Cian opened the door to the bedroom. It was lavish. The wallpaper was robin’s egg blue, and the entire room had gold touches. Little porcelain doe figurines were placed around on the furniture, and a four-poster bed made for a princess sat in the center. A desk was placed in front of a window. Green stretched as far as the eye could see. A murky lake—or was it a lough in Ireland?—broke it up. I wondered if, on a cloudless day with blue skies, would it still be that color?
Beatrice—Mrs. Sweetman—hustled up to us. She smiled at me and introduced herself, shaking my hand so vigorously, she shook me. “You have fresh clothes. I’m pretty sure they’ll all fit, lovey. I’m sure you’re famished from the long plane ride. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, “but I’m not hungry.”
Cian stepped in front of me when I went to step into the room. I looked into that frosted gray window, and for a color so cold, I could’ve sworn a fire burned behind it at my defiance.
Keenan cleared his throat. “Mrs. Sweetman is a good cook, girl. You don’t want to miss her meals.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said more forcefully, refusing to move my stare.
A low growl trembled in Cian’s throat.
I crossed my arms over my chest.
This time, the noise he made was deep and angry, and he threw a hand up before he marched toward the room at the end of the hall and slammed the door. I marched into mine and shut the door behind me. I had my own bathroom, but I couldn’t find the energy to take a bath yet. I flung myself on the bed and closed my eyes, wishing for sleep to take me.
I wished I could wake up when this was all over.
A knock came at the door. It was like my bones weighed double what they used to, and I had to use all my strength to pick myself up from the bed.
Mrs. Sweetman smiled at me. “Mr. O'Callaghan would prefer if you ate with him, dear.”
I looked toward his room. The doors were still shut.
“I don’t mean to put you in the middle of this, but…you can tell Mr. O'Callaghan I’ll eat when I’m hungry.”
She looked down the hallway, her eyes lingering on his door for a few seconds. It was like she was preparing to say something she didn’t want to, but after she sighed, she only nodded and walked away.
I shut the door behind her and took a seat on the bed. A few seconds later, the door rattled, and I heard the lockclick.
The brute himself had probably locked me inside the room.
Good.
Even though everything around me screamed riches, I was still in a prison, no matter how fancy it looked. I let my bones take me down and closed my eyes.
Chapter7
Cian
Chaos.
It ruled inside of my head ever since she blew into my world.
Long, shimmerin’, dark-brown hair that reminded me of chestnuts in fall. Electric blue eyes that were created from a storm. And a sweet but woodsy scent that was subtle enough to linger on my clothes and skin without bein’ obvious about it. It was like the ticklin’ of someone else’s long hair on my body, and I couldn’t seem to find it to remove it.
She was…intoxicatin’. Like her name.
Maeve Rose Bell.
I couldn’t get her out of my head. I couldn’t concentrate on anythin’ else.
Like an endless ring, she kept drivin’ me out of my fuckin’ mind and straight back to her.
She was so fuckin’ infuriatin’.
I didn’t need this complication in my life. This distraction.
