He stands there vibrating tension until he growls, “Any time this century.”
I turn off the water, dry my hands, and walk past him, out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
“To get my handbag, if that’s all right with you, Prince Charmless.”
He grumbles something under his breath that I ignore. Ten minutes later, we’re in his big black Escalade, headed into the city.
The silence in the car is deafening.
When I can’t take it anymore, I try to make polite conversation. “So where will you honeymoon?”
He looks at me as if he’s unfamiliar with the word.
“Don’t tell me you’re not taking her on a honeymoon!”
He glares at the windshield, gripping the steering wheel so hard, I’m sure he’s wishing it were my neck. Through clenched teeth, he says, “I really can’t wait until I never see you again.”
I stare at his stupid, handsome profile, forcing myself to refrain from dragging my nails down the side of his cheek. I don’t want Lili to have to look at his gouged face during her wedding vows.
“You should take her to Ireland,” I pronounce, then stare out the passenger window because I can’t look at him one second longer.
After a while, he says gruffly, “Why Ireland?”
Resisting the urge to make a crack about the joys of drunken pub yodeling, I say instead, “So she can see where you were born, Quinn. Get to know you better. You know, meet all your relatives from the motherland and whatnot.”
“I don’t have any relatives left in Ireland.”
The dark way he says it makes me glance over at him. His jaw is hard and his thunderclouds are gathering, but I have to ask.
“Because they’re all in the States now?”
“Because they’re all dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
Don’t ask. Don’t say it, Reyna. Be smart and leave it alone.
Into my ambivalent silence, he says, “Aye, lass, all of them. And no, I don’t have anyone here, either.”
“So it’s just you?”
“Aye.”
“No parents? Siblings? Cousins? No one?”
“No one,” he repeats gruffly, then sends me a pointed look. “And that’s the truth.”
“You’re the last Quinn?”
“There are a million Quinns,” he says with a flick of his fingers. “Just not any I’m directly related to.” After a pregnant pause, he adds, “Which was the point.”
That sounds ominous. But he doesn’t offer any further explanation, so I say, “I don’t understand.”
He closes his eyes briefly, shakes his head as if he’s regretting the entire conversation, then heaves a sigh. “In the Old World, when someone really wants to send a message, they wipe out an entire family tree, top to bottom. Grandparents, parents, children, husbands, wives…every living generation related by blood or marriage to the one who caused the offense.”
And here I thought the Cosa Nostra was brutal.
“That’s what happened to your family?”
Instead of answering, he switches on the radio.
I reach over and switch it off. “How did you survive?”
He glances at the tattoo on my left ring finger. “How did you survive?”
I look out the window again, at the passing suburban landscape creeping toward the city. “Day by day. Any way I could.”
“Then you already know. The details don’t matter.”
He switches on the radio again, ending the conversation.
I close my eyes and allow the sudden and intense longing to get to the dark heart of this strange changeling of a man to pass through me until it’s only a faint, bittersweet taste on my tongue.
The wedding can’t come soon enough.
He’s a riptide and I’m swimming far out in dangerous waters, getting pulled under fast no matter how hard I fight to stay afloat.
16
Spider
It becomes clear I made a massive mistake ordering Reyna to accompany me on the ring-buying excursion the moment we walk into the Cartier store in Manhattan and the store manager greets us with a big smile, open arms, and an enthusiastic, “Congratulations on your engagement!”
Reyna stares at the manager as if she’s planning his murder.
She says icily, “How kind. Thank you. Now please show me the biggest diamond you have for sale.”
“Do you have any preference for shape?”
“Whichever one’s the most expensive.”
The manager almost wets himself in excitement. “Right this way!”
Someone please fucking kill me now.
I follow behind them as they walk to a lighted glass display case near the back of the store. We’re the only customers, as Declan called and arranged a private showing for us.
I didn’t tell him I was bringing Reyna instead of Lili, because I didn’t want to get a lecture. Now I’m thinking I could’ve used a good lecture to talk me out of such a dumb idea.
I have no doubt that by the time we leave, I’ll be flat broke.
The manager, who still hasn’t introduced himself, hops behind the case and makes spokesmodel hands at the rows of glittering rings nestled in white velvet below.
I hear words like flawless and exquisite, but I’m too distracted to pay attention to anything else.
Reyna has leaned over the counter. Her posture and the way the fabric of her dress clings emphasizes the perfect rounded swell of her arse. Inspecting the goods in the case below, she lifts a hand to her jaw and slips a pinky between her lips, biting the tip of it in concentration.
Good God, that mouth. How I want to fuck that luscious mouth.
I have to force myself to look away so the front of my trousers won’t get tented.
“The pink ones are gorgeous. Lili would love those.”
“You have excellent taste,” the manager says, sounding awed. “Pink diamonds are among the rarest of all gems.”
“Probably the priciest, too,” I mutter.
“They sell for between one to five million per carat, depending on clarity and cut.”
When I send him a sour glance, he smiles like a used car salesman. “But who can put a price on true love?”
“Me,” I say flatly. “And it isn’t five million bloody quid.”
The manager glances at Reyna, who’s giving me a look that could melt solid steel.
“But darling,” she purrs, slinky as a panther. “Aren’t I worth it?”
I narrow my eyes at her.
She smiles.
Sensing a power play between us and an opportunity to profit from it, the manager says to Reyna, “If you’re looking for something really unusual, try this.”
He opens the back of the case with a key from the chain on his wrist, removes a clear acrylic stand, and sets it on the glass counter. On the stand sits a ring composed of a simple rose gold band with an enormous blood-red stone set in the middle. It glitters and flashes under the light like it’s alive.
“Is that a ruby?” says Reyna, frowning at it.
The manager replies in a hushed voice. “It’s a red diamond. One of only a few ever mined. It contains zero impurities and is absolutely flawless.”
It’s also the exact color of Reyna’s lush lips.