Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)(12)

His lips curve upward at the edges. “You’re not the only one in this family who’s a good liar.”

Then he turns on his heel and locks himself in his office, leaving Lili and me alone in the hallway, her anguished wails echoing off the walls.





4





Spider





The moment we pull out of Caruso’s driveway, Kieran starts to laugh.

“What are you cackling about, you bloody gombeen?”

He snorts. “Only yerself, wearin’ a face that would drive rats from a barn when ye first met Mr. Goodfellas back there. I thought ye were gonna slap him silly!”

“Aye. Almost did. I’ve never met such a tool in my life.”

Kieran pounds a fist on the steering wheel in glee. “Ah, it was grand! Him almost soilin’ his knickers every time you took a breath, bowin’ and scrapin’ like he had an audience with the bloody Queen of England. Nearly had a nervous breakdown, he did. I can’t wait to tell Declan all about it. Pure craic.”

He sighs happily, shaking his head, then suddenly turns serious.

“Ach, but the sister was a fine thing, eh? A trifle scary, what with how much she wanted to outright slaughter ye, but fine nonetheless.” He whistles low. “Wouldn’t want to get on that woman’s bad side, but I’d pay a pretty penny to see her in her kex! Got chubbed up just lookin’ at her.”

You’re not the only one. My dick is still rock-hard.

“Put a sock in it, mate. I’ve got a brutal headache.”

He ignores me.

“I feel awful bad for the wee cailin, though. The poor sweet lass. Imagine havin’ the kind of father who’d trot out his own bairn to be sold like a prize pony!”

He makes a sound of disgust. “But I suppose it’s their way, isn’t it? Savages, the whole lot. Well, good riddance to those Italian buggers and that pile of shite they call home. Glad we’re seein’ the last of ’em.”

“We’re not seeing the last of them.”

Startled, Kieran looks over at me. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean I signed the contract. Liliana and I will be married in thirty days.”

Kieran almost drives off the road. He shouts, “Are ye off your rocker?”

“Watch out for that light pole.”

He veers sharply back to the center of the lane, cursing under his breath, then starts in on me again.

“Ye can’t be serious, Spider! The idea of marryin’ into that family is entirely daft!”

“Why is it daft?”

“Did ye not just attend the same bloody meeting I did? Caruso’s a colossal lickarse! The sister wants to cut out yer tongue! They live in a place with scenes hand-painted on the walls of fairies and devils effin’ each other!”

He’s so worked up, I wouldn’t be surprised if his head exploded.

“None of that matters. Lili’s a sweet lass. She’ll make a fine wife. And the terms of the contract are excellent. I’m going ahead with it.”

I close my eyes and rest my head on the back of the seat so I don’t have to see Kieran gaping at me.

I can still hear him, however, sputtering in protest.

“But…did you even like the wee lass? I mean…were you attracted to her?”

No. Which is why it’s so perfect. The last thing I want is a wife I’m attracted to.

Like Reyna, for instance.

I’d never be able to focus on anything else if I were married to a woman like that. All I’d be able to think about would be that fine arse and those gorgeous tits and holding her down so I could shove my hard cock inside her beautiful wet cunt.

It’s already difficult not to think about it, and I only met her an hour ago.

“Unbelievable,” Kieran mutters.

“Don’t say it.”

“This is about Riley, isn’t it?”

“I said, don’t say it. Drop the bloody topic.”

He ignores that as well, as I knew he would.

“Yer a right prick to marry a lass to try to get over a different one!”

My sigh is heavy. I open my eyes and look at him. “I’m not trying to get over her, I’m already over her. But thank you for your unsolicited opinion. Now shut your gob. You’re making my headache worse.”

Kieran huffs. “Jesus, God, and all the saints. Ye stubborn barmy bastard.”

“If it makes you feel any better, arsehole, think of it this way: at least with me, the lass will have her own bloody life. If she married one of her own kind, she’d be chained to a stove in the kitchen. Or worse, chained to a bed and forced to be a baby-making machine.”

He eyes me. “Uh-huh. And what about the baby makin’ between the two of ye?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if yer not attracted to the lass, how’re ye gonna get yer flute to play a tune for her?”

Maybe I’ll think about her homicidal aunt.

I close my eyes and rest my head on the back of the seat again.

There’s a long, loaded pause. “Ye can’t be tellin’ me yer not gonna have sex with yer own wife.”

“She’s only eighteen fucking years old. I’d feel like a pedophile.”