“Well. Okay, then. What about these grounds?”
“You live here, now, Aileen,” he says, his green eyes holding my gaze. “You’re my wife. That grants you freedom and privileges unlike most here, save Caitlin. She’s wife to the Chief. But you’ll like her, lass. Behave yourself and you might get along.”
I huff out in indignation. “I typically behave myself,” I tell him. “For goodness sakes, I’m not a child.”
“You only play one on the telly?” His eyes twinkle, but I’m not amused.
“Oh, shut it.”
He wags a finger in my direction. “Careful, lass. Watch that smart mouth.”
“Or what?” I throw back. I know damn well or what but I feel like pushing him. I want to make him say it. Maybe if he says it out loud he’ll realize what an overbearing ogre he is.
“Really, now,” he says. He lifts his leather belt from the dresser, but doesn’t thread it through the loops on his trousers quite yet. He forms a loop with it, tugs the folded end, and snaps it. “Do you need me to say?”
I swallow hard and sigh. “Yes.”
He smiles, but it’s condescending, not amused. “If you mouth off to me, sweetheart, your arse meets my palm. Or my belt, as it were. As mine, you’ll do as I say and show respect. And in time, you’ll learn what’s expected of you.”
I don’t like this one bit, but I suppose it’s fruitless arguing the point.
“Does Caitlin have the same rules, or is it just me because I’m new?”
“It doesn’t interest me what rules my brother has for his wife, but I’ll tell you this. All the men of The Clan are heads of their own houses. It’s how things have always been and always will be.”
“That’s backwards.”
He shrugs. “Call it what you will, it’s part of our code. We protect and care for our own. And in turn, we ask you grant us that privilege.”
Well, that’s fucked up. I’m wise enough to keep that to myself, though.
“Am I allowed my cell phone?”
“Yes, but there’s tracking on it so I know where you are.” I expected as much. “And we’ll meet with my men shortly, to go over expectations. As a member of our Clan, you’re never to discuss business matters with those outside The Clan.”
“More rules?”
“Aye. But you’re a smart girl. You’ll catch on.”
“Lovely.” If he notes my sarcasm, he doesn’t show it.
“You’re welcome to walk about the grounds. We have beautiful gardens, and our home overlooks the Irish Sea. As long as you’re careful, you keep your guards with you at all times, and you do what I say, you’ll have a good deal of freedom.”
I don’t respond. It’s hard for me to reconcile my bear of a husband with the man who’s talking to me now. Perhaps it’s part of his seduction plan.
A knock sounds at the door, and I jump.
“Relax, lass,” he says, his brows drawn together. “You’re jumpy as a wee rabbit. It’s only breakfast.”
“Thought you said we’d dine downstairs?”
He walks to the door and speaks over his shoulder. “Thought we’d eat up here, but we can go down if you’d like.”
I do. I want to see Caitlin and his mother, and I’ve other reasons as well.
“I would. Please, can we eat with the others today?”
His brows draw together as he thinks on it. He opens the door, says something to whoever’s waiting on the other side, then turns back to me. “Aileen. Can you tell me why you wish to go downstairs?”
So maybe he will actually listen to me once in a while.
“Aye.” I explain my reasoning. “I’d like to see Caitlin and your mum, but I also don’t want anyone to think that I’m too shy to see them or too weak to face them after my claiming last night. I want to show a brave face. Make a good first impression.”
I may’ve fucked that up with my husband, but I won’t with my in-laws.
He scratches his beard. “Well, I must confess that surprises me. But yes, I’ll allow it. It’d be easier for me to talk to my brothers as well.”
I’m getting out of bed while I talk, eager to get dressed and go downstairs.
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Two blood brothers, and several dozen adopted.”
I turn to face him in shock. “What? Your parents adopted dozens?”
But he isn’t laughing or even paying attention to what I’m saying.
“Jesus, you’re gorgeous,” he says, taking a step toward me. My heart beats faster.
“Thank you.” I look down at the little nightie I still wear. It’s rumpled from sleep, clinging to me with static, so it does little to protect me and leaves nothing to the imagination. “I’ll give you this, you don’t hold back on the compliments.”
His lips twitch. “Lucky for you I’ve got to meet my brothers,” he says. “Or I’d have to fuck you again before breakfast.”