Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
It would be okay. It had to be okay. If this Teague was a monster, too, well she already knew she was capable of defending herself. Her stomach twisted at the thought. Please, God, please don’t make me do it again. There had to be another way—a better way to protect her family. She was so wrapped up in her misery, she didn’t realize she was no longer alone until a rough male voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. “Want a smoke?”
Callie opened her eyes to a man offering her an opened pack of cigarettes. He was attractive in a brutish sort of way, his jaw square, cheekbones to kill for, and shoulders filling out his expensive suit in a way that didn’t look the least bit comfortable.
“I don’t smoke.”
“Now’s as good a time to start as any.” He shook one out and handed it to her, and then lit the one dangling between his lips.
She started to hand hers back and then reconsidered. What was one cigarette going to hurt? It certainly couldn’t make the night any worse. “Ah… thank you.”
He offered the lighter, cupping the flame between his big hands, and waited for her to lean in and light it. It felt shockingly intimate, as if they were sharing a secret or other such nonsense. She looked away, inhaling sharply, and started coughing. “Oh God.”
“Inhaling might not be the smartest idea.” He didn’t seem to have a problem with it, exhaling a stream of smoke that temporarily shielded his face from her. “I hear we’re going to be married.”
This was Teague O’Malley? She tensed, but he seemed content to stand in this dark alley with her and share his cigarettes. Now that she knew what to look for, she recognized the same coloring that his father and older brother had—sun-darkened skin and near-black hair. His dark eyes weren’t as cold as Seamus’s, but that didn’t comfort her in the least. All it meant was that he was a better liar than his father was. “What do you think about that?”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter what either of us thinks, does it?”
Her father knew how important it was not to undermine her authority now that she was the heir, and he was usually willing to sit down and hash things out with her before making a decision that would impact their family and business on multiple levels. A decision like choosing the man she was going to marry. But he hadn’t even consulted her. And she fully intended to find out why at the earliest available opportunity. It was too late to back out now. Not only would it insult the O’Malleys, who shared too much of their border to provoke into anything beyond the occasional skirmishes, but it’d further weaken a position that couldn’t afford to take any more hits. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”
She tried her cigarette again, and this time the smoke went down smoother. Her head spun a bit, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, so she did it a third time, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to know why he’d followed her out here—if there was something he’d wanted to say that couldn’t be said in front of both their combined families—but he seemed content to enjoy his cigarette in silence. Maybe he’d needed the respite as much as she had?
The escape—from strategizing, from talking, from questioning—was a gift, no matter how strangely packaged. She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift further away with each exhale. All too soon, it’d be time to step back into the chaos and let the events neither of them could stop begin, but right now they were just two strangers, sharing a moment of silence.
Can we really be strangers if we’re already engaged?
She pushed the thought away, determined to enjoy this stolen moment in time before reality set back in. By the time she finished her cigarette, her hands had almost stopped shaking. She crushed the remaining bit under the toe of her sky-high heels and turned for the door.
Only to find her way blocked by Teague.
He was taller up close, well over six feet, and broader as well. The man looked like a bruiser, which was fitting because it was exactly what he was. He stared down at her with beautiful dark eyes, and her demand that he get out of her way died in her throat. While she was debating her options, he reached up, quick as a snake, and snagged the silk scarf around her neck. She made a grab at it, but it was too late.
Teague took a step closer, and then another, backing her against the wall, his eyes narrowing at her neck. “Show me.”
“Leave me alone.” Was that her voice, weak and wavering? She took a shuddering breath, all her hard-won calm disappearing. “Get out of my way.”