I closed my eyes momentarily, pivoting to face the forthcoming admonishment. "I am saying this not as your leader but as your father."
Bracing myself, I awaited the reprimand about to unfold. "She really hurt your sister. Ember is going to be so upset if she finds out about this."
A deep sigh escaped me. "I know."
The situation loomed, and I had yet to devise a plan to navigate the complexities it entailed. "Please don’t tell her. Let me come up with a way to tell her."
"Son, if she's your wife, she will be around, especially with the family. You know your sister will be involved."
Once more, I confronted the reality of my neglect, a stark acknowledgment of the consequences I had chosen to disregard.
My father's words cut through the tension, his voice carrying the weight of paternal concern. "Walsh"—his tone a mix of disappointment and firmness—"if I've taught you anything, it's that family should always come first."
I let out an exasperated sigh, my annoyance bubbling to the surface. "I know, Dad," I replied, the strain evident in my voice. The delicate dance between family loyalty and the unraveling circumstances with her proved more challenging than I had anticipated.
He placed a firm hand on my shoulder, his gaze searching mine. "Your sister is going to be hurt if she finds out about this on her own. It's best to be honest and face the consequences as a family. I’ll set up an introductory dinner with the whole family. You both will need to attend, and I'll push it out a week from now. You need to tell Ember before the dinner. Do not blindside her."
"I'll handle it," I asserted, my mind already calculating the best approach to mitigate the fallout. However, out of the corner of my eye, distraction arrived in the form of Madison emerging from the hot tub.
She moved with a sensual grace, water droplets clinging to her skin, amplifying the allure of her figure. Her fiery red hair, now tousled from the water, framed a face that held a mix of defiance and intrigue. Green eyes, vibrant and unyielding, met mine as she wrapped a towel around her waist.
Caught between familial responsibilities and the magnetic pull she effortlessly exerted, I found myself momentarily speechless. My father sensing my unease seemed to break the tension by clapping me on the back.
"Well, let me go out and meet your new bride." He practically pushed me aside, and before I could contest, he was already out of the office and down the hallway opening the large door that led to the yard.
"Father," I called after him, my voice alerting Madison he was coming, and she looked up from where she was toweling off.
She glanced at my father who was practically barreling toward her, then back at me. When she saw the hesitant look I knew was written all over my face, she dropped her towel and sauntered toward my father in only her bikini. I peered in closer. No. She was in her fucking bra.
"Hi Mr. Solis. It’s so nice to?—"
"Enough." He didn't bother shaking the hand that she’d extended for him. "I know who you are."
I waited to spot an ounce of hesitation on her face, and nothing.
"Before you interrupted me, I was going to let you know it is so nice to see you again."
I paused. My dad paused. You could hear the water dripping from her hair as she leaned down to grab the towel, then wrapped it around her chest.
The audacity. Madison Ryan—er, Solis—just called out her father-in-law, one of the most powerful men in the entire community, if not the entire country. With one snap of his finger, her neck could be broken.
There was quite a long pause before a smile cracked on my father’s face. He turned to me. "I can see the allure."
I slid up next to her, wrapped my hands around her waist, and pulled her into my side.
She stared in my direction, and for my father’s sake, and admittedly maybe for my own curiosity, I looked into her eyes. A slight nod of appreciation for not pulling away was the only thing I gave her before we turned our attention back to my father.
"Madison, you must be so cold. We should go inside and warm up," I offered, then gestured inside, leading us back. My hand dropped down to Madison’s, and she interlocked our fingers as her other hand held her towel.
The gesture made my heart, the piece that twitched when I first met her, tug again. It was the first time we’d ever been romantic with each other, but we were playing a role. Although I wanted to strip her naked and slap her pretty pussy until she begged for my cock to fill her up for being a brat, I opted for the charade of a devoted husband—for now.
My dad barged into the scene, cutting through my illicit thoughts. I discreetly adjusted myself, and Madison, the wicked enchantress, gazed up at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes, well aware of the predicament she stirred.
"I hear you'll be joining us for the holiday dinner," my father declared, unknowingly breaking the tension. My mind raced, but Madison, ever the master of her alternate persona, responded coolly, concealing the turmoil within.
"Really?" she chimed in, her voice carrying an air of nonchalance, her second-skin persona firmly in place. To others, she exuded calm, but I, the unwelcome spectator to her internal tempest, knew better.
"Yes. You'll attend the holiday party, and we'll announce your marriage. After that, my son here will have to address his 'problem' with the Irish before they lose their minds," my father explained, laying out the agenda.