Page 23 of Bartered Innocence

“Your parents love you. I don’t find anything embarrassing about that. It shows me how loved our kids will be in return.”

My heart twists, pattering away at his intense honesty. It’s not the response I’d been expecting, and it pierces me sharper than anything else he could have said. I also remember Ricky telling me about Rian’s father, who is housebound from his terminal illness. I feel a little like a scolded child for being ungrateful. “We should return to the table.”

He moves out of the way so I can walk past him, and I shiver when his fingertips brush the small of my back. My dress is a modest length that hits right below my knees, but there’s a small opening along my spine that gives him the opportunity to brush my bare skin. “But I should let you know that I told your parents we’ll be having kids as soon as possible.”

“And I have no choice in the matter?” My voice shakes with the question and his fingers pull away.

“Do you not want children?”

I look up at him. “I do, but I have a lot I want to accomplish with the restaurant.”

“And you think it matters if we have them now versus years later? Your feelings about the situation will change?” His cold eyes stare down at me and words stick in my throat. I want to tell him…maybe? That perhaps he has a chance, thatwehave a chance to fall in love, but it seems ridiculous. I don’t want to put those delusional thoughts in his head…or into the universe to mock me when it never happens.

I turn and leave him without an answer. His arrogant self follows behind, and I just know he has a gloating smirk on his smug face.

* * *

“Don’t want to join them for a smoke?” I ask, dropping my empty plate on top of his to bring to the kitchen.

His warm, tattooed fingers wrap around my wrist. “Do you mind if I have a moment with your daughter, Mrs. Romano?”

My mother blushes and scurries over to grab the plates from me. “Of course,” she agrees, then glances at where the men have disappeared into my father’s study. “Perhaps it’s best to stay in this room, though.” Ricky had tried to linger, but Luca pulled him away. Honestly, I’m glad to get away from them all, and the awkward tension as my father tried to keep Rian talking while everyone else just ate in silence. The cracked door between the rooms is the only indicator that they didn’t leave us completely alone.

Rian smiles, the annoyance laced underneath his reply is obvious because I’m so close. “Understood.”

Then his bright eyes slide to mine, the amused mockery swirling at my family’s attempt to preserve my purity. I try to tug my arm away from him, but his grip tightens.

“Take a seat, Isabelle.”

I plop down on the chair behind me, hunching forward because he still refuses to let go of me. He still thinks I’ll find an excuse to leave, which I am tempted to do now with his consistent need to touch me.

Rian hooks his foot around the leg of my chair, dragging me closer until our knees brush. Then he drops my wrist to rest on his thigh, and I resist the urge to curl my fingers around it before slowly pulling my arm away. I don’t want him to know how much he affects me.

He has to know how attractive he is, but I couldn’t have known how my body would heat at the mere memory of our intimacy. The thoughts of my hands roaming down his toned, muscular back as his hips pumped between my legs. I can’t stop the shudder that courses through me, my nipples hardening under my dress.

His eyes darken with desire, and he rubs his fingers across his lips. “What are you thinking about, love?”

“Nothing,sweetie,” I sneer. I would rather get my tongue cut out for lying than ever admit to the man that is forcing me to marry him that I’m thinking about the time he fucked me.

If I thought my attitude would deter him, I’m proven wrong when he adjusts the bulge in his pants right in front of me. My mouth drops, glancing over my shoulder out of habit before snapping at him. “You can’t do that here.”

“Isabelle, I could bend you over this table and fuck you full of my cum and no one in this house would lift a hand,” he says, crossing his foot over his knee with a cocky attitude that makes my heart skip a beat.

I blink, cold sweat forming under my breasts. A forlorn emotion pokes at my chest. I like to think that my brother, or maybe Luca, would stop him. But I’m not sure they would. In our world, I’m just a single woman, while he’s the heir of the Irish mafia.

“No snarky comment now?” His lips twitch, relishing my silence.

Swallowing, I rub my wrists where I feel the phantom burn of his touch. “What did you want, Rian?”

“I want to set some expectations of how this is going to work between us.”

My attention is drawn to the blank space on one of his fingers as he clasps them together on his lap. The square of bare skin spans from knuckle to knuckle, and curiosity has me wondering why.

He clears his throat, and I look up at him, narrowing my eyes as I snap. “Sorry, am I allowed to speak? I wouldn’t want to overstep your manly boundaries as a mere woman.”

His tongue rolls over his bottom lip before he bites down on it. I can’t pull my gaze away from the movement, and I blush when I know he’s caught me.

“Do you know what happens to mouthy, defiant wives?”

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