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“Kim.” Sadie shoots her a look. “Marriage isn’t just about sex.”
“No,” I say sadly. “She’s right. Sex would be the only good thing about all this.” Except, I’d told him he wouldn’t even get that. Why had I said that? My brain is too fuzzy right now to even remember.
“He’s hot, too,” Kimmy points out helpfully. “So that’s another good thing.”
“And he knows it,” I mutter. “A little too much if you ask me.”
“Got to love a man with confidence.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. I’m not sure if Killian is as confident as he seems, but he’s pretty good at acting like it. “Give me another.” I tipped back my glass, letting the alcohol burn its way down to my core. Kimmy tips the bottle, and I watch the clear liquid splash into the glass.
She fills up Sadie’s before her own, and we raise the glasses together. “Here’s to hot, sexy men who drive us up the fucking wall,” Kimmy says proudly.
Sadie snorts, tipping her glass back and grimacing. I follow suit before slamming my glass back down on the table. Looking around, I realize I feel a hell of a lot better than I had before. Killian might push my buttons, but I had my girls to help bring me back down to earth. I didn’t know how I would have gotten through this without them.
“I love you guys.” My words slur together. Kimmy pulls me in for a hug, squishing me against her. Sadie just smiles, a knowing look in her eye. “Whatever happens, I know I’ll always have you two.”
“Alright, I think that’s enough vodka for tonight.” Sadie snatches the bottle from the table before either of us could protest. She heads into the kitchen to put it away.
Kimmy leans against my shoulder, her head resting against mine. “Do you really hate this guy? Or do you hate the idea that you might actually like him?”
I grimace, my fingers twisting in my lap. “I have no fucking idea.”
“Well, you might want to figure that out soon,” she says lightly. “Because otherwise, it’ll be really uncomfortable if you marry a guy you can’t stand.”
23
KILLIAN
Ican’t get what the Russians said out of my head—that Cara might not be telling me the whole truth about why her family needs this alliance. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been played by a manipulative woman, and after her antics with Blair, I wouldn’t put it past Cara to go behind my back more than once. She has to be hiding something. I just know it.
And I’m going to find out what, exactly, that is.
I highly doubt she’ll tell me anything. Cara is a hard case to crack. She doesn’t give in easily, and she’s too loyal to her father and her family. But that doesn’t mean she won’t break. I just have to find the right amount of pressure, put it in the right spot, and then I’ll have exactly what I want.
Taking a few of my men with me, I make a house call. I’m not sure if Callahan is home or not, but I’m really hoping not. Even if he is here, I can just say I wanted to stop by to…get to know Cara just a little bit better. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.
Niccolo announces my arrival to the two men at the front gate, rolling down his window. They both shoot us a death glare, but after one call to the house, they let us through. I have to admit, her father’s house is pretty nice. There’s a short wrap-around drive leading to the front of the small mansion. It’s painted white, with a black door and windows. The lawn is way too green to be natural, and the iron fence at the front is a little pretentious, but that’s just me.
A butler answers the front door, eyeing me warily. “Yes? May I help you?”
“I’m looking for Cara,” I tell him politely. His eyes snap over my shoulder to Niccolo and Tony standing behind me.
“Your guard dogs will have to wait outside,” the butler replies finally. Tony growls a bit at his words but says nothing.
I motion for them to stay put as I head into the house. The foyer is simple but beautiful. A staircase leads to the second floor, the walls decorated with classical paintings of Italy. Vases filled with flowers rest on the small shelf beside the door that led to the dining room. To my right was a living room with gray carpet and white walls.
“I will go and get Ms. Ryan for you,” the butler tells me coldly. He stiffly starts up the stairs, giving me time to myself.
I notice a family portrait hanging over the fireplace in the living room. Not caring that I still had my shoes on, I step onto the carpet, making my way around the too-white couch. Cara is younger in the image, maybe in high school. She stands between her parents, Callahan looking the same as he did now. I study her mother. Cara is her spitting image with the same dark hair and eyes, pale skin, and blood-red lips. Mrs. Ryan was beautiful. For a second, I wondered what had happened to her before pushing the thought away.
I don’t care about Cara’s family. And I especially don’t care about what Cara had lost. I hadn’t come here to feel sorry for her.
“Why are you here?”
Turning, I catch sight of Cara at the entrance to the living room. She’s dressed in sweatpants and a cute little tank top that clung to her chest in a way that practically forced my eyes there. Her arms cross, blocking my view, and I smirk to hide my slip-up.
“We seem to ask that question a lot, don’t we?”
