Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
She pressed her lips together, considering him. In their limited interactions, he’d noticed that she flipped between mouthing off and looking at him like she was half-sure he’d transform into a monster when she wasn’t paying attention. Which one was the real Olivia? The cautious woman or the snarly spitfire? He wanted to know, even though he’d already promised himself he’d leave her alone.
Finally she propped her tray on her hip. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah, well, you made your position pretty clear, and I still came here tonight looking to change your mind. It was kind of a dick move, and for that I’m sorry.”
“I see.” But her tone said she still wasn’t sure what to think of him.
He should leave it at that and walk away. But the old Cillian, the part he couldn’t quite banish and wasn’t sure if he even wanted to, piped up. “Don’t get me wrong, the offer’s still on the table if you change your mind. I’d love to spend a solid week making you scream my name while you come around my cock. Or a single night. Or somewhere in between. Your call. But I won’t bring it up again.”
Her dark eyes went a little hazy. “You’re bringing it up right now.”
“To make sure we’re on the same page. I want you. You want me, too. You’ve got your reasons for not taking what I’ve offered, and I respect that.” Or at least he was doing his damnedest to respect that. He shrugged, trying to work out some of the tension in his shoulders. “But if you change your mind, I’m all over it.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.” She didn’t sound sure, though.
If he didn’t miss his mark, Olivia would spend the rest of tonight thinking about the possibility of them fucking until they forgot their own names. Good. He permitted himself a grin. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” When he hit the street, even with the sticky heat of the July night trying to cling to him, he had the urge to whistle for the first time in too long.
Chapter Four
Sloan O’Malley held her phone, staring at the caller ID while it rang. There was no name next to the number, but there didn’t have to be. She knew who it was. Carrigan. Her thumb hovered over the end call button, but she couldn’t do that any more than she could answer it. Some days she wished she could see things as black and white as her father did. To him, Carrigan had betrayed the family by dodging her forced marriage to Dmitri Romanov and falling in love with James Halloran instead. She did the most unforgivable thing of all—daring to choose a man over her family. To Seamus O’Malley, Carrigan was dead and gone the second she walked out the door. He’d done what passed for mourning for a few days, and then to all appearances, it was business as usual.
Though he hadn’t mentioned marriage where Sloan was concerned.
Six months of waiting for the sword to fall—would she have to take Carrigan’s place to secure an alliance with the Romanovs?—and Sloan was just plain exhausted. But her father hadn’t even breathed the word marriage, to Dmitri or otherwise, and she suspected she had Carrigan to thank for the reprieve.
Sloan set her phone aside, where it finally stopped ringing, and sent her sister to voice mail. They hadn’t talked since she’d walked out of the house, leaving the rest of them to fend for themselves while she pursued her happiness. Sloan was a terrible person for judging her for that, but she couldn’t seem to stop. Maybe if Carrigan’s happiness had been tied up in anyone other than a Halloran it would have been easier to stomach. Maybe.
She still didn’t understand. There were millions of men out there in the world, none of which was responsible—directly or otherwise—for the death of Devlin. Why couldn’t her sister have fallen in love with one of them? That, at least, would be understandable.
Sloan left her phone on her dresser and slipped on her shoes. She had to get out of this house, which had started to feel a whole lot like a tomb. Her siblings were dropping off, one by one. Even those who hadn’t left felt like they had a foot out the door. They’re all going to leave me. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But it will happen.
Cillian didn’t chafe at the bit of familial responsibility, but he was half the man he used to be. Their father saw it as his growing up, but Sloan knew better. Part of the thing inside him that had been so vital and full of life was withered and dead. How long before the rest of him followed suit?
Keira…She wrapped her arms around herself as she hurried downstairs. She didn’t know Keira anymore. The girl who’d been all sunshine and roses was something else altogether. The last time Sloan tried to talk to her, Keira shoved her. She was a ticking bomb, and it was only a matter of time before she exploded.