“You’re looking awfully hard at your bride, for a marriage of convenience,” Jacob says in a low voice next to me, laughter in his tone. I glare at him.
“I’d look at any woman shaped like that.”
“Well, luckily for you, this one’s your wife. Enjoy it,” Jacob suggests, and I’m on the verge of telling him to keep his opinions to himself when Saoirse dives into the pool, the sparkling water parting as seamlessly for her as her legs did for me last night.
She surfaces, glancing over to where a group of younger men—a handful of sons of the Kings who came to this gathering with the understanding that we’d be talking no business today, as Graham warned me in advance—are treading water and splashing each other. They all look to be about Saoirse’s age or a bit younger, and I can see them sneaking glances at her breasts, the smooth lines of her body underneath the water.
That irritates me enough, seeing other men looking at my wife, but when she laughs at something one of them says, and then tosses her head back, splashing another playfully as she giggles, I’ve had enough.
I grit my teeth, about to stand and do something about it, when I hear Viktor’s voice coming from my left.
“We have a meeting tomorrow, Connor? Or did you change your mind about taking your lovely wife on a honeymoon?”
“A honeymoon would be idiotic, when so much is at stake right now,” I say tersely. “Yes, there’s a meeting. Early in the morning, as Saoirse and I need to start moving into our new home tomorrow as well.”
“Oh, stop talking business,” Caterina says, slapping her husband’s arm playfully. She has a black cover-up on over her bathing suit—likely on account of her scars, though she’s lovely regardless—but I can see the faint hint of her pregnancy beneath it, just as Sofia’s slight swell is visible where her stomach is bare in her red bikini.
Something about the thought of Saoirse’s slender body with that slight swell makes my cock throb, twitching in my swim trunks as I try to redirect my thoughts before I end up with an erection in front of my business associates and Saoirse’s family.
That possessive desire surges through me, though, only intensifying when I glance back over to the pool and see Saoirse still laughing with the group of younger men, splashing them once more before swimming away as they follow her with what looks to me like hungry gazes.
My jealousy from this morning flares up again. It’s one thing for men to look at her—she’s beautiful, undeniably—but another for her to encourage it.She’s still mine,I think angrily.She won’t be shared yet. Not until she fulfils her part of our deal.
Before I can think about what I’m doing I’m on my feet, headed for the pool and splashing down into it, headed straight for Saoirse. Her back is to me, and she yelps as I grab her waist, spinning her around to face me in the water.
“I’m sorry,” I say icily. “Did I interrupt your flirting?”
“My wha—oh god, Connor, seriously?” She glares at me, flicking her damp ponytail to one side. “I wasn’t fucking flirting.”
“Laughing? Giggling? Playing in the water?” My tone darkens, my gaze holding hers even as I feel myself starting to get hard. Her skin feels smooth and warm under my hands, and I squeeze her a little tighter, pulling her with me towards one unoccupied side of the pool. It looks to anyone else like we’re swimming, playing even as Saoirse wriggles in my grasp, but as I sit on the ledge in the water and hold her in place in front of me, I can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s feeling anything but playful.
“For someone who’s insisting on a loveless marriage of convenience, you’re awful jealous,” Saoirse snaps, still trying to get out of my grasp. I hold her tightly, though, enjoying the feeling of my wife’s half-naked body under my hands.
“I’m not jealous,” I insist. “Just possessive of what’s mine.”
“Yours until I give you an heir,” Saoirse reminds me sharply. “Besides, I have no interest in them—”
“Oh? They were certainly looking at you.” One of my hands slides lower, to her hip, moving around to grab her ass. “They wanted you.”
“I don’t care.”
“You weren’t enjoying the attention?” My fingers slide around, teasing between her ass through the bikini. “You weren’t thinking about what it might be like to have one of them fuck you?”
“You’re way more obsessed with other men fucking me than I am,” Saoirse snaps, wrenching away. I almost lose my grip on her slippery body, but I manage to hold on, pulling her closer as I hold her with both hands on her waist again. “Just admit you’re fucking jealous!”
“I’m not jealous,” I growl.
“Then admit you want me.” She tosses her head. “Admit you’re just being stubborn with this whole thing—”
“You wantme,” I snap. “You toldmeto giveyoupleasure last night, to ‘fuck you and make it good,’ as I recall. I offered to get it over with.”
“That was last night,” Saoirse sniffs. “We’re moving on, aren’t we? Especially after your little performance this morning—”
“My ‘little performance’ at finding another man’s name on your phone?”
“There’s that jealousy again—” She tries to wriggle out of my hands once more, but I just pull her closer, my right hand sliding down her thigh to slip my fingers under the edge of her bikini bottoms.
“Connor!” Saoirse squeaks in alarm. “Someone will see—”