Page 41 of Reckless Promises

Cillian is seated behind a large mahogany desk, in his usual dress shirt and slacks. His top two buttons are popped open, and his sleeves are rolled up. His dark hair’s messy like he’s been stressed, running his fingers throughit. And propped against his desk is a woman who might as well have been cut from a magazine.

Her white-blonde hair is perfectly straight, and her sharp blue eyes cut to me the moment the door opens. She lifts off the desk to turn and face me, skimming me from head to toe when she does. And it isn’t until her eyes pause on my very short nightgown that I wish I’d changed into something with a little more coverage.

“Sorry.” I take a step back. “We can talk later.”

It’s pathetic. I’m a coward. He’s my husband, and I should be able to talk with him whenever I want. But this foreign thing that takes residence inside me at the sight of him alone with another woman has me taking another step back.

This might not be a traditional marriage, but he made vows to me that felt genuine. And even if I should know better when I’ve seen how men like him treat their wives, I was dumb enough to think he wouldn’t immediately turn me into my mother.

Clearly, I couldn’t have been more wrong, given he didn’t come to bed last night and this woman might be the reason.

Now it makes sense why he has no interest in touching me.

I’m his enemy’s daughter. I disgust him. And he has much prettier options.

“Odette, come in.” Cillian stands, planting his hands on his desk and pinning me with an angry gaze as his stare moves down to where my robe is peeling open.

I’m not sure why he thinks he has the right to be pissed off at me, so all his glare does is make me angrier.

“This is Odette?” The woman steps forward, smiling not-so-sweetly as she approaches. “The new wife.”

I don’t like how she says it. How she walks toward me like she’s clearly the winner between us. I don’t like anything about her.

I still remember the women my father brought around while my mom pretended not to notice. They always looked at her like they knew they were better because she might have been his wife, but she didn’t interest him like they did. And it’s the same look this woman is giving me now.

“And you are?” I roll my shoulders back.

“Michelle.” She reaches out a hand, and instead of backing down, I reach out and shake it. “Maeve’s secretary.”

Maeve, as in Cillian’s mother. Which means I’ll probably be seeing a lot of Michelle.

“I’ve heard so much about you.” Michelle squeezes my hand, her smile shifting into a glare when she releases it.

“I’ve heard nothing about you. But I’m sure I will.” I cross my arms over my chest and stare her down.

Cillian and I might not have married for love, but he vowed his loyalty nonetheless. And unlike my mother, I have no problem reminding him of that. If he thinks I’ll sit quietly while he parades other women in front of my face, he’s wrong.

“Deliver the message, Michelle,” Cillian says, his eyes still fixed on me. “We’re done here.”

She rolls her eyes, but her back is to him, so he doesn’t see it. Offering me a final, curt nod, she leaves.

“Shut the door, Odette.” Cillian watches me, still not flinching, and looking angrier by the second.

I back up to push it closed, glaring at him. “Happy?”

He hums, reaching under his desk to push a button that has a lock clicking on the door behind me.

It might scare me if this entire manor wasn’t already my jail cell.

Pressing my back against the door, I stare Cillian down. He might be known for his lack of weaknesses, but I don’t blink as I face him. If Cillian wants to play dirty, then game on.

15

Odette

“Nice outfit.” Cillian sinksback into his chair, stretching his arms over the armrests.

“Nice guest.”

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