Chapter 11 #3
“We’re going to Ireland for our honeymoon soon. After that, we can go wherever you want. I have a jet.”
“You have a jet,” she deadpans.
“Technically, it’s the organizations, but as my wife, it’s at your disposal.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to the Maldives.”
“I’ll pack our bags.”
“You’re really terrible at this negotiation thing,” she muses. “So far, it sounds like I’m coming out on top of this. What’s in it for you?”
“Maybe I like seeing you on top,” I drawl.
Ignoring my comment, she lifts a shoulder. “I’m not going to say no to a new fortune. It’s your bottom line, not mine. Don’t come crying to me when I send you the bills.”
“Like I said, spend as much as you like.”
“What else do you want?”
“I want to know where you are at all times. I’d prefer a tracker you can wear. I don’t trust you to always have your phone on you.”
Catriona snorts. “Like hell that’s going to happen.”
“I guess when I said negotiations, I should have said requirements. Because this is nonnegotiable.”
“You can put a leash on me over my dead body, O’Connor.”
“I’m not going to compromise on your safety, pet.
I hope you don’t ever need it, but it’s imperative that you’re safe.
My world is an ugly one, and this will bring peace of mind.
Didn’t we just have a conversation about how my boss is going to be pissed when he finds out about this?
Do you want to end up at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain? ”
“Your peace of mind is my last priority. I don’t care who you are. You’re not putting a tracker on me. There has to be another way to keep me safe. I’ll carry a taser. Or get a gun.”
Heat surges through me at the thought. “Oh, I can teach you if you like.”
“Not a chance.”
I hide my smile behind another sip of coffee. “Grand. But if you aren’t going to use a tracker, then you’ll at least allow bodyguards. They’re discreet and well-trained.”
“No,” she says flatly.
“I’m being quite flexible here. You’re coming out on top in every way. All I’m asking is this one little thing.”
“To let you stalk me.”
“At least I’m informing you ahead of time,” I say, lifting my hands. “But it’s the tracker, the bodyguards, or I lock you in this house. You choose.”
“Fine, I’ll take the fucking bodyguards,” she snarls. “But you'd better hope you have some bodyguards of your own, because you’ll be lucky if I don’t kill you myself.” Before I can agree, she holds up a hand. “But I want separate bedrooms.”
“No way in—”
“I’m not going to sleep with you, and I’m not going to sleep on the floor. Separate bedrooms, O’Connor, or I swear, I’ll hide somewhere you can’t find me.”
We both know that’s not possible, but all I wanted was the bodyguards, so I say, “Fine. Your own room. I’ll have Frances set one up next to mine. Children—what do you say—”
“I say no way in fucking hell would I ever consider procreating with you.”
“Not even—”
“There’s nothing you could offer me that would make me consider it.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Are we forgetting that you almost married my sister yesterday? I’m pretty fucking sure.”
“So you’re saying you would have considered it if I’d agreed to marry you when you asked?” My voice comes out low, unintentionally, and her eyes darken.
“Don’t twist my words.”
I let the moment linger, then say, “Fine. I reserve the right to renegotiate this later. It makes sense for you to focus on your career first.”
“We aren’t renegotiating anything. I’m never going to have kids with you.” A pause. “You mean you aren’t going to make me stay at home and be the perfect Mafia wife?” You could cut glass with the amount of sarcasm in her voice.
“What makes you think I’d stop you from pursuing your career?”
“I don’t know? My general understanding of who you are as a person?”
Ignoring her, I say, “Then again, you’ve been having trouble with your classes, haven’t you? I’ll worry about your career interfering when you’re not in jeopardy of getting kicked out.”
She jerks away, the china rattling on the table.
“How do you know about that? What—Jesus.” Placing both palms in front of her, she speaks slowly and clearly.
I’m definitely not luxuriating in how good it feels to see her stunned.
“You’ve been, what? Stalking me? Looking into my family?
That stops now. You have your bodyguards, but I draw the line at you infiltrating every aspect of my life. ”
“That sounds like something you should have thought of before you forced me to marry you.”
“If you don’t stay out of my personal and professional life, O’Connor, we’re going to have a problem.”
“I’ll do no such thing… of course, if that’s something you want, I’m willing to—”
“If you say negotiate, I’ll strangle you with my bare hands.”
“—offer a concession.”
“What do you want?” she says through gritted teeth.
“It’s imperative we present a united front, especially to my boss, Cian, so that we’re invited to Ireland to be presented to the other Clans in our organization.
This means you’ll be my wife in public, at events, and especially in front of anyone I work with.
The alternative could be dangerous for us both, so it would be to your benefit to agree, but I’m nothing if not gracious and won’t meddle in any of your classes. ”
“Why the hell would you meddle in the first place?”
Ignoring her, I press, “Do you agree?”
“What sort of events?” she hedges.
“Our reception on Friday. I have a few social obligations, such as a charity gala where Cian will be present, and I can introduce you. Then the dinner with the other Clans in the organization in Ireland.”
She blows out a breath. “Fine.”
“You won’t embarrass me. You’ll act like being Mrs. O’Connor is the only thing you’ve ever wanted, and you won’t leave my side.”
“I said yes. What more do you want?”
“Perfect. You’re doing so well already. See how easy it is to behave?
” She fairly snarls in response, but I pretend not to notice.
“I’ll introduce you to your bodyguards, and then the reception will be on Friday.
Don’t worry about attire. I have a friend who’d slit my throat if I let you wear anything she didn’t choose. ”
“Can we be done now? I need to go home and get my—”
“Absolutely not. You won’t be leaving the estate without your bodyguards.”
“Fine. Then where are they?”
“They start tomorrow. Give me a list of what you need, and I’ll have someone retrieve it for you.”
“I can get my own stuff, O’Connor.”
“If I knew you wouldn’t get yourself into more trouble, maybe I’d believe you.” Putting the cup into the sink, I say over my shoulder, “Get me the list this afternoon, and I’ll have your things brought over. My lawyer will draw up the terms for your approval.”
“You can’t keep me locked in this house. I’ll find a way to get out,” she says to my back, and I stop, then turn and amble to the table. She straightens, wariness clouding her expression.
Leaning down, I brace one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair. She goes so still, I’m almost positive she’s stopped breathing.
“Remember what I told you before? When you thought you could play games with me? Consider that sentiment even more applicable now, Mrs. O’Connor. There’s nowhere you could run where I won’t find you.”