The Enforcer's Redemption (Sins of the O'Rourke Empire #2)

6. Isla

6

ISLA

I f it isn't bad enough that I have to marry the dolt, he's sent in a fancy wedding seamstress. I don’t get to pick my dress or even the material. She's chosen something really scratchy and uncomfortable. The pins she is using to adjust the bodice to make alterations stick into my skin every so often, prompting a wince and a yelp. Like now as she works on the right side under my arm.

"Do you have to be so damn rough?" I snap. The strapless bra Rebecca sent to me is stained by my blood now, but there's nothing to be done about it. The woman working on this dress is either shaking in fear of my attitude or she's inept and shouldn’t be sewing.

My eyes shift to the full-length mirror Declan had brought in when he asked what I wanted. I got the bag of clothes from my sister, but there were simple things I missed. This mirror is one of them. My reflection reveals my own emotion, disgust, anger, probably fear if I look at myself long enough.

"Sorry, mum," the woman mutters for the fiftieth time. "I've no idea why my hands er shakin' so bad." Her head dips, and she sighs as she pulls the thick material away from my body. It can't be easy for her coming into an O'Rourke home and working like this. I wonder if she's here under duress, if I should be kinder.

My own mum often had women come in to make clothing for us, but farm life is slower than the chaos of organized crime—the pace set for darkness. We're kinder people too, more generous. Ronan O'Rourke and all four of his brothers are monsters who hold my father hostage to their deceit. It's why I need to get away from them, need to get my father away.

"I'm sorry too," I tell her softly, remembering who I really am. Working for them for so long has made me jaded and angry. It's not who I am. I'm just a woman who got caught up in the wrong mess. I can't even blame my father. He had his debts, true, and he could've found a different way to pay them off. Something tells me the O'Rourkes just twisted the knife and he had no way to back out.

The seamstress's eyes flick up to mine and she nods, but there is still fear there. I want to put her at ease, tell her I'm not a monster, not one of them, but the door swings open. My attention moves to the motion and I watch Declan stroll in. He's dressed in a dapper fashion, fitted charcoal suit, long black tie. His beard is trimmed neatly again, charged emeralds poring over my body.

"It's beautiful. Thank you, Raina." His words set into motion some strange reaction in the seamstress. I feel her hands on my back, then the zipper being pulled down. Suddenly, I'm standing naked, the dress pulled downward over my body as she forces me to step out of it.

My cheeks feel hot and my body flushes. The woman scurries away with the gown and her pincushion still wrapped to her arm. Her nervous skittering topples the bedside table, makes the candle on the other one jostle, and then she's gone, leaving me standing in just my bra and panties in front of the man whose eyes devour me.

"Beautiful," he says again, unbuttoning his suit coat. I stand tall, but my body wants to fold in on itself. The way he drinks me in is erotic and sensual. I push it away, not wanting to be flustered like this. I like his attention a little more than I should. I always have. Like last night when I dreamed he was on top of me, pleasuring me. Those things my mind concocts while I'm sleeping aren't in my control, are they?

"What do you want?" I snip, crossing my arms over my chest. This bra is a little on the small side, making my cleavage a bit too obvious, which I don't notice until the position of my arms makes it worse. Declan's eyes drop there, to the swell of my breasts.

"I came to discuss the wedding with you… I see the clothing Rebecca sent was acceptable." His eyes don't leave my chest as he prowls closer. Heat zings to my core at the way he's looking at me. How often does a young woman dream of a moment like this, where a man is captivated by her, riveted? My mind thinks horrible, nasty, dirty thoughts about him and what he could do to me.

"Are they safe?" I say, ignoring his comment. I have to do or say something to keep my mind off the fact that I'm extremely aroused by him. I turn away, staring at the book lying open on the roll-top. The seamstress interrupted me. I was almost finished with my latest obsession, Gulliver's Travels .

"Your family is protected." Declan stops in front of me and uses the back of his knuckles to brush up and down my cheek softly. The action sends more warmth pooling in my body. It's so gentle I can't hate him for it, but I do. I hate being any man's pawn, feeling his steely eyes rake across my bare flesh. I'm supposed to be cherished… That's what this touch says. But it's not what he's doing by forcing me to wed him. Not even close.

"You'll be protected too, Isla." His voice is low now, rumbling up from his belly and vibrating my chest. My heart wants to flip and jump up into my throat with rage, but my body wants him to continue touching. It elicits moisture between my thighs which I'm sure he can smell. I can.

"I told you, I don't need your protection." It's not hard to keep my tone hostile, not when I think of Rebecca and how innocent she is. With men like this out there, and my father who has other "debts", I feel like I owe it to her to stop this, to get my entire family away from this world so she and I can both be safe.

"Oh, well maybe that’s true…" His hand drops, finding a few strands of my dark hair and pushing them over my shoulder. Then his fingers trail down my arm and across to my wrist. A single thumb brushes across the lip of my strapless bra's cup, teasing my flesh. Goosebumps rise on my arms and thighs. I steel myself, not wanting to respond.

"Maybe it's you I need to be protected from?" My voice lilts as if it's a question, and the way he's making me feel, I can't hide the way my body is responding. My chest rises and falls faster than it should, betraying me. God, I want him to do unearthly things to me.

"A predator, is that what you think I am?" When he pinches my chin and forces me to look up at him, I see the desire in his eyes. No doubt if I reached to his groin, I'd find him hard as a rock. "Cheeky mare… Is this the way you're playing me? Hard to get? You want me to hunt you… I see how turned on you are. Your lips are blood red. They were the instant Raina took that dress off you and bared you for me. Your chest is a jackrabbit, Isla." The pad of his thumb pinches my skin to his finger and he smirks. "Oh, I'd hunt you.”

"Stalk you across this room, pounce on you as if you were my kill, and then I'd spread you and devour you, drop by drop of that delicious moisture you make." His smirk intensifies and he chuckles. My body is rebelling against what I know is the right thing. My groin aches, my pussy pulsing. "Would you like that?"

"Get away from me," I hiss, but I don't mean it. He knows I don't. He's read me like one of my books, except my books are fiction, and this arousal is very real.

"Isla, stop fighting nature." The Declan who is gentle and calm with me returns. His breath dusts my face. Though I avert my eyes, I'm unable to turn my head. I watch in my periphery as he licks his lip and stares now at my mouth. My core is throbbing.

"I'm marrying you on a precept, not because I want you. And I'm doing it to save my father." The words come out choked, stiff. What I wouldn't give to feel the stubble of his beard scraping at my inner thighs right now. I have to get my body under control or I'm going to wind up fucking him and making this more complicated. The first chance I get to leave this place, I have to take it, and I don't want any regrets.

"I'm marrying you, and when I do, you'll be fully mine. Those tits, that hot body, your tight ass. And I'm going to show you how a real man treats a woman. You'll melt…" He's so close now, I think I can hear his heartbeat. My eyes can't turn away anymore. I'm almost whimpering in desire, and my insides feel like lava. "You belong to me," he says, and my hand flies before I even know what I'm doing.

The smack is loud and hard. It hurts my palm more than him. He doesn't even move. His posture doesn't shift. His hand remains on my chin just as gently. But he closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them, the beast is there.

"I belong to no one."

"We'll see," he grunts as he backs away. "But the only things I protect with my life are the things that I own." Declan buttons his jacket and turns. He calls over his shoulder, "The wedding is in two weeks, so settle in to that thought, Princess. And I promise to make the wedding night extra special."

I'm seething as he shuts the door behind himself. I pick up the book from the desk and throw it, not even caring that I've lost my page. Tears threaten to well up, but I refuse to be broken. I won't marry him. I won't be someone's pawn, no matter how badly my body wants his dick inside me. I will fight for myself and my sister, and I will win.