“Showing Zander how we party, Boston University style!”
Zander
“I think I could love this girl,” Zander said to Devon as he watched Megan sink another shot of beer pong, causing her to high-five Sam and do an adorable celebration dance that involved chest bumps and arse wiggling.
“Don’t let her hear ye say that, mate.”
“Why not? She rescued me from spending my night talking to stuffy old men and she’s organized a secret drinking game racket at my boring gala. Not to mention that she’s mopping the floor with us, mate,” Zander said chugging the cup of beer Megan had just eliminated with her impressive aim.
Devon chuckled. “Megs is the reigning Keller Hall champion.”
Zander gave Devon a blank look.
“Our university dorm,” he explained. “But ye can’t go throwing words like love around with Megs.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, Sam will kill ye if you don’t mean it and . . .” Devon scratched his head. “And love is grand, but it’s a big commitment, mate.”
“Maybe I’m ready for it,” Zander said, taking another swig of his beer.
Devon slapped him on the back. “Say that when yer sober and I’ll almost believe ye.”
Megan
“In your face!” Megan sang as she bounded over to Zander and Devon after sinking the winning shot of beer pong.
She still couldn’t quite believe she’d convinced the catering staff to sneak a few tables and beer pong supplies into the little alcove that had become their hideout. She could get used to having people do whatever she asked. And playing beer pong in crystal glasses was a whole new level of awesomeness.
As Megan glanced around their little underground beer pong circuit, she realized she wasn’t the only one who thought it was awesome. They’d attracted a small audience.
“I got next,” a man called from behind Zander.
Zander turned, looking startled but genuinely pleased to see him. “Ted, good to see you,” Zander said shaking the man’s hand.
“You too, Zander. What do you say?” Ted asked turning his attention to Megan, nodding to the beer pong table. “Rematch?”
“Oh no,” Zander replied pulling Megan to his side with a crooked grin. “I’m afraid this one’s all mine.”
Megan’s ovaries practically high-fived when she caught Zander’s smile. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to a smile like that being for her.
“I’ll play ye,” Devon said, shaking the man’s hand too.
Zander took the opportunity to slip out from behind the hidden alcove, towing Megan behind him.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“Oh just the CEO of BAE Systems.”
“Who?”
“They’re a huge defense company we’ve been wooing.”
“And their CEO just asked me to play beer pong?” Megan’s mouth dropped open. “Don’t you need to go back there and talk to him?”
Zander chuckled. “Nah, I’m gonna let Dev take this one. Besides he’s better at beer pong than I am.”
“But not better than me,” Megan gloated.
Zander squeezed her hand. “Which is precisely why I pulled ye outta there. I can’t have the Keller Hall champ beating the pants off my potential clients, now can I?”
“How’d you know about Keller Hall?” Megan asked, impressed.
Zander winked. “Don’t worry about it.”
God damn, even his wink was sexy. “Don’t worry,” Megan said. “Your pants are the only ones I’m trying to get off tonight.”
Zander barked a laugh. Megan liked that she could still shock him. Maybe Irish girls weren’t quite so brash. But just as she formed the thought, Megan heard the voice of the last woman she expected. And it belonged to the brashest woman she knew—Tabitha Hall.
Megan’s fairytale night shattered like panes of an evil queen’s mirror when she caught sight of Tabitha’s predatory grin.
“Zander, darling, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” Tabitha purred, slinking right up to Zander and cutting Megan out of his reach.
“Tab? What are ye doing here?” Zander asked looking utterly confused.
“What do you mean? I’m your date, darling.”
“Rita didn’t call ye?”
Tabitha made a sour face. “No, why would she?”
Zander looked uncomfortably between Megan and Tabitha.
Megan sighed and rolled her eyes, a bit annoyed she had to be the one to tell the leggy diva to take a hike.
“Because, I’m his date,” Megan said finding her voice.
Tabitha gave Megan her well-practiced degrading once-over. “And you are?”
“Megan Fields. We met at Finnegan’s.”
Tabitha looked down at Megan like she was an insect. “Right.” She turned back to Zander, her face changing from disgust to embarrassment. “How embarrassing. I feel like an utter fool. It’s not like you need two dates for your own party.”
Maybe Tabitha should switch to acting fulltime, because Zander seemed to be buying her act as he struggled to find words.
“No, he just needs the one,” Megan said stepping closer to Zander.
Tabitha flashed Megan a swift look that said she wanted to stab her eyes out, but instead she sighed. “Right, of course. But Zander, if we’re not at least photographed together tonight we’ll both have to answer to my agency tomorrow. Would you mind terribly?”
Zander grumbled something under his breath but then frowned apologetically at Megan. “Do you mind if Tabitha and I take a few photos?” he asked.
“No, not at all,” Megan lied, fighting the tiny pinch in her chest as Tabitha smiled triumphantly.
“We’ll be right back,” Tabitha sneered, taking Zander’s arm and leading him away.
Megan wanted to chuck her shoe at the back of the model’s perfect blonde head. Why did it have to be Tabitha Hall? It wasn’t a fair fight! The girl was like perfection incarnate. Her legs went on for miles in the black satin gown she wore. It fit her like someone had poured the fabric over her flawless curves in liquid form. And the hip-high slits in the dress parted like mercury with each graceful step she took, showing off her glorious assets to everyone at the party.
Megan cringed as she watched Tabitha drape herself on Zander while they posed for a lucky photographer. The flashbulbs attracted a flock of media and Tabitha preened like a proud peacock, leaning into Zander and laughing. Shockingly he played the part right along with her. He was better at being a celebrity than he gave himself credit for. The realization unsettled Megan, gnawing at her certainty that anything between her and Zander was real.
Her resolve cracked. Megan had truck loads of confidence, but everyone had their limits. Apparently Megan’s was watching Tabitha Hall drag her perfectly manicured claws all over Zander. Not wanting to subject herself to that level of torture, Megan excused herself to the refuge of the ladies’ room.
17
Megan
Megan had just finished giving herself a pep talk and was busy reapplying her lipstick when Tabitha slinked into the ladies’ room.
She grinned wickedly at Megan. “That dress is just darling,” she drawled sarcastically. “Did you make it yourself?”
“No,” Megan replied, determined not to let the model get to her. “But Zander likes it.”
Tabitha laughed. “Please . . . You can’t honestly think he’d want anything to do with you when he could have me?”
Megan’s confidence shattered as Tabitha voiced Megan’s fears. “I don’t really care what you think,” she shot back.
Tabitha slinked closer, towering over Megan. “You should.” She smiled, turning to the mirror to examine her flawless complexion. “Because while you were in here trying to tart yourself up, I was doing what I do best.”
“And what’s that?”
“Getting what I want.” Tabitha smirked. “In fact, I think I’ll get back to it.”
Tabitha started to
slink away and Megan called after her, her temper getting away from her. “You got Rita’s message, didn’t you?”
Tabitha paused. “Maybe. But does it really matter?” She shrugged. “Guys like Zander don’t end up with girls like you.”
Tabitha walked out of the ladies’ room leaving Megan alone and crushed, just as she’d planned. The sad thing was, Megan knew it was probably true. If she were writing this film script, she knew she was the underdog—the geeky nerd girl going up against the model.
But sometimes the underdogs win.
Megan reminded herself of every book and movie where the underdog was triumphant until she felt steady enough to return to the party. With one final glance in the mirror, Megan squared her shoulders. She knew she had a choice to make—either give up or put up. And Megan wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
She knew she had few options. She could tell Zander everything Tabitha just said to her in the ladies’ room, but Tabitha would deny it and then Megan would just look like a needy drama queen. Megan’s heart beat like a speed bag in her chest as she thought of another option. It was risky—but maybe some risks are worth it?
Zander
Zander was growing more anxious by the second as he scanned the ballroom for Megan. He didn’t see her anywhere. He’d even checked back with Sam and Devon but they hadn’t seen her either.
He’d lost Megan when he was posing for photos with Tabitha. He should’ve never agreed to it. His night was going so well until he’d run into Tabitha. But Megan was always so confident and honest with him. Zander thought she would’ve said something if it was a problem. Megan had to know it was just part of his job description, didn’t she?
‘But not when yer on a date, ye wanker,’ his conscience chided.
Zander blew out a breath of frustration. To make matters worse, Tabitha was headed back his way.
“Have ye seen my date?” Zander asked shirking Tabitha’s grasp as she tried to link arms with him.
“Right here,” she purred.
“Tab . . .” Zander grumbled losing patience.
“Oh, you mean the little girl in the pink Prom dress?” Tabitha asked, feigning innocence. “No, I haven’t.” She smirked. “Is she some sort of new charity project?”
Zander cut his eyes at Tabitha, biting back his simmering temper.
Tabitha took his silence as an invitation. She moved closer and slid her arm down his back, pressing her lips to his ear. “It’s getting kind of late. Do you want to get out of here?”
Zander put his hand on her hip to keep her at bay. “What I want, is to find my date,” he growled.
“I’m right here,” Megan said striding up to them.
Zander froze realizing he and Tabitha looked rather scandalous in their current position. He started to sputter an explanation, but Megan didn’t let him get a word out. She strode directly up to him and shoved Tabitha out of the way before mashing her lips into Zander’s in an aggressive kiss.
The shock of Megan’s unexpected kiss made Zander stumble back. He wrapped his arms around her to regain his balance. She’d caught him completely off guard with the move, but the flash of a camera brought him back to the present.
Zander quickly broke their kiss and steadied Megan back to her feet. Another camera flash pushed him into action. He grabbed Megan’s hand and dragged her away from the media crowd that was forming.
Megan
Shit! So maybe Megan had been wrong to go with her risky plan. Because from the ticking muscles in Zander’s jaw, he was anything but pleased by her bold move. He gripped her hand firmly as he tugged her through the party.
“Zander,” Megan panted trying to keep up with his brisk pace in her heels. “Zander, I’m sorry.”
But he didn’t stop. He kept going until he pulled them through a heavy door that slammed shut with a foreboding finality.
Double shit! There was a wildness in Zander’s emerald eyes that Megan had never seen before. She was about to apologize again when Zander’s lips collided with hers. His powerful body pushed hers against the cold stone wall behind her, his tongue caressing hers in hungry waves. Megan gasped as Zander’s fingers traveled roughly down her body until he was hoisting her up against him.
Megan gasped as his mouth claimed hers again. She’d never been kissed so possessively. It set her on fire as her lungs ached for air. She finally pulled away from him, panting as his mouth ravaged a path down her throat.
“So you’re not mad?” she asked, breathlessly.
“Mad?” he murmured absently as his lips traced her collarbone.
“That I kissed you in front of Tabitha?”
Zander stopped his trail of kisses and pinned Megan with a look that made her naughty bits liquefy. “I’m not mad. I just prefer not to have an audience of cameras in my face when my girl gets me bloody well turned on.”
My girl? Megan smirked. “Really?”
“Really,” he growled pressing his lips to hers softly. “I’ve never had a woman fight for me before.”
Megan laughed, finding that hard to believe. “You’re clearly not hanging out with the right women.”
“Clearly,” Zander said, devilishly.
“I thought you were pissed when you dragged me back here,” Megan admitted. “By the way, where are we?” she asked, looking around the dark, narrow hallway.
“Secret passage,” Zander teased.
“Hogwarts has nothing on this place,” she joked.
“I don’t know, I could do with a Room of Requirement right about now.”
“Oh yeah? And what do you require, Mr. O’Leary?”
“To have my way with ye, doll face,” he murmured before teasing her with another tantalizing kiss.
Screw a room. Megan was ready to tear her clothes off right in the damn hallway if Zander kept kissing her like that. “Where does this secret passage go?” she asked when his lips left hers.
“Anywhere ye want.”
“Your bedroom?”
Zander’s crooked grin lit his face. “It’s like ye can read my mind.”
Megan’s feet were back on the floor again and Zander took her hand.
“Come on,” he said tugging her after him.
Zander’s strides were too much for Megan to keep up with.
“Wait,” she protested.
“What?”
“I can’t run in these stupid heels.”
Zander paused only to hoist Megan over his shoulder in one fluid move. He gave her ass a smack and continued purposefully down the dark hall.
The cold breeze against her backside alerted Megan that she was most definitely flashing the world her tiny black thong. “Zander!” she yelped. “My skirt is rather short.”
“And yer knickers are rather sexy.”
Megan giggled, delighting in the dirty commentary Zander was plying her with as his hands steadily gripped her thighs. They rounded a corner and nearly collided with a caterer carrying a crate of champagne.
“Pardon us, mate,” Zander said sounding entirely too official for someone carrying a girl in a pink party dress over his shoulder.
Megan snorted and swiped a bottle of champagne from the open crate as she bobbed past. “Pardon us, mate,” she yelled in her over-the-top Irish accent. “Pardon my knickers, too!”
Zander smacked her ass, his deep laugh rumbling through Megan in a deliriously delightful way.
18
Megan
“So this is your room?” Megan asked breathlessly.
“Tis,” Zander replied placing her gently on his bed.
Megan sat on her feet, trying to right her strapless dress, which had turned sideways during her whirlwind journey atop Zander’s shoulders. They’d skulked through a maze of secret passageways to get back to Zander’s bedroom, and now that they were there, Megan could barely control her glee.
She watched Zander walk back to his door. His slid the lock home, its echo thrumming through her with the promise of pleasure. She swallowed hard, be
gging her lungs to take in enough air as Zander swaggered slowly toward her, undoing his belt buckle. He swiped the bottle of champagne from Megan and popped the cork, spraying a mist of sticky, sweet bubbly onto the bed.
She giggled. “Ah, it’s okay, handsome. Sometimes I have that effect on guys.”
“Minx,” he muttered giving her a smoldering look. He took a swig from the bottle, offering it to her when he was done but she shook her head. She was already love drunk just looking at him.
Zander placed the bottle on his nightstand and locked Megan with his gaze. “Come here.”
She couldn’t believe this was really going to happen. She was trembling by the time Zander reached for her. He pulled her to her knees and kissed her like he had in the hall—hard and deep. She tugged at his shirt, quickly undoing buttons until he shrugged out of it. The feel of his skin was like fire beneath her hands as she explored each ridge of his rippling muscles. He may not play soccer anymore, but his body hadn’t given up any ground. She couldn’t stop her fingers from caressing every fine inch of him, especially the patchwork of Celtic tattoos that started at his shoulders and wrapped around his back. He was a god swathed in ink.
Zander pulled her closer, tugging her dark hair free from its pins. His hand slipped through her thick black mane, fisting her locks to pull her head back just enough to give him access to her throat. His mouth moved down her neck in a flurry of hungry nips and kisses. His teeth grazed the swell of her breasts as his hands tore impatiently at her dress.
Megan’s hands flew to the zipper at her back. She wanted her dress off now—before she caught fire. The zipper slipped halfway down before snagging. Megan tugged desperately but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s stuck,” she whimpered.
Zander’s gaze met Megan’s and for a moment she felt she could drown in the darkness she saw in the endless pools of his emerald eyes. Then his hands were on her again. He gripped her dress on either side of the zipper and in one powerful move, tore it in half.
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