Page 11 of Beyond Rosy Irish Twilight

For just surviving an attempt on my life, he didn’t seem too concerned about my mental wellbeing or what condition I was in. My head was pounding and my body hurt from all the cuts. He had refused medication for me, saying that he didn’t want to risk me getting addicted to painkillers.

I knew better. This was his way of making me pay for my apparent fuck-up.

“You should have stayed with your guards.”

“I did,” I answered, trying my best not to raise my voice to him. I knew better. “When I left the shop, no one was around.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. “I talked to them. They said you ran the minute you got out the door.” He was by my side in a flash, gripping my hair painfully. “Need I remind you what’s at stake if you can’t do as I say?”

I shook my head, wincing at the bite from where my hair pulled at my scalp. My head was already throbbing. I didn’t need him to add to it. “I swear,” I said shakily. “I stepped outside and they weren’t there. The streets were empty!”

He pulled back and backhanded me across the face. My head whipped to the side and the sudden movement made my head pound even more. I moaned slightly, but knew what would happen if I cried out.

Blood dribbled down my chin as tears pricked my eyes. I would not cry. That would only give him the satisfaction of knowing he held all the power here. Besides, he hated tears and that might goad his temper. Not that my father hit me a lot. In fact, it rarely happened, but he didn’t like to be argued with when he was telling me what I did wrong.

“Stupid girl! I warned you about lying to me ever again.”

I nodded quickly, staying completely still otherwise. There was no point in telling him what happened when he wouldn’t listen, and I didn’t particularly want any more fat lips, especially if I was still getting married in a few days.

A knock at the door interrupted him and he stood up straight, adjusting his tie. “Yes?”

“He’s here.”

My father turned back to me. “Your fiancé is here. I suggest you modify your behavior before he comes into this room.”

Again, I nodded and only sank back into the bed when he left the room. I rested my head back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, wondering why the guards would lie about where they were. Then again, why weren’t they there to begin with? They knew better than to defy my father, and leaving me unprotected was as good as a death sentence, so I guess that explained part of it.

My head snapped to the door when I heard the low rumble of Asher’s voice. He sounded pissed, but I had no idea why. I wasn’t even sure why he bothered to come considering he didn’t know me. My father must have put him up to this. The silly girl inside me hoped that he came because he was actually concerned about me, but I knew better. White knights didn’t exist, and I was not the girl that got saved in a fairy tale.

The voices outside the door rose until they finally cut off and the door swung open. I quickly wiped the blood from my lip so he wouldn’t see the fresh damage. I stared at Asher, waiting for him to make the first move. I didn’t know what he thought or expected. I hadn’t spoken to him at all, and the transaction of my marriage didn’t involve me in any way, not even him looking at me for my consent. I just hoped he wasn’t a monster like my father.

As his eyes roamed over my body, taking in the cuts and bruises, I took the opportunity to study him. He was tall, much taller than me, and his long, dark hair hung down around his chin. It was a good look on him, but I didn’t normally go for men with long hair. Then again, he wasn’t my choice.

The longer he stared at me, the more uncomfortable I became. I felt like he was sizing me up, trying to see if I was good enough. That was bad enough coming from my father, but now I’d have the rest of my life to deal with this man? My mother always said you could tell a lot about a man from his eyes. His currently smoldered, and at first, I assumed it was because I had displeased him. But as I looked closer, the look of disgust on his face actually mimicked concern. I hesitated to hope that he was actually worried about me.

I held my breath as his eyes focused on my wrists that weren’t covered by bangles. The white raised lines were clearly from another time, and his jaw clenched hard at the sight. I quickly crossed my arms, not wanting to get into it when my father was just outside the door. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t say anything.

After a long moment, his dark eyes flicked up to meet mine, and when he finally stepped closer to me, his deep voice washed over me like gravel.

“How are you?”

I flinched at the harsh tone, but remembered I was not a woman that cowered to anyone. Well, no one but my father. “Fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Are you in pain?”

“I have cuts all over me and a concussion. What do you think?”

His eyes narrowed at me as he walked over to the computer and started typing on it.

I rolled my eyes at him, thankful he didn’t actually see the defiant act. “It’s password protected—”

But just as I was saying it, the main screen popped up and he was searching for my chart. How the hell had he done that? I didn’t bother to ask. If he could hack into my files, what else could this man do?

“You’re not on any pain meds. Why?” he asked, turning to face me. “Do you have a drug problem?”

My spine prickled with anger. I was used to the accusations from my father, but I really hated that my new fiancé assumed I was a piece of shit too. “No, I don’t have a drug problem.”

“Then why didn’t they give you anything?”

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