Spoiled princess… I fucking knew it.
CHAPTER 7
Ravenna
I’m not actually drunk, only a little tipsy from boozy drinks and a day of much needed relaxation. As soon as this ogre accused me of being drunk, I decided to play into it. He deserves to have to go to dinner with an intoxicated wife. Maybe I’ll accidentally spill my drink on him, or stab him with my steak knife. Oops.
I giggle, and he gives me the side-eye. Good. I hope he’s extremely uncomfortable right now trying to guess what’s going through my head.
What will she do? What will she say? Who is this girl?
Keep guessing, you overgrown man-child.
Okay, maybe my spa day wasn’t actually as relaxing as I hoped. Physically I feel great, but emotionally I’m still angry at this big brute—and at myself.
I shouldn’t be here. Being brave and stepping into my sister’s place was pure stupidity. There’s a reason my parents chose Elena for this arranged marriage and it’s not because she’s the older twin. It’s because she’s the one to keep the peace. I’m more likely to blow up this treaty by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. It was arrogant of me to think I could pull this off. That me marrying this man would be better than the alternative.
So,sostupid.
Plus, it’s not like I can up and change my personality overnight. Even trying to play nice with this Celt makes me want to scream. Why does he get to be an asshole and it’s fine, but when I stand up to him, I’m the one beingdifficult?
Yet, I don’t want him to send me home, so I have to find a way to endure. Or maybe we’ll just kill each other.
Until then, I take full responsibility that this was my idea and now I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future. For better or for worse, this is my life. I will teach myself to be softer, more charming, more agreeable. I swear it. I’m stubborn enough to pull this off.
Hopefully.
God give me strength.
Or an accident could also befall my husband. I wouldn’t mind cutting this marriage short.
“Why are you smiling? What are you thinking about?” he asks as we sit at our table, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Acts of God.”
He frowns. That expression, paired with his numerous facial scars, paints a dreadful picture. He’s so unapproachable. I wish I could sayunattractive, but I can’t. He’s no pretty boy, that’s for sure. But his raw masculinity has an undeniable appeal. Especially when those icy eyes melt with heat, and he bites down on his plump bottom lip. Dear God, he’s strikingly sexy.
I shake my head, dispelling those thoughts, and drink down half my water. That should help clear my head. Maybe I’m more intoxicated than I thought if I can’t even sit across a table from this man without admiring his appearance.
Would he be traditionally good looking without those scars? I squint, trying to imagine what he’d look like without them. Defined jawline, high cheekbones, striking pale blue eyes, andfull lips. Christ, he’s damn handsome. The realization has my stomach fluttering as warmth spreads beneath my skin.
Get ahold of yourself, Ravenna—Elena—whoever you are. Now I’m having an identity crisis on top of everything else. I don’t want to be attracted to this Irish brute.
The soup course arrives and we haven’t said more than a few words to each other, so I glance at him for inspiration. “I like your tie, that color brings out your eyes.”
Lame. Small talk has never been my forte.
Cian, as expected, glares at me like I just offended him.
“What?” I prompt, tapping my freshly manicured nails on the table. Gah, just one look from him and I’m irrationally annoyed.
“Don’t lie to me,” he grates out.
“It wasn’t a lie. That tie is the same blue color as your eyes and it looks nice.” I huff. “Can’t you just take a compliment?”
“No.”
“Well, I guess that’s settled then. I won’t offer another one. Ever.”
