Page 23 of The Irish Arrangement

But I didn’t. I wasn’t above fucking her while she was unconscious, but something held me back.

She liked it.

Even though she protested and fought me, I saw and felt the evidence of her arousal.

And that intrigued me. I’d only ever met hardcore whores and escorts who could take it rough and get off like that. Half the time, I suspected that they were faking it just to please me. But Cara hadn’t. She’d dripped for me. She’d clenched around my dick so tightly as she came.

I wanted to take her harder next time, but when I could see how much she wanted. How far she could go in the realm of pain to seek her pleasure.

The whole ride to the family estate, she stared mulishly out the window, refusing to face me at all.

I didn’t care. I hadn’t married her for her company. The idea of a conversation intrigued me, but I bet she gave me the silent treatment to piss me off. Or maybe not. I simply didn’t care. Talk or not. Be happy or not. All that mattered was her ability to give me a son or daughter.

When we arrived, I arranged for another pair of guards to take over her security. It wasn’t only to keep her safe, because as my wife, she would have my enemies by association and would inherently be at risk. She also required a protection detail because she could escape.

No one could understand how important this was. My hopes of giving my father an heir before his death relied on her.

Once she was taken to her wing, an ornately decorated area that was decidedly feminine and would provide all she might want or need, I headed to check on my father.

After his death, this would be my home. It would be my residence to share with Cara and our children. I wouldn’t give up my preferred residence, the mansion where I’d taken Cara last night. It would become more of a vacation home. But it made sense for her to adjust to living here.

For good.

Dad was awake and slightly agitated when I entered his room. Ian sat in the chair next to his bed. Upon my entrance, he nodded once and then sighed.

“You married her?” Dad asked. “You married…” He glanced at Ian as though to confirm the name again.

“Not Saoirse,” Ian replied.

“Cara Gallagher,” I said.

Dad shook his head, grimacing as he tried to sit up more. “I thought I told you to marry the other one. Saoirse.”

“She wasn’t interested.”

“The hell with what she wanted,” Dad thundered.

“Easy, easy,” Ian warned carefully as Dad fell into a fitful coughing spell.

“And I wasn’t interested,” I added. One look at Saoirse and I wasn’t intrigued. Not that it mattered whether I was. But the first glance at Cara’s stubborn glare, and I knew she was the one I’d take home. “While it was news to me that Murray had an estranged daughter, she fit the bill.”

And the fucker had some kind of leverage to force her to go along with the wedding.

“I showed him the birth certificate copy.” Ian pointed at it on the side table.

“And I fear you’ve only found cause for a war,” Dad muttered.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out what he meant by that.

“Nora Gallagher.” Dad picked up the certificate and furrowed his brow. “Supposedly a ‘nobody’.”

Ian nodded. “From what I’ve seen, she is no one special.”

I believed him. Shane Murray had surprised us both yesterday with this secret daughter being revealed in the nick of time. And I had no doubt that Ian had researched Cara and her legitimacy as Shane’s daughter right away. He was the office man. He handled those sorts of affairs. The guy had probably stayed up late looking into Cara’s family history.

“Perhaps not,” Dad grumbled, frowning at me. “Nora might be an illegitimate daughter of a member from the Boyle Family.”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. “A Boyle?” Cara is a distant relation of our biggest enemy?

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