Since Beatrice had stayed behind in Ireland, I did my own makeup and hair. I went with soft colors, shades of pink that would shimmer like the dress under candlelight. I pulled my hair into a bun because Cian seemed to like to undo it and watch as the strands fell around my shoulders in waves. I switched my glasses out for contacts.
No matter how this night went, I wanted to be all Cian needed after it was over. I wanted to be his reminder of this:Regardless of how this all goes down, you still won the war.
You have your life back.
You have me.
It was the same for me, but in a different way. I was finally off the shelf. My life story had been opened, the pages exposed, and I was free to keep writing it. And what had found itself imbued in the words was true and couldn’t die.
Love.
It bonded me to Cian O'Callaghan like metal fuses together to form an everlasting ring. I looked down at my left hand and sighed wistfully. My heart felt light, as if it floated in my chest.
At the sound of a low, gruff noise coming from behind me, my eyes flew up and landed on the mirror. A pair of gray eyes that could have been described asstormy as the seawas taking me in. Tonight, they were unsure about having me in the mix of his business. They were also wary of making a deal with Mr. MacGregorandapprehensive about the future if Mr. MacGregorturned us down. There was a lot of inner turmoil making them seem more intense than usual.
Before I could ask Cian to zip me up, he came to stand behind me. He was all decked out in a tux. It was the first time since our wedding that he was somewhat…tame looking.
A thrill shot through me when I imagined undressing him and bringing him back to the wild. Running my hands all over his skin, which was so taut against all his muscles, and letting his nature run free with mine.
The zipper on the dress was nothing but a whisper between us when Cian slid it up. I shivered at the soft touch.
“Beatrice will no longer be choosin’ your dresses,” he whispered harshly.
“Why?” My heart pounded against the tightness of the dress. “Is there something wrong with it?”
“It’s too right. All eyes and thoughts will be on you. It’s onlymyright to keep my eyes and thoughts on you.”
“Oh.” I looked down for a second and grinned. That was his version of a compliment.
His hand came around my neck. It was so big, it seemed like he could snap it in two without much effort. But I knew he wasmybeast. He wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.
“So beautiful.” He slid his fingertips up and down my neck. “Like a fragile doe.”
I closed my eyes, tilted my neck to the side some, and sighed. His touch felt so good. So right. I knew my pulse kicked up when he set his hand over it.
“Physically I am,” I whispered, “but I have tough skin, O'Callaghan. Tough skin meaning what I’m made up of on the inside. I can handle tonight. I can handle this life with you.”
His eyes took me in seriously. “Together we make a body. I’m stronger on the outside, but you’re stronger on the inside.” He leaned down and sucked over my pulse, as if he was taking life from it. The strength he craved. He held me up when he pulled his mouth away. He’d made a mark. “I will not be expectin’ any problems tonight, but keep your eyes on me, and stay close.”
Even as the new scenery of Scotland passed us by in a blur, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He couldn’t take his eyes off me. We’d become each other’s stories. We transported each other to other worlds, but we always came back to the one we were making together.
Keenan made an “ach” sound at us.
I grinned.
Cian did too.
It felt like I levitated for a second. The more he grinned, or smiled, the more natural the reaction became, and…his grins and smiles were lopsided.
“How is this even fair?” I said to him.
The blank look on his face turned my grin into a smile. It stretched my cheeks.
“It should be a crime just how handsome you are, O'Callaghan. I should have packed my purse as a weapon. I’m going to need it to whack a few women out of my way tonight.”
He blinked at me before a roar of laughter seemed to echo inside of the SUV, which Henry was driving. Keenan and Fiona glanced at each other, then smiled at hearing it. My father laughed along, though his came much easier than Cian’s. Sometimes my dad would just laugh for no reason, out of the blue. It became normal, and I stopped asking why. Whenever I did, he usually just said something like “an angel tickled me on the side,” or something eccentric like that.
The mood in the car grew lighter. I hoped it was a foreshadowing moment for what was to come.
