Page 3 of The Irish Arrangement

He sneered. “Who fucked one of those Italians. Only she had to have an affair with one who had a jealous wife.”

Erin was my first attempt at marriage and getting an heir. That Italian lover killed her to erase his evidence of infidelity.

“And Caitlin…” I shook my head. My second wife killed herself. She was too soft, too traumatized, she’d warned, from living with a “monster” like me.

“You need to find a fucking wife who can last long enough to give you a child.” Dad sighed, slumping back to his pillows. This argument wasn’t anything new, and each time he implored me to get this taken care of, he was tired of the wait and had lost hope.

Ian cleared his throat. “I’ve been trying to look around and find someone.”

I rolled my eyes. My brother playing match-maker. It was ridiculous.

“But not many Families want their daughters to marry him.”

Dad and I stared at each other. “He’s a fine man. He represents the future of the Sullivan name. The next leader.”

“But he’s also ruthless, prone to being brutish, and very impatient,” Ian said.

“Losing two wives can’t instill much faith,” I admitted.

“Have you asked the Murrays?” Dad raised his bushy gray brows, looking from Ian to me.

I didn’t give a shit about finding a wife. Even though I understood what Dad expected of me, I was fine with Ian trying—and failing—to secure me a bride who’d stick around.

“Shane Murray?” Ian asked, rubbing his chin. “No, I haven’t.”

“He’s got a daughter.” Dad nodded. “Saoirse, I think her name was. Young, but she’s got to be of age by now.”

“What makes you think Shane would want to offer her up?” I asked. I hardly cared who she was or what she looked like. If she had a pussy I could fuck, then that was all that mattered. It wasn’t like I’d actually be a husband and spend time with her. I had too much shit to do, and once Dad passed, I’d be completely in charge.

“He won’t want to,” Ian said. “Every single Family I’ve contacted, it’s a unanimous rejection.”

I smirked at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Just telling it like it is.”

“I helped Shane Murray years ago. He benefited from the Sullivan protection, and he’s never paid back the debt.”

Now I was intrigued. Maybe this would be the best solution.

“You reach out to Shane Murray,” he told us, “and tell him that he owes me. He owes us a significant sum that he’ll never be able to repay if he lived another hundred years.” Coughing broke up his speech, but he managed to finish after a moment. “Demand that he offer Saoirse in marriage in exchange for his debt.”

I stood, nodding. Saoirse Sullivan. I would make it happen. “I’ll contact him right now.” Ian could handle this chore of correspondence, but I may as well live up to my reputation as a rough, hard asshole every father feared their daughter would meet. If Shane needed some encouragement to go along with this payment plan, it’d be my pleasure to get it done.

Whatever it took. Dad didn’t have much time left with how blue his lips looked and how weak he was to sit upright in bed.

I’d get him a damn heir as soon as possible.

2

CARA

Flies buzzed ahead, and I flapped my work glove to dismiss them as I hurried out of the stables. If I wanted these people at the hospital to take me and my calls seriously, I’d have better luck having this conversation away from the sheep and horses. Bleating and whinnying animals didn’t bother me any, but I doubted this woman from the city would agree.

“Listen. I understand you want me to be patient and wait for?—”

The woman on the other line sighed. “No. You listen, Miss Gallagher. I’ve explained this several times. The policy states that if you miss an appointment?—”

I slapped my gloves to my dusty jeans, gritting my teeth. “But she didn’t! My mother didn’t miss her appointment.”

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