Page 22 of Brutal Savage

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“Oh, come on, princess. Don’t act so prudish,” he purrs, fingers trailing down my ribcage to my hips. Goosebumps erupt wherever he touches me. “I’m sure you’ve had some fun already.” The truth flashes across my face before I can stop it. His eyes narrow. “Unless…that’s not true, is it?”

I flinch as he pulls away, studying me.

“You’re a virgin.”

For some reason, those words make me feel defensive. “So what? Who even cares about all that?”

He laughs, but it sounds dark and bitter. “Your father has no idea what he’s doing giving his little lamb to a man like me.” Turning away, he barks, “Get dressed. We’re done here.”

For a minute, I can’t move, the cold glass of the mirror pressing against my back. When he notices I haven’t gone back in to change, he turns, assessing me. “Go and change, Cara. You told me I can’t touch you until we’re married—and I’ll keep that promise. But not if you stay in that.”

My cheeks burn as I scurry back into the changing room, whipping the cloth shut between us. His words echo in my head.

Not if you stay in that…

One minute, he’s taunting me, just begging me to hate him. And the next, he says something like that. I don’t know what game he’s playing now. But I don’t like it.

9

KILLIAN

True to their word, Sienna and Dante bumped up our engagement party. Once the details were finalized, they convinced Callahan that this sham of a marriage should happen much sooner than we’d originally planned. Apparently, Callahan was just as anxious to marry off his daughter as my brother and his wife were. I almost felt bad for Cara.

Almost.

But after teasing me like that before telling me I couldn’t touch her, she sort of deserves this. Fuck, just thinking of her in that skimpy lingerie almost wants me to just say fuck it and marry the girl tomorrow. I’m sure she noticed the desire in my eyes when she came out. I hadn’t been prepared for how I’d react to seeing her in it. To me, she should be just like any other girl who’s tried to impress me. But turns out—she isn’t.

I don’t know what it is about her—the fact that she’s sworn I wouldn’t touch her, let alone kiss her until death do us part, or the fact that she’s my enemy—but she’s tempting. Too tempting. Which makes me hate this little arrangement even more than before. I don’t want to be tempted. I don’t want anything to do with her.

Handing the keys over to the valet, I jog up the steps to the reception hall. I’m pretty surprised at how fast Sienna managed to put this all together. As soon as I walk through the double doors, I’m greeted by a crowd of guests in cocktail dresses and suits. A crystal chandelier hangs over our heads, illuminating the entire foyer with a golden glow. White marble stretches from the front doors towards the back. On either side, four enormous wooden doors open to the individual halls, though ours is the only event for tonight.

I’m late, as usual, though I’m sure Sienna planned for that. Weaving through the crowd, there are a few faces I recognize tonight, though I don’t see Dante or Sienna. Or Cara. Maybe she won’t show up.A guy can hope.

“There’s our little groom,” Declan sidles up next to me, throwing an arm over my shoulders. His movement nearly spills the beer in his glass.

I grab it and chug, ignoring his protests. “Thanks,” I tell him, handing it back, “I needed that.”

“Don’t go too hard tonight,” Cain says, eyeing me. “Or a certain sister-in-law will have your head.”

“Well, then she shouldn’t force me to come to these things,” I bite back.

“It’s not too bad.” Archer looks around approvingly. “I think she did a spectacular job with the decor.”

“Where’s the bar?” I ask, ignoring him.

This engagement party reminds me of when Dante first got engaged to Sienna. I’d barged in, drunk off my ass, with a girl on each arm just to piss off my father. And Dante, if I’m being honest. I hated the lying, how fake everything was. Back then, Dante was just as excited about marrying his sworn enemy as I am now. Obviously, they worked shit out, but I doubt it would be the same for Cara and me.

Which, speaking of the little angel…

Cara stands beside her father, a thin champagne glass between her slender fingers. She’s wearing black tonight, though it’s not the same dress she wore when we first met at The Salamander. This one is more modest, with a square neckline and half-sleeves that drape over her arms. The waist cinches over her hips, a pleated skirt falling to her knees. Her long dark hair falls in waves down her back, pinned back on one side with a diamond clip. A simple gold necklace falls just above her collarbones. Paired with some sensible black heels and she’s the epitome of innocence. I thought it had all been a ruse. Daddy’s Little Girl type shit. But apparently, I was wrong.

I get why we’re doing this. I know our family needs to rebuild its strength without having to worry about enemies lurking around every corner. The Irish might not have been at the top, but they have resources we can use to defend ourselves. If I was more like Sienna, or Dante even, I’d understand it completely.

But I’m not. And I never will be.

“Aren’t you going to go kiss your bride-to-be hello?” Declan asks slyly. “Because, if you don’t, I will.”

I move before I realize what I’m doing. Gripping the front of his tux, I haul him closer. Beer spills down the side of the glass and over his hand. “Touch her, and you’re fucking dead.”


Tags: Ana West Romance