I expect her to tell me we aren’t living here after we get married. She wants a penthouse condo that covers an entire floor or a mansion in the suburbs.
Instead, she plops down on the comfy couch and stares out the window at the moon and stars over the lake, not saying anything. Apparently, not hearing her opinion drives me crazier than hearing her whining.
“No snide remarks?” I ask, walking to the kitchen.
“I always knew you were a vampire, so this suits you.”
My lips lift in a small smile hidden by the fridge door as I open it. I grab a tray of meats and cheeses from the fridge, a couple of wine glasses from a cabinet, and a bottle of red from the bar cart before walking back to the couch.
“If I was a vampire, I wouldn’t have the big windows. Vampires can’t walk in the sun.”
“Depends what kind of vampire we’re talking about—sparkly Twilight vampires, sexy Vampire Diaries vampires, or Dracula vampires.” She looks at me for a second. “You’re right. You’re more of a Dracula—we just need to get you a coffin, and you’d be all set.”
I roll my eyes as I set the tray of food down on the ottoman and hand her a glass.
She raises an eyebrow. “You’re serving me more alcohol? I thought you’d lecture me about not getting drunk.”
I remove the cork and pour us both a glass. “You’re already drunk. It doesn’t matter if you have another glass. I need one to get through this conversation. And I don’t want to listen to you complain about how unfair it is that you don’t get to drink if I’m having one. Maybe the cheese and meat tray will offset the alcohol enough for you to listen to me.”
“God, you’re pleasant. I can’t believe no one has wanted to marry you before now.” She grabs a piece of cheese and pops it into her mouth.
I want to respond to her comment, but I’m just happy she’s eating something. I can’t have her pass out before we talk.
I sit down on the couch next to her, trying to keep my blood from boiling. In a normal world, I would have nothing to do with a woman like Rialta. She’s annoying, spoiled, and pretentious. She thinks she’s better than everyone else and doesn’t mind others risking their lives while she lives carelessly.
I don’t know how Corsi expects me to fall in love with her. It’s impossible to love someone who gets under my skin so easily. But I don’t have an option. Finding the man who wants her dead would be just as impossible. I have to at least try to do both. It’s my only chance of surviving.
I should be afraid of Corsi’s threat, but if I fail in my mission, I’d rather die anyway. I need this to work. I can’t fail.
“The recklessness has to stop,” I say in a voice much more serious than I intended, but it grabs her attention in the way I need. This is a serious conversation, and I need her to take it seriously.
“You’re not my father, and I’m not a kid. You can’t just tell me what to do.”
“I’m not telling you what to do. I’m discussing the terms of our arranged marriage with you. And one of my terms is that you can’t be reckless anymore.”
She crosses her arms and tucks her legs under her on the couch, trying to get as far away from me as possible. “So you’re mad about me kissing my boyfriend in front of you and sneaking off with him the other night. I knew you were jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like you risking the lives of people I care about all so you can parade around like the princess you think you are,” I snap.
“I didn’t put anyone else’s life in jeopardy! It was just a kiss!”
My nostrils flare. “It was more than a kiss, and you know that. You hoped that someone would see and they would change Corsi’s mind about our marriage.”
“There is nothing dangerous about that.”
“No, but there are still plenty of people who want you dead. Plenty of men who would force you into a marriage in order to get power. If anyone thinks our marriage isn’t inevitable and completely solid, then you’re at risk. And if you’re at risk, then people I love, people I thought you loved—Ri, Beckett, Hayes, Gage—they are all at risk of having to put their lives on the line to protect you. They are willing to do that. But don’t ask them to when they don’t have to.”
She frowns, tapping her finger nervously against her forearm. I wait for her smart comeback, but it never comes.
“What else?” she finally asks.
“What else what?”
“What else do you want from me in this arrangement? You don’t want me to be reckless. I can’t promise that I won’t be—it’s in my nature. But I do promise I’ll think about how my actions put others in danger.”
I want to argue for more, but this is a concession for her, so for now, it’s enough.
“We get married in a week. No more stunts trying to prevent it from happening. It’s going to happen. Neither of us has a choice, not after your father made the announcement tonight. It will make your father look weak if we back out now, and Corsi can’t afford to look vulnerable.”