Page 28 of The Irish Arrangement

The idea of corralling her in the bedroom felt like a chore. Another job to do when I already had so much on my plate. All I wanted after being up for the last day and night straight was to sleep and not be bothered by anyone or anything.

“Hi, Cara,” Ian said as he entered the dining room, nodding at her before taking his seat.

She lifted her face, her spoon held midair as she stared at him. “Hello?”

Ian chuckled. Glancing between us. “What? I can’t greet my sister-in-law?”

“Oh.” Cara took a spoonful. “Sorry. Not sorry.”

I glared at her.

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in days. I forgot how communication works.”

Ian bit his lip, raising his brows as he looked at me. “And is there good news…?”

“She’s not pregnant,” I bit out.

“She is right here.” She mocked a sheepish smile. “Oh, sorry. Am I to be a mute prisoner and welcome you speaking for me at all times? My bad.”

“Enough with the fucking attitude.”

She smirked, not making eye contact as she continued to eat.

“Wow. Sorry I was late,” Ian said, clearly seeking a way to avoid this terseness between me and my wife. He was born with that innate, so-called charm that I saw as a waste of time. “I just wanted to check on Dad first.”

“Your dad?” Cara lifted her gaze to him. “He’s here?”

Ian nodded. “Didn’t you know?”

“Is that why the upper floor is locked?” she asked.

“What’s it to you?” I growled. “He doesn’t need to be bothered. The only thing you can do for this family is get pregnant.”

“I am aware,” she snapped.

“You didn’t know Dad lived here?” Ian asked, then glanced at me.

I shrugged. I didn’t know what Frank and Tom showed her. The guards might not have tried to give her a tour of the whole place. Maybe Dad told them to fuck off and not to have any visitors. It hardly mattered to me.

“It seems meeting my new family isn’t necessary,” she quipped.

“It’s not.” I gestured at Ian. “He’s my brother. And that’s all you need to know. What is necessary is your making a family.”

“Gosh.” She deadpanned at me, tilting her head to the side. “With that sweet charisma and appeal you’ve got going for you, I’m shocked you haven’t knocked up half of the women in all of Ireland yet.”

I pressed my lips together. Frustration welled within me, but I couldn’t look away. She captivated me. Pushing me—pushing her luck in doing so. And fuck if it didn’t emphasize how damn gorgeous she was. Barbed tongue and all. She looked alive and heated, riled up to talk back like this.

Like it gave her a thrill. Her words were intended to irk me, but she had no clue how cutting her comment was. I didn’t give a shit about charming a woman, but I had tried twice to keep a wife.

“And you’re the lucky winner of them all,” I snarled.

“Luck.” She snorted. “Is that what I’m supposed to thank for this imprisonment?”

Ian cleared his throat. Loudly. “Speaking of families.” He shot me a look to shut up. “What do you know about yours?”

Once more, she froze, holding her spoon halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”

“What do you know about your family?” Ian asked.

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