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“I want a man who doesn’t bloody lie to me.” Saoirse’s mouth thins. “I know what I’ll wish for.” She flicks the penny sideways, letting it splash into the fountain. “A fucking explanation, Liam McGregor. And quickly. Starting with yourbusinesstrip after the wedding.”
I cross my arms over my chest, letting out a sigh. “As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, I wasn’t away on business. When Viktor and I broke into the chalet where Alexei was keeping the women, Ana had been sold during his party before we could get there. She was the only one we weren’t able to rescue. So I went after her.”
“Did Viktor ask you to do that?”
“Well, no—”
“So you chose to go after her of your own accord. Why?” Saoirse narrows her eyes.
“Because I felt guilty. I couldn’t leave her in the hands of a man who would purchase her like that. And it was easiest for me to go.” It’s partially the truth, enough of it that I think Saoirse will listen, perhaps.
“Easier for you, the head of the Irish Kings, to go after a trafficked girl instead of some of Viktor’s brigadiers. I think not.” Saoirse purses her lips. “Don’t treat me as if I’m stupid, Liam. What is she to you?”
“We—I’d met her before, briefly. We formed a certain attachment. A friendly one. I didn’t want to leave her rescue in the hands of others—”
“Friendly?” Saoirse smirks. “You’re telling me that there’s no romantic attachment between you, Liam. That you aren’t fucking her, that you’re not—”
“It wasn’t about that—”
“Stop bloody lying!” She shakes her head with disgust, her voice rising, though she’s careful to keep it pitched so that our conversation can’t be heard over the splashing of the fountain. “I found the lingerie in her drawers. Lacy, pretty things, a nightie, a garter belt, a fuckingcollar.” She raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were so kinky, Liam. Gives me certain ideas about our wedding night—or perhaps I’ll have you wear it instead.”
“Come off it, Saoirse.” I glare at her. “I didn’t buy those things for her to wear for me.”
“But you did buy them.”
“They caught her eye. She’s been through a lot. I wanted to spoil her—”
“But not fuck her.” Saoirse shakes her head. “I’m not a fool, Liam. I know men well enough, even if I’ve never been with one. I’m a virgin, not an idiot. I know you don’t want to marry me, that you’ve been dragging your feet since well before the official betrothal. It stings, certainly, that you can’t see what’s in front of your fucking face, that you don’t value me as you ought to. But there are plenty of women in my position, in arranged marriages that are cold and loveless. It’s not what I wanted, but it’s also not unexpected. But this—”
Her jaw tightens, and she steps away from the fountain, closer to me. “This is blatant disrespect, Liam. It’s disrespectful tome, and I won’t have it. I won’t be treated this way. I’m Graham O’Sullivan’s daughter, his eldest daughter. You’d do well to think of the ramifications if I were to tell him what—or ratherwho—I found in your apartment the other day.”
I look at her carefully. “So you haven’t told him?”
“No.” Saoirse’s hands are on her hips, her chin tilted defiantly up at me.
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure yet if I want you dead.” She narrows her eyes at me. “As I said, I’m not an idiot. I know men in your position keep mistresses. Again, it’s not what I’d hoped for. I wanted fidelity, at least in my marriage, if not love. But if you’re going to keep one, she shouldn’t be in your bloody home, Liam. If we’re going to have the sort of marriage my parents had, an old-fashioned arrangement, then it needs to be done with respect. And rules,” she adds, still glaring up at me with those shamrock-green eyes. “You can’t simply do as you please, Liam. Not a man in your position. Not a man with as much as you have to lose.”
“You can stop there.” I look down at her, my own jaw tightening. “That’s not the sort of marriage we’re going to have, Saoirse.”
She blinks at me, momentarily caught off guard. “No?” I can see the flicker of hope that crosses her face, whether she realizes it or not. It makes me feel guilty because even now, as angry and hurt as she is, she still wants what she’d believed this could be. She still feels there’s a chance.
But I’ve come to disabuse her of that notion, once and for all.
“That’s not the marriage we’re going to have, Saoirse, because we aren’t going tobemarried.”
“I—what?” She stares up at me, her expression angry all over again. “What in the bloody hell are you talking about, Liam—”
“I’m going to find a way to break the contract between us,” I tell her firmly. “There will be no marriage. I shouldn’t have let this go on as long as I did.”
“We were betrothed in front of a priest, in front of my father! We made vows—”
“I know. And I’m sorry for leading you on, Saoirse—truly I am,” I tell her gently. “I didn’t want to sign the betrothal that night. But if I hadn’t, I would have come back from finding Ana to a civil war among the Kings. I knew it, and I made a snap decision to keep things from spiraling out of control here while I went to find her. I couldn’t waste any more time—I didn’t know what sort of man had her, what he might be doing to her. She’d been through enough, Saoirse, more than you know—”
“Stop.” She waves a hand at me, her gaze bright and brittle, though I’d wager money I’ll never see Saoirse O’Sullivan shed a single tear for me. She’s not that sort.
“I don’t need to hear the saga of poor Ana,” Saoirse says. “I’m truly sorry for what happened to her and the other women. It’s a terrible thing, and I’ve long thought there should have never been any dealings between the Kings and Viktor Andreyev, so long as he trafficked in women. But of course, I, myself, am a woman, so I never had any voice in that.” She gives me a pointed look. “I was pleased to hear he’s changed businesses. I don’t think for a second that poor girl deserved anything done to her. But that doesn’t mean I want her in your home. It doesn’t mean I approve of whatever you’re doing with her. And it doesn’t mean I intend to sit by and let it happen or listen to this nonsense—”
