Jonathan’s announcement stunned not only Quincy but Niamh as well. The fake smile on Quincy’s face froze for a moment.
“Well then, allow me to be the first to congratulate you, Mr. Thomas,” he said stiffly. He glanced at Niamh, who was now hissing at Jonathan under her breath.
“When did I agree to remarry you?”
Jonathan leaned in close, his lips near her ear. His magnetic voice was like a finger strumming her heartstrings. “I’m getting remarried. You can choose not to agree.”
“You!” Niamh shot him a glare, but he just narrowed his eyes, his smile a mix of cunning and sensuality.
Neither of them realized just how intimate their whispered conversation looked to outsiders. Standing right there, Quincy watched them flirt, his eyes growing colder and darker. A great beauty like Niamh, he thought, should belong to him. Whether they were remarrying or not, he was determined to get a taste of her.
While Quincy was fantasizing about how to get his hands on Niamh, Ramona was across the room, her hand gripping her wine glass so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t shatter. She, too, was watching them.
Ramona had never been one to believe in fate. Even if destiny had given Niamh a privileged birth, she had still been the unloved child of the Quinn family. Ramona believed that you had to fight for everything you wanted in life.
And yet…

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