Page 16 of The Irish Arrangement

“Six months,” I reminded him in a hot whisper.

His lips lifted in a cruel smile, and I bit my lip not to shout at him.

“If you dare to renege…”

He spoke over my heated whisper, answering the priest with an I do.

“I’ll run,” I warned, stepping closer to whisper. “I’ll run so fucking fast if you back out of our agreement.”

The priest cleared his throat again, and without acknowledging him, I maintained this glare on my groom and through clenched teeth, replied, “I do.”

Declan didn’t waste a second. His hand left mine at last. Reaching up to grip the back of my neck, he hauled me close for a punishing kiss. His lips dominated, forcing me back without any room to move as he locked his hand on me, securing my head right where he wanted me.

Fuck.

I was overwhelmed, stunned and shocked. He claimed my mouth, infusing heat and angry passion against my lips with a brutal urgency I couldn’t deny. Desire tricked me into wanting to moan and reply in kind. Fear kept me nervous and bewildered.

A potent burst of lust spiraled within me, but the stubborn insistence to appear unaffected and unchanging won out.

I froze, doing my best to ignore how fucking good his lips were against mine. Warm, firm, and so ravenous.

He broke away, staring at me with mere inches buffering between us. Those blue orbs glittered with desire and power, maybe a hint of mischief too, as though he was laughing at me.

Fuck you. I’d be damned if he'd mock me, if he thought he could get under my skin in any way at all.

Narrowing my eyes, I waited for him to release the back of my neck. Deep down, I resisted the pull to him, to grab his jacket and tug him back down so I could have a repeat of that hot kiss, to ask for a longer dose of that desire I had no business feeling for him.

Tough it out, then run. That’s all I have to do.

“You’re mine now, Cara,” he growled.

Not for good.

Ian chuckled. “Shall we leave for the reception?”

I flinched, jarred by the realization that it wasn’t just me and Declan here. That we weren’t in this bubble of desire and anger, antagonizing each other in private.

The priest had scurried away. My “family” filed to the exit.

Ian waited for Declan and me to leave.

“Reception?” I asked, dodging his grip.

“Yes.” He smoothed down his jacket. “An evil necessity we must endure to make this look as believable as possible.”

You are my evil necessity. I held up my hand, showing him the band he’d placed on my finger. “This is proof enough.”

He grabbed my hand and held it, leading me down the aisle. “My family will need to meet you.”

I rolled my eyes. “But they couldn’t bother to come to the ceremony?”

“The ceremony you tried to flee?”

I rolled my eyes, looking aside and trying to brace myself for a party to meet his family and the people whose opinions he cared about.

My family wasn’t here. My mother was home, likely confused about why I’d taken off. Struck with a deep sense of homesickness, I followed my husband out of the church and tried to convince myself that I could handle this.

That I could handle anything he dared to throw at me.

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