Page 50 of Dearly Betrayed

He snaps off the light.

“You don’t have to turn in,” I murmur.

But he’s already putting away his phone. “I was waiting for you.”

“What’s with this bedtime obsession?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us and maybe I was too quick to write you off. I saw you as the enemy. But you aren’t.”

“I’m still the enemy.” I’m tempted to mention the stolen documents, but this time I’m able to hold my stupid tongue. “Don’t get any ideas.”

He shifts closer. “What sort of ideas might that be?”

“Imagine there’s a wall here.” I draw a line down the middle of the bed. He’s dangerously close to crossing it. “You can’t get over. I can’t get over. Nothing passes through. Understand?”

“No, thank you.” He obliterates my imaginary blockade and shifts nearer, pressing his body to mine.

I don’t move. Instead of putting up space, I go still. My fight-or-flight response chooses freeze. He’s breathing slow and steady as he wraps an arm across my middle and tugs me closer. The man’s so warm, so big and hard. I’m nearly squirming and hating myself for how much I like this.

“I believe you,” I say, whispering into the darkness, afraid to look at him. “About my family. About who started the war. I believe you.”

“I know.” His mouth is at my neck. Warm and soft. Just breathing, for now.

“Which complicates things.”

“As if we needed more complications.”

“Would you move away?”

“No, thank you.”

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m sorry about your friend. Alright?”

He goes still. His breath stops for a moment before restarting after a couple seconds. “Thank you.”

“You’re not sorry about my dad?”

“I told you I wasn’t.”

“You asshole.”

“I’m not going to lie to you and say whatever you want to hear. Your father made his decisions.”

I close my eyes, trying to keep myself under control. I feel dizzy, torn in half, part of me wanting to elbow him in the guts, and the other wanting to throw myself into his arms. My nipples are stiff and I’m thinking of his fingers between my legs and his mouth licking me, making me scream.

He was right about me earlier. About my sheltered life. All I’ve known is the clan. Aside from my time at college, my world was tiny, basically just a few blocks of Dublin, controlled by the aunts and uncles and cousins, monitored by my father. This is the first time in my life I feel as though I’m free to do what I want, which is ironic considering I’m more of a captive than I’ve ever been.

“If I tell you something, I don’t want you to make me regret it.” I’m breathing fast. I feel stupid, but this is what I’m supposed to want.

“Go ahead.”

“I want you to do something for me.”

“Say it.”

“We’re here in bed together. We’re married, and I’m thinking.” I chew on my lip, my mouth watering.

He sits up on an elbow and looks at me. “Say it, Fallon.”

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