“So feisty. You’d think you’d be sweeter after the mess you’ve put us in.”
“The last thing I’m going to be to you is sweet.”
“You’re the one who put yourself in this position. I’m not sure why you’re pretending to be upset that you got what you soclearlywanted.”
“That’s right. I tried to reason with you, but you wouldn’t listen. I told you if you went through with it, I’d make you regret it.”
His body tenses, lithe as a tiger underneath the lines of his shirt, and he snorts a laugh. “You shouldn’t have played games with the big boys. There is far more to this scenario than you could possibly imagine. If I’m able to fix this mess you’ve made, it’ll be a fucking miracle.”
Unease prickles along my spine. “If you and my father hadn’t cooked up this plan in the first place, none of this would have happened.”
O’Connor relaxes, and it’s as though the tension immediately transfers to me. How is it he’s more intimidating while lazy and loose like this than he is when he’s got murder in his eyes?
Then he says, “Oh, pet, if that’s what you think happened, then you have no idea what is going on here.”
CHAPTER 8
CATRIONA
“Then why don’t you tell me what’s going on here?”
He’s quiet for a long time. So long that I don’t think he’ll answer at first. I fill the silence with plans for every possible response. Then I imagine how the hell I’m going to get myself out of this mess. For all my plotting, it hadn’t occurred to me what would happen after the wedding. All I could think about was revenge.
Am I willing to sacrifice my safety for it?
Without a doubt.
Am I prepared for the reality of those very real consequences?
Probably not.
So when O’Connor—I can’t imagine ever calling him Aiden again—straightens, puts out his cigarette, and knocks back the remains of his drink, I brace myself for anything. For the worst.
His palm wraps around my jaw. His eyes are silver fire. “I’m done playing games with you. You have until we get hometo convince me your bullshit is worth the trouble. Otherwise, I’ll tell your father this was a mistake. I’ll have the marriage annulled and marry your sister like I was supposed to do in the first fucking place.”
I glare, but the part of me that knows him is melting the slightest bit. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I’m so far from joking, sweetheart. You want to play games, we can play games, but I think you’ve forgotten that I always win.”
“What do you mean, convince you?” I ask warily, my heart thudding a heavy drumbeat in my ears. “Do you want me to come up with another wager or something?”
O’Connor moves from the seat across from me to the one beside me and sprawls out, looking every inch a king. The creeping sense of foreboding washes over me, like I’ve been dreading and anticipating this since the moment I saw him again.
“What do you think I mean? Prove to me that all the shit I’m going through for you will be worth it. Prove to me why you’re worth the trouble. Prove to me why I shouldn’t undo all of your hard work as soon as we get home.” When I can do nothing but gape at him, his expression melts into a smirk I want to claw off his face. “What can I say? You were right. You deserve every bit of punishment I can inflict on your tight little body for what you’ve done. Go ahead and fight me. We both know I’ll win.”
If asked, I’d say the heat flooding me is shame. A sane woman would be running in the opposite direction, but something in me unravels at the words.
“Do your worst,” I say, and tip my chin up at him even though I know it’s reckless and stupid. “I think we both know it’ll take a lot more than threats from you to break me.”
He practically purrs with savage delight. “Whatever I want, hmm? Maybe you’ll be the perfect wife for me after all. I hadn’tplanned to use Elizabeth for anything other than a pretty prop at my side to trot out from time to time, but maybe this arrangement won’t be completely worthless. After all, I already know how sweet you come for me.”
Despite my whispered prayers to the contrary, my cheeks fill with color, and he chuckles.
“Yeah, I remember everything about you, pet. Why don’t you show me what a good little wife you can be? We still have time before we get home.” He makes a show of closing the window separating us from the driver so that we’re completely alone in the dark interior.
And then I understand all too well.
Because this is the masked man from the masquerade. The one who’d conquered me in a room full of people. Who’d made me crawl for him. Made me beg. Made me want every dark, filthy thing he’d done. He sneers at me like he can read my thoughts. All hard edges. Unforgiving. Practically a stranger.
