Instead of the fear I was sure that remark would coax out of her, all I see is sadness clouding her big brown eyes. Her somber demeanor rubs me the wrong way. Irritates me even. I would much rather deal with her when she is trying to cut me down a peg. Her bravery, no matter how idiotic, is preferable to melancholy.
I can even deal with hatred.
Sadness, however, strikes too much of a nerve inside me.
By the time we reach Beacon Hill, I’m wired as all hell as well as painstakingly exhausted by today’s events.
Who knew that getting married to my sworn enemy was such a strenuous affair?
I shrug off the other hotel guests’ stares as Rosa and I walk side by side through the large luxurious foyer and head towards the elevator. I’ve lived all my life in Boston’s public eye, so I’ve become accustomed to the attention of strangers. However, it strikes me that the curious glances being sent our way aren’t directed at me. Not that I’m surprised. The real showstopper is Rosa in that fucking wedding dress. I make a note—after tonight, I’m either going to burn the thing or never let it into my sight again.
As much as I hate to admit it, the image of her entering the cathedral in that goddamn dress will forever be branded into my memory. Even with a fucking veil covering her face, it took my very breath away. Like the woman herself, the dress was elegant yet provocatively bold, making sure that I was the envy of every man there, wishing they could fill my shoes on that godforsaken altar.
Hmm.
Now that I think about it, maybe it was a good thing Rosa kept her face hidden from me to start with. I’m not sure how I would have reacted if I had a full view of all of her at once.
I was expecting a frightened lamb to be led to her slaughter.
But what I got was a queen ready to sit on her throne.
It pissed me off as much as it intrigued me.
When we arrive at our floor, my men are already there guarding the penthouse suite. Seeing them there reminds me that I’ll have to find someone permanent to guard my wife. Someone I can trust. I didn’t think the position would be a hard one to fill, but now that I’ve laid eyes on Rosa, I’m not so sure. I mentally scroll through a list of names of men I would feel comfortable enough leaving Rosa alone with and in their care and come up empty-handed. Even the married ones will have a hard time not lusting over my exotically beautiful wife. And though I have no intention of keeping my own marriage vows, I will not be made a cuckold either. A woman like her will need her bed warm at all times to be content, and like hell will I let one of my soldiers fill the empty spot I’ve made.
I haven’t been married a full day, and already this woman is making my life difficult.
Fuck.
I push through the double doors of the penthouse and rush towards the bar in the corner of the living room, needing a drink to cool my temper. I find a bottle of a fifty-year-old single malt and fill my tumbler halfway with it, drinking it all in one go. I don’t have to look at her to feel Rosa’s judging gaze on me as I refill my glass.
“Want one?” I ask, taking another shot.
“No, thank you. I don’t drink.”
“You’re a Kelly now. Kellys drink.”
“Not me,” she rebukes evenly, with the same dignified grace she’s fought tooth and nail to hold on to all day.
The urge to see her superior mien crack, to run a hammer to it and obliterate it until all that’s left is tiny shards of glass that I can easily crush with the sole of my shoe, is overwhelming.
I fill the glass again and walk the distance over to her as she tries not to fidget under my cold scrutiny.
“Drink,” I order, forcefully grabbing her hand and clutching our combined fingers around the base of the glass.
“No.”
“I said drink.” I tighten my grip on her hand.
If looks could kill, then I’d be ten feet under.
Her glower burns bright with a hostility I know all too well.
“And I said no.”
I stare into her eyes, watching her watch me put the glass to my lips with our entwined hands and taking another swig of my whiskey. I then grab the nape of her neck and harshly crash my lips onto hers, the shocked gasp she lets out granting me enough access between her lips to pour the bitter liquid into her mouth and down her throat. I don’t let up until I’ve made sure she swallows all of it to the very last drop.
When my cock hardens at the idea of forcing my newly-wedded wife to do the same with my cum, I immediately let go of my hold on her, making Rosa stumble back on her unsteady legs.
“We Kellys drink. Get used to it,” I warn with an unforgiving sneer.