As we peer into each other’s eyes, I decide to deliver more harsh truths.
“I won’t ever lie to you. So no, being well off is never gonna solve our problems. If anything, being in the world we live in, we’ll have more problems than most people.” I pause, my grip on her arm firm, only a couple inches separating us. “But what Icanpromise you is that you’ll always be protected. You’ll be valued in your own way, as all wives are in our family. And even if you feel like a pawn in all this, you’ll be a beautiful one. A useful, beautiful one. That’s more purpose than most people serve in their lifetimes, princess. Take comfort and pride in that.”
She wrenches her arm from me. “If you keep touching me like that, you’re going to regret it.”
“How so? What are you gonna do?” My grin widens as I lean closer. “I welcome what you’ve got, Simone. In fact, I’m a little curious about it. How dangerous is the daughter of a weapons dealer?”
Her glare heats up, practically furious enough to burn me to ashes on the spot. Yet I merely loom closer, hardly any space left between us.
You’d think I were about to kiss her with how close I’m leaning.
“I doubt you’re very dangerous at all. In fact, I’ve looked into you, princess. I’d say the beautiful woman in her high heels and designer dresses, driving through the city in her shiny convertible with Daddy’s black card in her purse, has never really suffered a day inher life. You’re about as lethal as a lamb, no matter how loud you bleat. It’d be foolish of you to make an enemy of your husband.”
“Is that a threat?” she asks.
I release a low chuckle. “You decide.”
She steps back, her hazel eyes blazing. They’ve darkened to a deeper brown. “Never underestimate a beautiful woman. You’d be surprised at what we can do, Callahan.”
Then she spins on her heel and storms out of the room. A second later, the bathroom door slams shut with a resounding thud.
I stand in place, staring at the closed door, still grinning.
This is going to be interesting.
I grab my champagne flute and finish the rest it.
My family’s managed to marry me off to the one woman in Manhattan who isn’t impressed by my wealth and high-ranking status in the Irish Mob—the only woman in the city who wouldn’t be content simply being a beautiful woman on a dangerous man’s arm, playing her role as a docile and pampered wife.
They’ve picked the one woman impossible to please.
I take off my waistcoat and tie, tossing them onto the nearest chair. Rolling up my shirt sleeves to the elbow, I sample some of the other items from the welcome display.
Cured meats, aged cheeses, a fig that bursts with sweetness on my tongue.
Simone remains in the bathroom, not making a peep.
I’ll give her another ten minutes, then, if she’s still in there, I’ll check to make sure she hasn’t fallen in the fucking toilet.
…or tried to escape somehow.
I wouldn’t put it past my bride to try something that extreme.
Finally the door opens.
Simone emerges, coming to stand in the doorway. Her anger has seemingly faded, but she’s not exactly jubilant either. Her expression is curiously neutral.
I hold up a piece of cured ham, a mock offering. “Want some?”
She folds her arms across her chest. “We might as well get it over with.”
“You’ll have to be clearer than that, princess,” I say, swallowing another bite. “Get what over with?”
“Consummating the marriage. Isn’t that what tonight’s about? What else is the fancy suite is for? The huge, king-sized bed?” She lifts her chin in challenge despite how otherwise nervous she suddenly seems. “Go ahead. Make your move.”
I put down the slice of cured ham and slide both hands into my pockets, debating if she’s being serious or if this is some kind of test.
But as she stands in front of me, my beautiful bride in ivory, I notice she’s taken some of the pins out of her hair and let the rest of her loose curls fall over her shoulders.