Claimed by the Irish: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance (The Claimed and Beloved Duet Book 1) by Britt McKenna

Author:Britt McKenna [McKenna, Britt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Britt McKenna
Published: 2023-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Present Day

“Please don’t tell me you like that one. It makes you look like a cupcake.” Jane lounges on the cream-colored sofa behind me. I stand on a raised platform surrounded by a semi-circle of floor-to-ceiling mirrors, watching her expression twist with distaste as she takes in the latest wedding gown the bridal consultant put on me.

I press my lips together to muffle my chuckle, but the bridal consultant, Olga, is not amused. Her thin lips purse as she adjusts the ten-foot train behind me. “This gown is a Lori Chang original. Handcrafted. The lace overlay alone took over seventy-two hours to complete and a dozen more to attach so it falls just so,” she clips with an Eastern European accent. She stands and moves next to me, running her tiny hands over the ballgown skirt.

“It’s lovely,” I say, hoping to soften the woman’s harsh features. “But I was hoping for something less…” I bite my lip. What’s the word?

“Poofy?” Jane tosses out.

Olga’s eye twitches. “Of course. One moment, Miss Furnari. Let me go select a few other gowns.”

When she’s out of sight, I let my shoulders sag, and my head falls into my hands. I rub my tired eyes. We’ve been at this for over an hour. I’ve tried on six dresses and I didn’t like a single one. They were all beautiful in their own way, but none felt like me.

“Oof. Careful, Cat, or Olga there is going to lose it.”

I scoff a disbelieving laugh and lift my head, pinning Jane with a playful glare. “Excuse me. I believe you are the one who keeps openly insulting the dresses she selects.”

The petite brunette waves a dismissive hand. “Well, someone has to. I mean, you told her you wanted a sheath silhouette and all she brings you are these Cinderella ballgown knockoffs. And you’re too freaking nice to say anything.”

I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs my lips. “Lori Chang gowns are hardly knockoffs.”

“You know what I mean. It’s like Miss Kremlin over there doesn’t care what you want. Isn’t she a bridal consultant? What happened to the phrase the bride is always right?”

“Maybe Declan asked her to show me a specific style of gown?” Thinking of my dangerous, yet enticing, fiancé makes my stomach tighten.

Declan and I have barely spoken since the dinner at Torch—since he had my ex-boyfriend thrown out like some common interloper. It’s been over a month, but I can still hear his annoyingly sexy voice utter the words, “we are inevitable.” Like always, a shiver races down my spine when I remember the sensual timbre coating Declan’s words. I see his heated expression every time I close my eyes.

But despite the bold proclamation, my fiancé has gone out of his way to keep his distance. I won’t lie, it makes me angry. I’d confronted him about avoiding me during our dinner, and yet he is still doing the same thing. I don’t get it. I don’t get him.

The optimist in me wants to believe what he told me outside that storefront all those weeks ago was true.

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