Page 46 of The Irish Arrangement

“You could’ve been hurt.”

She shrugged, smirking at me as we walked back toward the house. “So? I’m not pregnant right now. What does it matter?”

I gritted my teeth, pissed at her reply. I hated that she’d even think that, much less say it. I couldn’t lose the thought that she did matter. Maybe as more than just a woman to give me an heir.

“Tell me more about yourself, Cara.” It seemed safer and more normal to make a demand of her rather than to open up and confess how quickly she was coming to matter. First, she’d blown me away when I fucked her last week. Then, I fell into the habit of thinking about her and missing her submission, wishing for it again. Now, I had a deeper look into what kind of a generous, compassionate woman she was to protect an animal.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to make a difference whether you know a million little facts about me or you delegate me to be a figure in your home.”

“Don’t tell me what matters and what doesn’t. I’ll decide that.”

She shook her head, gracefully walking through the wet grass. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m nothing more than a brood mare. A vessel. A body to carry your heir.”

At the double doors to the house, she pushed inside with pent-up anger. “So, like I said before, you may as well get it over with and then disappear again.”

Is that what she thinks? That I want to leave after fucking her? I had to work and tend to business. If I had the choice, I’d lie around with her wrapped around my dick all day long.

Annoyed that I wanted to fuck her not only for an heir but to sample her submission again, I hurried after her as she rushed up the stairs. She wouldn’t have the last word.

“Disappearing?” I snapped.

She shot me a look as she walked up the stairs.

“I disappear to do business.”

Her hand shot up. “I don’t want to know.”

“And my so-called disappearing acts are good for you, too.”

We reached the top of the stairs. She’d go to the right to her wing, and I’d go straight to mine. At a stalemate, we faced each other off here.

“What?” She shook her head.

“My wives don’t tend to last long,” I deadpanned. “Especially when they’re in my company.”

And it was true. After Caitlin died, I asked Dad if I could just hire a hooker and knock her up for an heir. He said no, that it had to be someone within the Mob world. And that was that. Besides, I doubted even a hooker would agree to it. I wasn’t ashamed of being a hard man, a killer, but it warded off my prospects.

I frowned at Cara’s reaction. I realized she didn’t scare easily, but I didn’t expect her to roll her eyes. “I’m not going to kill myself,” she drawled.

“You know about Caitlin?”

Crossing her arms, she studied me. “Yeah. Riley got chatty earlier. She told me about Erin too.”

I rubbed my jaw, hating that Cara would see how much I needed her to stick now. I didn’t want her to ever think she could hold anything against me. Realizing that I was coming to… like her was bad to begin with.

“Caitlin preferred death over being my wife.”

She narrowed her eyes. “While I’m inclined to admit you are an asshole, I suspect she might have had more reasons than that.”

“But I’m not bad enough to scare you off?”

“Like I’ve had a choice? You only let me outside just now.” She pressed her lips together, looking at me seriously. “Besides, I’ve got too much to worry about to bother with something like taking the easy way of escaping life.”

I didn’t understand. She had nothing to do here. She didn’t have to work. She wasn’t forced to do anything except welcome my cock into her pussy and hope my cum stuck enough to make a baby.

Her wording, and the sober tone, made me realize that she’d suffered before. She’d struggled through life to shape that hard, jaded comment. As I let that fact sink in, I wished it weren’t so.

Something got to me about this woman, bold and beautiful, and brave too.

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