Page 97 of Vengeful Union

I grab the back of his head, kissing him deeply, and we end up making out like teenagers for a while, smiling and touching each other softly, no lust involved.

When I’m lying with my head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat still too fast, he puts his arm around me, resting his hand on my hip.

“There’s nothing we can do about my mother. She’s gone, either way, and I can’t focus on that right now. We just have to stay the course. Have to keep going.”

I nod, my eyes drooping because I haven’t slept. “And after? When it’s over?”

“When it’s over, we’ll be together for real.”

I can’t help but smile as my eyes close.

When I wake, Rory’s not in bed when I reach for him. I clutch the empty sheets with my eyes closed, frowning.

“I’m right here, honey,” he calls, and when I look up, he’s fully dressed, wearing what appears to be a silk button-up shirt and a pair of gray, tailored slacks.

I can’t help looking him up and down, and he laughs at the expression on my face.

“Get dressed.”

I frown again, sitting up and drawing the covers around me. “Why? Not like we can go anywhere.”

Rory gives me a small smile. “Sure we can. You’re my wife, and I'm Rory Murphy. I can do what I want."

“But your father?—"

“Fuck my father. He let you go out to the gala. And you’ll be safe with me.”

I can’t help but grin as excitement rushes through my veins. “You called me your wife.”

“That’s what you are, aren’t you?” He comes toward me, caging me in with his arms as he climbs on the bed. “Now, get up, wife. Let’s go on a date. We’re doing it right this time.”

I giggle, feeling giddy, and wiggle from under his arms, padding naked to the closet and picking out an outfit—a pair of high-waisted black shorts and a sleeveless top, a turtleneck that shows off my long neck.

Rory walks up behind me as I slip on my shoes at the door, grabbing me around the waist and nipping at my neck through the fabric.

I moan softly and tilt my head back for better access, but when his hands tighten around my waist, I pull away.

Rory makes a growling sound in the back of his throat, and I laugh.

“We’ll never leave if you keep doing that, and I want out of this house.”

He chuckles low in his chest. “I bet you do.”

Rory takes my hand, and we head out of the mansion, not running into anyone, surprisingly. All of Niall’s men must be at their posts, watching over the gate.

In the car, Rory puts his hand high up on my bare thigh, squeezing the flesh there, and it makes me shiver.

It’s oddly exhilarating, being out with him in public. We’ve never done this, except for at the gala, and that was mostly Murphy’s men and other gangsters.

There’s something wonderful about being on his arm, being shown off.

He pulls out of the gate and onto the street, and I look out the window, a permanent smile on my face.

Rory loves me. He really wants to be my husband, and despite our situation with Niall, I’m happy for the first time in a long time.

Rory and I chat as we drive down the street near the mansion, but he suddenly goes silent as we stop at a red light, his eyes glued to the rearview mirror.

I look over at him, frowning, and I open my mouth to ask him what’s wrong when the car behind us slams into the bumper.

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