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He just murdered a Koslov soldier, and I witnessed it.
Kieran takes the phone gently from me. “Sorry,” he whispers and then hands it back to me, with my father’s number ringing.
“What?”Papa answers.
“It’s me, Papa.” I close my eyes, knowing when I tell him the big wedding is off, he’ll scream at me and everyone will hear how he talks to me. “Kieran and I are getting married tomorrow at the city council’s office,” I blurt.
Silence stretches out. “Why tomorrow? What happened to the big wedding?” Sure, he wants to parade me around in a white dress to boast how he swindled the Irish king for thirty million dollars.
“I just want it over with.” I look at the body inside a black plastic bag being wiped down by a man in a hazmat suit. Another man fists a blue light, looking for traces of blood, and gently sprays a cleaning agent on the sofa. “I don’t need a big wedding. If you still want to give me away, meet us there.” I hang up and hold the phone against my head.
When I bring it down, Kieran is there with a look of approval. Kneeling, he takes the phone from me. “It’s not gone unnoticed that you talk to your father with a lot of hostility.” He holds my chin, and next, he’s wiping tears that have leaked out of my eyes. “And that even when you’re sassing me, you speak to me with respect. I appreciate that.” He leans forward and presses soft, warm lips to my forehead.
His cologne soothes me, and the heat coming off his body makes him seem even bigger.
I think about what he said, how I don’t need a guard when he’s around. That I’m his to protect. He proved that in bullet-whizzing spades. “I guess we should call Shea. And, um, your mother’s dress is too much for the courthouse. I can wear something from here.” I stand, and on wobbly legs, walk to the metal rack where the dresses I chose sit on hangers, waiting to be wrapped up.
I take the pale pink raw silk dress and hold it against me again. It’s V-cut and shows too much cleavage for a wedding. “I’ll wear a scarf or a chunky necklace,” I say, then break down, remembering once again that everything I owned, my Hermes scarves and all my jewelry, are gone.
Kieran holds me against his chest. My head is turned, and I see Lachlan standing there with his hands shoved into his pockets. He stares at us with steady scrutiny, as if he’s not seen his brother act like this. At least, not since Norah.
Lachlan doesn’t wear suits like Kieran or the others. He’s the enforcer in the family and doesn’t pretend to be a businessmanora gentleman.
“Shhh, it’s okay, Isabella.” Kieran snaps his fingers to the store’s owner, who ambles over, looking shaken. “Bring us every white dress you have in her size.Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
While the O’Rourke brothers wrap up this crime scene and cover their tracks, Kieran helps me try on several white dresses in the dressing room. It’s just us, and there’s no need to be shy since he’s already seen me naked.
Tomorrow night, I’ll be in his bed.
When we get to the white silk A-line dress with princess sleeves and a high embroidered neck, he says, “That’s bleedin’ stunning on you.”
“Thank you. I think it says city council wedding, don’t you?” The tension in my throat strangles me.
“Isabella, I know this is all rushed. We don’t have to do anything tomorrow night that you’re not ready for. Especially since you’re a virgin.” He unzips the dress, his breath hot on the back of my neck. “I don’t know how to be gentle,” he hoarsely whispers.
I don’t know if this is a new opportunity for me to get away. “I see.”
He turns me around and his eyes roam my body. “But I want an heir and will be taking you eventually.” Breathing heavily, he says, “And when I do, cancel all your plans, Isabella. The way I fuck, you won’t be able to walk or think straight for days.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kieran
“Maisgoing to blow me up, isn’t she?” I adjust the tie on my onyx tux less than twenty-four hours later.
“Move your hands. I’m trying to pin your boutonniere,” Shea snaps at me. “They’ll understand. They’ve lived your life for forty years.”
“Are you happy out in the Hamptons, Shea-Lynne?” I ask her in a moment of weakness, drawn in by how much I miss her. Even though it’s for her own safety. “Away from all this?”
“Huh?” Balor speaks up from a burgundy utilitarian sofa with his legs crossed, looking stressed. “Da specifically said—”
“If anything will get you blown up, Kier, it’s pulling Shea into our world,” Riordan adds, trying to pin his own boutonniere.
“Aye.” My sister saves me. “I’m very happy.”
“All signed.” Eoghan struts in, shoving the prenup into his briefcase. “Worked on it all night. And wired the money to Gabe.”
