I warned before tugging the dress against my naked body.
“There’s no need for me to peek, love,” he said with a bored sigh.
I laughed as I stumbled while stepping into the dress.
“Yeah?” I scoffed. “And why’s that?”
Ronan lifted his eyes to mine and the mischievous crook of his smile made me freeze while reaching back for the zipper.
“Because you’re going to show it to me all of your own accord.”
I glared across the greenhouse at him. “Bullshit.”
Ronan shrugged casually. “You will,” he said. “You want me.”
I shook my head and laughed casually but my fingers fumbled on the zipper at the small of my back. I couldn’t manage to pull it up; I couldn’t even manage to clutch it between my suddenly quivering fingertips.
“I do not want you,” I told him between grunts as I continued to struggle with the zipper.