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“It’s okay.” Shea steps into the hall and shakes her hand. “I’m glad to meet you. I’ll be taking care of the wedding.”
“Oh, right. The wedding. I’m a bride-to-be. Yay me.”
Shea gives me a side-eye.
Smiling, I say, “Shea, when do you have to go back?”
“Five minutes ago.” She checks her phone. “Kidding, I can stay for a while.”
“Aye. Why don’t you and Isabella talk in the library? I have to leave.”
“Where are you going?” Isabella asks, like she owns me.
A strange feeling washes over me that’s partly unsettling, partly sexy, and partly enraging. I haven’t answered to a woman in seven years. Not that I answered to Norah.
“I have a business dinner. I go out most nights.” I hear Shea clearing her throat behind me.
“Don’t business dinners usually include spouses?” Isabella crosses her arms. “I’m going to be your wife.”
“You’re right.” I give her a once-over. She’s still wearing that flimsy T-shirt. And clearly, without a bra because enormous tits bounce underneath. Those damn cutoff shorts have to go, too, because they ride up way too high on her thighs. How am I supposed to concentrate? “We have to get you new clothes right away.”
“And a wedding dress.” She puts her hands on her hips, and I imagine my hands there while I take her from behind—rough, the way I like it.
The forceful swelling in my briefs has me rubbing my aching forehead. “Right, a dress. Shea…”
“On it.” My sister takes out her phone and wanders down the hall.
When we’re alone in the hallway, I move toward Isabella, and she backs up against the wall. “It’s been a tough day for you. I get it. I also get that you’re young, and I’m sorry this situation has been forced upon you. But you don’t have a choice. You want to be on my arm for business dinners, playing my wife? You’ll play my wife in my house, as well. Important people come and go around here. You will dress the way I want you to when you are in this part of the house where people can see you. I will worship you in public, and I expect the same from you. Upstairs is your space. I will make that concession, okay?”
“Right,” she says softly, and her sweet, warm breath has me fantasizing how it would feel on my dick.
As I settle into this decision to get married, I suddenly feel wide open and free. Free to exploit it. I want Isabella pregnant with my child as we emerge as the family left standing in the war between the Italians and the Russians. Every abandoned business, legal and illegal, by Parisi and Koslov will be mine for the taking. Children will prove I am serious about my legacy. My brothers will need wives soon, as well, to start their families. People won’t be able to turn a corner without bumping into an O’Rourke.
The way Isabella looks at me, though, I wonder if it’s possible to have something real with her. Eventually. For the first time in years, I don’t feel those rusty bars around my heart.
Maybe my dick is taking over. The same dick who’s used to rough sex with tied-up and blindfolded women in the dark. Chained to all four bedposts while I violate every hole to get the rage out of my system.
Can I have both withmy wife?
“Now, my sister is here. I would appreciate it if you would change into something—anything—more appropriate while you meet with her. She’ll respect you for it.” I brush her face.
“You’re so demanding. What about me?” Her eyes lower to my hand.
“Besides school, what else do you want, Isabella?” I hover, tempted to grind my dick into her stomach. I still don’t know if she’s a virgin. Considering the day I had, I don’t think I can handle the news either way.
“I don’t want to be ignored.” She folds her hands.
“That’s a promise I can’t make right now. But your request is noted.”
She rolls her eyes at me, and fuck… That turns me on.
Shea rounds the corner, halting when she sees us standing close.
Her confused eyes find me, but she smiles. “My sales rep at Crest Diamonds can see you tomorrow at eleven.”
“For what?” I ask, but it slams into me.
“Rings?” Shea blinks at me like I’m a Neanderthal.
