“Fine,” she grinds out.
“You’re welcome to consult your attorney as well.”
“Obviously. What else is on your list of requirements? If you say anything related to sex, I’m going to stab you somewhere sensitive. I wouldn’t sleep with you again unless I had no other choice.”
“Famous last words. You can’t tell me you didn’t like it.”
“Want to bet?” she says sweetly. Then stiffens when my smile widens.
“So vicious,” I say, then force myself to get back to business. “I want to have you added to my accounts.”
Snorting, she says, “Like hell. My father is clearly willing to pay fast and loose with my mother’s money, but that won’t be me. I’m not giving you a cent.”
Her voice is stern, and I sigh, thinking maybe I should have brought in a mediator. Christ, Elizabeth would have been so much easier. “I said I want to add you to my accounts. I don’t want your money,bhean chéile, but I find it interesting that protecting yours is your priority.”
“Then what do you?—”
“Keep your accounts; I don’t want or need them. I won’t touch what’s yours.” I take a languid sip of coffee, watching theconfusion tighten her features. “But what’s mine is yours. I’ll add you to mine as soon as possible. Spend to your heart’s content.”
Her eyebrows jump somewhere in the vicinity of her hairline. “But why?”
It’s so cute when she’s thrown off guard. I should do it more often. I like it almost as much as when she’s spitting fire at me.
“I have money, though that may be hard for you to imagine. As my wife, you’re entitled to it,” I drawl with another smirk. She looks like she wants to slap it off my face, and my eyes drop with amusement to where her hands twitch in the folds of her dress. “For whatever you need. My mother would have my hide if I did any less, and if we’re going to do this, it’s expected. Your father’s debts will be taken care of from your inheritance. Aside from that, you’ll have a vast fortune at your fingertips.”
“But—”
“As soon as it fits for our schedules, I’ll take you to my man and have you added. Blow it. Leave it. Donate it, I don’t give a shite. There’s more than enough to fund your whims and fury. It might even humor me to see you try to spend it as fast as I can earn it.”
She gathers her surprise and tucks it away. It’s fascinating how she wipes her emotions and puts on a perfect mask. “I may do that. I could use a new wardrobe.”
“It’s yours.”
“That way I can save for a future without you in it.”
“Cute that you think you’ll have one.”
“I could really use a vacation.”
“We’re going to Ireland for our honeymoon soon. After that, we can go wherever you want. I have a jet.”
“You have a jet,” she deadpans.
“Technically, it’s the organizations, but as my wife, it’s at your disposal.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to the Maldives.”
“I’ll pack our bags.”
“You’re really terrible at this negotiation thing,” she muses. “So far, it sounds like I’m coming out on top of this. What’s in it for you?”
“Maybe I like seeing you on top,” I drawl.
Ignoring my comment, she lifts a shoulder. “I’m not going to say no to a new fortune. It’s your bottom line, not mine. Don’t come crying to me when I send you the bills.”
“Like I said, spend as much as you like.”
“What else do you want?”
