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I don’t know what to say. Language vacates my brain. For once in my life, I’m left totally speechless, and everyone’s waiting for me to say something, anything at all.
Four young men. All of them big, all of them dangerous. And one older gentleman, the aforementioned Orin, still looking at me with pure skepticism.
My eyes drift to meet his gaze.
It’s ice cold. There’s nothing in those eyes, no emotion, no craving, only a frozen calculation.
And looking in those eyes, I realize something.
My future depends on what I say next.
This isn’t a game. It’s not like Gareth is playing a funny trick at a party. He’s not introducing me as his wife to be a tease, or to piss me off, or to be funny, or for any other reason than to keep us both alive.
Because this Orin guy is the most frightening one of the bunch.
He’s weighing me and judging me. I can practically see the gears spinning. He’s wondering if he can kill me now, or if he has to wait until later to finish me off.
I put on my best smile. I reach out and place my hand comfortably on Gareth’s shoulder. I summon the image of his hand brushing against my breasts back in the car. I try to hold on to the excitement I felt in that moment.
Gareth stiffens, only briefly, but puts his own large palm over mine, the image of the loving, doting husband. I tilt my head toward him, every inch of my body screaming at me to run thehellaway from this room, and give Orin my best smile.
“It’s really lovely to meet you,” I say, laughing awkwardly. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, I know this is a private meeting. There’s just a little family emergency.”
“Kelleher,” Orin says, like he didn’t hear the part about the emergency. “You’re Irish?”
Gareth’s hand squeezes mine. That unmistakably meansfuck, yes, you are.
Fortunately, I don’t have to lie about this one. “Yes, I am. My parents are both second-generation.”
“Good for you,” Orin says, nodding to himself, and the smile he gives Gareth is sharper than a fresh kitchen knife. “Picked yourself a pretty Irish girl. Good for you.”
“She just fell into my lap,” he says.
Orin waves a hand. “Sit down, boys,” he snaps.
And slowly, the four thugs take their seats. I can see the family resemblance once my brain starts working again. They’re obviously all brothers, or at least cousins, and Orin is their father or grandfather, it’s hard to say.
“Really, I’m so sorry for intruding,” I say as if nobody pointed a gun at me and I’m just some ditzy woman. “If it weren’t important—”
“When did you get married?” Orin interrupts, staring at Gareth. “I didn’t know you took a wife.”
“It was recent,” he says smoothly. “Whirlwind relationship. Eloped out to Vegas.”
“Does Evander know?”
Gareth shakes his head. “Couldn’t tell him. You think Evander would take missing my wedding very well? He’ll meet Fiona soon though. I was hiding her away, but I couldn’t bring myself to travel without her. I’m hoping once my friends meet her and realize she’s a delight, they’ll forgive me for keeping this relationship a secret.”
God, that man lies smoother than silk. It’s almost amazing. I guess now I know why he’s such a good lawyer.
Orin lets out a sharp laugh. “That’s cute. You’ll get over the honeymoon phase soon enough, however. But a wife has her uses. Children, in particular.” He sits back, studying Gareth. My stomach’s a twisted mess and all I want to do is get out of here. And did that asshole just say I’m only good for making babies? But whatever, he can be a sexist pig so long as he doesn’t murder me. “Poor Fiona said there was an emergency.” His eyebrows raise. “Do you want to handle that?”
Gareth’s hand tightens on mine. This time, I have no clue what it means. Except that he’s exceedingly pissed. “No, I think my wife can take care of whatever problem came up. Right, babe?”
“Uh, actually—” He’s squeezing hard enough to break fingers, but I remember my freaking apartment is currently turning to ashes. Time to power through the pain. “There’s been a fire.”
Orin looks surprised. Gareth halfway turns to look at me.
“Fire?” Gareth asks.
