Page 54 of Dirty Eoin

She turns her attention back to Da. “I decide if and when the marriage is ever consummated.”

He stares at her for a time before nodding. “Agreed. And the next.”

“I decide when it gets publicly announced.”

He exhales in frustration, obviously not pleased with the second condition. “Agreed. And the last?”

“I can be granted an annulment to the marriage provided my request is made within the first six months of the event taking place.”

Is Jaine trying to make a mockery of me or of the act itself? She’s fully aware that an annulment goes against all of our beliefs. Marriage is a sacred union. It’s for life in our religion, hence why it’s not something that’s ever entered into lightly.

We all stare at Da. He knows I’ll carry out his wishes, as is my duty. Will he or won’t he accept a condition that goes against his own faith? By accepting all three, he’s effectively agreeing to me having a temporary, paper wife.

“Agreed.” It’s said with reluctance.

CHAPTERTWENTY

JAINE

Jaine’s Apartment, Upper East Side, New York

“Doyou know what you’re doing, Jainie?”

“I have a tentative plan that I’m not going to share with anyone.” I answer Duke honestly, albeit distractedly while slowly pacing the floor.

Yesterday, I agreed to marry Eoin O’Connell. Right call. Wrong call. Guess it’s way too late for second thoughts.

“Not even me?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Not even you.” I shoot him an apologetic look.

“You do realize you’re effectively signing yourself up to becoming the next Ma Duster.”

“I know what I’m doing, Duke.”

“Do you? From where I’m sitting, it sure as hell seems like it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

I frown. “It was, sort of, and then it all fell into place in my head.”

I can’t tell him that I’ve decided to do something useful with my grief. That I’m going to channel all that negative energy into something way more positive and way more satisfying.

Revenge. Delivering karma personally.

Eoin and I are on a promise, after all.

He stands up from the sofa, walks across, then pulls me against him in a vice-like hug, no doubt to put an end to my constant pacing. Closing my eyes, I press my nose to his cream cotton shirt, welcoming the familiar smell of his cologne and cigars. He’s taken to not wearing a cut these days now he’s living in New York.

I miss the smell of leather.

I miss Ace.

“So long as you’re sure, Jainie. I’ll support whatever decision you make. You know that.”

He retakes his seat while letting out a small sigh. Meanwhile, I resume my pacing. He’s trying his best not to show it, but he’s worried about me. He likely thinks I’m making a hasty decision.

I’m not.

My reasons for doing what I’m about to are valid.

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