“I like her.”
Conor’s declaration had me raising a brow, especially as it had tapped into what I was already thinking. “You do?”
“I think you do too,” he countered, ignoring my question. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have broken Vasov’s shoulder—”
“I didn’t break it. I dislocated it.”
“Well, by the time Da was done with the story, you’d dislocated it, broken it, and incapacitated him for life.”
Despite myself, I had to chuckle. Sure, I was still pissed at my father—last week’s beating had bruised my ego—but you had to appreciate a man who’d kissed the Blarney stone without ever having set foot in Ireland.
“Well, I didn’t. He’ll heal. More than the fucker deserves.”
“What happened?”
“He beat Inessa.”
Conor whistled. “Your hotspot.”
“Yeah,” I rumbled. “Anyway, can I leave this in your hands?”
“Of course,deartháir,” he said softly, evidently sensing my irritation had surged again, trying to appease me.
Not a one of us was truly Irish. Only Brennan had visited the old country, but it was in our bones. Our blood. We only used Gaelic at heightened moments, and that Conor used it then?
Told me he understood.
I bit the inside of my cheek, then muttered, “Wish me luck.”
“Da isn’t the only one who kissed the Blarney stone at birth.” That our thoughts were attuned once more made my lips twitch. The whole birds of a feather thing usually pissed me off, but today, Conor was right on the money. “You’ll talk your way out of it,” he stated confidently.
I didn’t reply, just mumbled, “Later,” and cut the call.
Maybe he was right, but the difference was, I didn’t want to talk my way out of shit.
Inessa deserved an explanation, but what could I say? She knew this world, knew how it worked…
I blew out a breath, then twisted around and decided to get this over and done with.
Tonight was going to end a lot shittier than I’d imagined. I’d had two willing women waiting on me when I came up here—Inessa had warmed up after Declan and I had encouraged a couple of glasses of wine down her throat over the course of the day. Not enough to incapacitate, but enough to relax her—and then Leticia. Now? I had zero.
“Fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath, before I inhaled and went to atone for a sin I hadn’t even fucking committed.
If this was marriage, it already goddamn sucked.
INESSA
As I stared in the mirror, I was surprised by what I saw, even if the bruises weren’t new to me.
I’d known when I walked through the door that this space was Eoghan’s bedroom, and seeing all the female shit in here had twisted my guts, but I wasn’t about to complain, even if the sight surprised me. I couldn’t easily imagine Eoghan sharing his space with anyone—he was too self-contained—but I was too grateful for the makeup products to get snippy over it.
Over the length of the day, the makeup plastered on my face made me feel like I was slicked in oil, and the tender flesh beneath had started to throb, reminding me of the pain I was in.
So, here I stood, having used my new husband’s mistress’s makeup remover, in my wedding dress, bruises on full display.
I was making a statement.
I knew that.