The brothers exchange an ominously amused look.
Ryan stands. “Well. On that note—we’ll get out of your way.”
Cillian tips two fingers in salute as he joins his brothers. “Don’t kill him. We might just be starting to like him.”
They leave laughing, boots thudding, voices fading down the hall. The door shuts, silence following, and then it’s just me and her.
Bleary-eyed, half-drunk, adrenaline humming, I can feel my pulse throbbing in the bruise that’s spreading across my cheek—but I can’t seem to tear my eyes off her.
11
AISLING
My brothers swagger out of the room like they own it, shoulders bumping furniture, laughing loudly enough to be heard from bloody Dublin.
They’re drunk, glaikit, happy, and already back to their old rhythm despite the roiling tension they’re leaving behind. The door swings shut on their belligerence, muffling it, and the silence in their wake is abrupt and heavy.
It’s just me and Raf now.
Him with his stupidly handsome, purple-mottled face, sprawled in a chair like a king who lost a bar fight and still thinks he won.
And me, sitting with my arms crossed, the body language of a woman who wants to rip someone’s throat out but gave her word she wouldn’t.
He looks at me for a long second, his gaze darkening alongside his black eye.
His split lip curves up at one corner, and for the first time in forever, I remember that he’s dangerous—and not just because he’s lethal with a gun.
His presence is everywhere, filling the air like cigar smoke, thick and invasive.
Rising tensely to my feet, I clench my fists and lift my chin, eyes burning. “So, you think everything’s alright between us just because you took a few punches?”
“Oh, come on. These weren’t just any punches,” he quips playfully. Then the humor drains from his eyes as he meets my gaze and sits up, resting his elbows on his knees. “No, Aisling, in fact, I was under the impression that came with our marriage vows.”
“Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I forgive you,” I snap.
“You forgive me?” he sneers. “I think it’s time you stop playing the victim, because as you said yourself, you’re the one who orchestrated this alliance. So it seems to me that you have a habit of tucking your whole bleeding-heart story up your sleeve and pulling it out whenever the mood suits you.”
I scoff, my blood boiling over at how quickly he can flip the script to make it sound likeI’mthe manipulative one in this relationship. “I hate you.”
His hazel eyes study me with that unnerving intelligence, his gaze lingering on my warm cheeks and that signature smirk returning slowly to his lips. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean you’ve stopped wanting me.”
My jaw clenches as I resist the urge to scream my denial, even as my heart flutters traitorously against my ribs. “You wish,” I hiss, my cheeks flaming.
“You’re a terrible liar,focosa,” Raf teases, setting his whiskey aside and rising to take a bold step toward me. “Especially when you’re drunk. You might notwantto want me, but I’ve seen the truth you hide behind your eyes.”
My temper flares, heat, whiskey, and rage consuming me, and before I know what I’m doing, I’ve closed the distance to come toe-to-toe with the man who broke my heart. “Don’t you dare call me a liar.”
The air hums between us as we glare at each other.
When Raf breaks the silence, his deep, smooth voice vibrates through my body like an earthquake. “So, that was your best impression of a loving couple, then?” he challenges, his speech slurred just enough to sound reckless as he gestures vaguely toward the door, indicating my brothers, who are long gone by now. “Because you told me you would convince your family that this alliance—this marriage—is real and worth backing. But as far as I can tell, you’re not even trying to sell it, are you?”
I look at him flatly. “What does it matter if my brothers think I hate you?” I challenge. “That won’t change the fact that they believe in this alliance.”
He lifts a brow. “It doesn’t matter aside from the fact that you agreed to make them believe it, and you’re clearly incapable of keeping your word.”
“I am keeping it!” I shout, my temper getting the better of me. “Just let me worry about my brothers. I know how best to handle them.”
“Why, because they already know you hate me?”