I hesitate, biting my lip, gathering my courage to say the words. “A husband who loves me.”
I’ve knocked Kieran for a loop. How do I know that? Because he doesn’t reply. Not a single word. I turn to stare out the window again, disappointed when I see that he’s not even going to try to pacify me with pretty words.
It’s late and I’m exhausted by the time we return to the compound. Things between us are awkward, and neither of us say a word as we go inside. Still no words while we fall into our bedtime routine.
I’m wearing one of my long gowns, and as usual, Kieran isn’t wearing a stitch when he gets in bed beside me. We’ve had sex every single night since he claimed me, except for the days I had my period. I wonder if he believes that he’s entitled to sex tonight.
He’s not.
I turn off the light and lie on my side, my back to him. I don’t say a word. I’m afraid I’ll burst into tears… and I would hate that. Hate for him to see me being weak… because he doesn’t love me.
I feel the wetness collecting in my eyes. I squeeze my lids tightly, hoping to stop it, but it only makes the tears fall down my face. Dammit. Kieran has never seen me cry, and I don’t want him to now either.
I’m not that girl… the one who is weak and whiny and weepy.
He turns off his bedside lamp, and we lie in the darkness. More silence, except for our breathing and my occasional sniffle.
At least ten minutes have passed when Kieran says, “I feel more for you than I’ve ever felt for any woman.”
Maybe that’s supposed to make me happy, but it doesn’t “How many women have you ever been in love with?” I already know the answer.
“None.”
“You’ve never felt anything for a woman, but with me you feel more… than… nothing. Wow. That makes me get all kinds of butterflies in my stomach.” I wish he hadn’t said anything at all.
“I didn’t say that I feel more than nothing for you. Those are your words.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. It matters very much because you’re unhappy. I don’t want you to ever be unhappy, not even for a second.” He moves closer and wraps his arm around my waist. Nothing sexual. Just an affectionate embrace. “I’m falling for you, doll. I feel it happening more and more every day.”
“Are you?” I hate the desperate hopefulness I hear in my own voice. I sound pathetic.
“I am.” He snuggles closer. “Love is like a rose. It blooms at the perfect time when it’s at its most beautiful but only after being nurtured. That’s what our relationship needs: to be nurtured so it can bloom when it’s at its most beautiful.”
You don’t expect poetic words like those to come from the mouth of a killer. “That’s a good way of putting it.”
“Do you love me, Westlyn?”
Surely he knows that I do. I wouldn’t bring this up if I didn’t. He says that he’s falling for me. That’s different from loving me, and it’s not fair for him to ask me to declare my love for him. “You don’t get to ask me that.”
“I do get to ask you that. Tell me. Do you love me?”
I could lie and say no. I could refuse to answer one way or the other. But what’s the point? “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“No.” It’s cruel of him to ask that of me when he can’t say it back.
He turns on the lamp, pushes me to my back and gets on top of me, his eyes staring directly at mine. “I want to hear you say it.”
I close my eyes, press my lips together, and shake my head. Defying him. “I won’t give you that satisfaction until you’re able to say the words in return.”
He lowers his forehead to mine. “Please, Westlyn. I can’t recall in twenty-eight years ever hearing those words said to me. You’d be the first to say them.”
We are so much alike, he and I. Both of us yearning to be loved.
It’s a pain I know all too well. Kieran doesn’t know that I’ve never been told those words either, or how desperately I too want to hear them. I understand his deep pain, and that is why I can’t withhold those words from him although I already know I won’t hear them in return.
I open my eyes and look at those dark orbs staring at me. They’re black like his heart and soul, but I want to be his light so that he doesn’t have to remain alone in the dark. “I love you.”
He closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them. “Say it again. Please. With my name.”
“I love you, Kieran.”
“Those words… they do something to me, Westlyn. I can’t begin to explain it.” He closes his eyes and softly presses a kiss to my mouth. “Things are changing between us. Growing… blooming. We’re becoming so much more than two people who are marrying to bring peace to our brotherhoods.”
It’s not an I love you, but I’ll take it.
For now.
He deepens our kiss and gently rocks against me. “I want to make love to you. No fucking. No trying to make a baby. Just you and me connecting. Getting closer.”
Well, withholding sex from him tonight is out of the question now. Who could say no to that? Not this girl.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and nod. “Make love to me.”
I stand on the platform in the bridal shop for my final fitting before I marry Kieran in three days. I can’t believe it’s been almost a full month since a hood was placed over my head, and I was tossed into the back of a limo to kneel before him. My master. That’s what he called himself. And to some degree he is, because he certainly does own me.
Mo chroí. That’s what he is. My heart.
“Looks like a perfect fit,” Isobel says. I asked her to come with me today because I’m angry with my mother and humiliated by her behavior. I’ve personally witnessed her being inappropriate toward Lennox, and I strongly suspect she may have made a pass at him in private. I don’t think he would take her up on her offer. Kieran assures me that people from The Syndicate are faithful to their mates. No exceptions.
He is a handsome man, but he’s married to Arabella. She has no right to proposition him. There are plenty of men within The Fellowship who don’t have wives. But that’s not what my mother would want. She’s hungry for power and position, and Lennox has plenty of that.
This is the first time I’ve been alone with Isobel since Kieran and I discussed her having a past relationship with his father. I wonder if I’d offend her by asking about it. “Kieran says that you and Lennox know each other.”
“We did a long time ago.”
Arabella didn’t act strangely toward Isobel, but it’s possible she doesn’t know about their prior relationship. “Is Lennox the man you were in love with before you married Thane?”
“Ye know about that, huh?” Isobel grins. “Lennox’s older brother, William, and I were in love.” William will be the leader of The Syndicate after Douglas Hendry dies. “My father thought a match with Thane was more beneficial. I was heartbroken. I spent a lot of years blaming Thane, and eventually he came tae hate me as much as I hated him. Oor relationship, however, has improved over the last year. We tolerate one another, and sometimes we’r
e even cordial.”
I’ve seen a change in their relationship. They do seem to tolerate one another more. I think sharing grandchildren has helped to soften them toward each other.
“William will be at my wedding.” With his wife.
“Yes, he will.”
“Have you seen him since you were married off to Thane?”
“No.”
“Do you still love him?”
“I will always love William, but that doesnae matter. I’m married. He’s married… and people from The Syndicate don’t stray. Not even those in leadership roles.” Isobel forces a smile and holds out my veil. “I want tae see ye in this too.”
The bridal shop attendant sees us struggling with the placement. “Let me help you with that.” Feels like she places at least a dozen pins in my hair. Totally unnecessary; I’m only trying it on.
“You look beautiful. You’re going to take Kieran’s breath away.”
I hope he doesn’t think it’s too sexy.
“Delivery for Miss Breckenridge,” a man says as he walks toward me carrying a large bouquet of flowers. It’s odd that I would have a delivery to the bridal shop. Must be from Kieran since he’s the only one who knows I’m here right now.
Isobel cuts off the man. “I’ll take those. Dinnae want her to soil her wedding dress. She’s getting married in three days.”
“No, she isn’t.” The man shoves the flowers at Isobel, knocking her to the floor, and the seamstress screams and backs away from me. He rushes at me with a raised knife, and I lift my arms to shield myself. I instantly feel the sharp burn of his knife slicing through my flesh. Feels like a nightmare happening in slow motion.
White. Red. Black.
It happens in that order.
The white wedding dress saturated with red blood and black taking over my vision.
I’m looking at The Order’s ledgers, and the shite doesn’t add up. I strongly suspect that someone is skimming off the top. Wouldn’t be the first time that has ever been done. Also wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been asked to step in and rid the brotherhood of a thief.