“Don’t.” She keeps her focus on the passing traffic.
“Don’t what?”
“Try to be charming. It doesn’t suit you.”
“I disagree.”
“I don’t care.”
“Liar.” A smirk tugs at my lips.
She finally looks at me then, with fire in her green eyes. “You really think everything is a game, don’t you?”
“Only the parts worth playing.”
“Congratulations, then. You’ve won.”
That lands harder than I expect.
This time, it’s my turn to look away, my jaw tight. “No one wins here, Ciara.”
Tonight was about nothing other than survival, and we both did what we had to do. But damn if I don’t wish being with Ciara felt a little less like war.
Chapter Twelve
CIARA
The silencein the car is thick and hums with tension.
I cross my legs and press my back deeper into the leather seat, as if it might swallow me whole. But it doesn’t, and I’m still here, sitting beside Ronan in his very expensive car as his driver takes us to his very expensive house after participating in a very expensive wedding I never asked for.
And it’s only just beginning.
I risk a glance at him, telling myself I’m checking to see if he looks as miserable as I feel, but he doesn’t. He’s nothing but relaxed as he looks out of the window, one elbow resting on the armrest between us and his other arm across his lap. His casual demeanor makes me want to scream, but I can’t.
That’s what he wants, and I’m not about to give Ronan Sullivan the satisfaction of seeing me break.
When he catches me looking at him, his lips pull up into a smirk that’s pure arrogance.
God, I hate that smirk.
“So, tell me… How does it feel to be Mrs. Sullivan?” His voice drips with that signature smugness.
I roll my eyes. “It makes me sound like a fifty-year-old housewife with a coupon drawer.”
I force my attention from the hulking great man beside me to the window instead.
Ronan laughs. An actual real laugh, rich and deep, which takes me by surprise.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard the man laugh before. In all honesty, I didn’t think he was capable of it.
“Well, when I’m done with you tonight, you’ll feel anything but fifty.”
I snap my head toward him, narrowing my eyes. “Let’s get something straight right now. Just because we’re married doesnotmean we’re sleeping together.”
His smirk deepens. “Who said anything about sleep?”
“God, you’re disgusting.”
