Page 57 of Mine Again
“And honestly?” Her smile stretches, razor-sharp. “I’d sooner chain myself to an Irish warlord than sign up for a lifetime of micromanagement from you. I imagine your ideal wife doesn’t speak unless spoken to, smiles on command, and produces heirs on a schedule. Sorry, but I don’t do obedience.”
Oh, damn.
Maximo chuckles, unbothered, like she complimented his suit.
“We’ll see about that,” he murmurs. Calm. Confident. As if she hasn’t just handed him his ego on a silver platter. “I do enjoy a challenge.”
Mia’s spine straightens even more, her fists curling loosely at her sides.
“Oh, good,” she says, velvet and venom threading through every word. “You’re in for the time of your life then.”
He just smiles. Not cocky. Worse… certain.
God help him.
God helpus.
With a disgusted huff, Mia spins on her heel and storms back inside. I have to jog to keep up. By the time we reach the library, I’m relieved to find it empty.
She sinks into the sofa with a frustrated sigh, like the weight of the last ten minutes slammed down on her all at once. I settle beside her, close enough that our arms touch.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
She pulls a face instead of answering, her breath escaping in a long,shaky sigh, her bravado peeling away like a mask.
“You wouldn’t seriously rather marry into the Irish mob, would you?” I murmur, trying to keep it light, but I can’t hide my worry.
“If Maximo was telling the truth,” she says slowly, “I’m counting on Mateo to put an end to that contract.” A pause. “He would do that, right?”
“Of course he would.” I loop my arm through hers. “Mateo loves Mariella. He cares for all of us. Hemustnot know about this yet. He’d never stay quiet otherwise.”
“But how did Maximo find out?” She frowns at the shelves, as if the answer is hiding between the spines and just needs coaxing out.
I shake my head. “He seems to have access to things he really shouldn’t.”
“Arrogant asshole,” she mutters, fire flashing back into her eyes. “He’s the last man on earth I’d ever marry.”
She speaks with conviction, fury even. But her hands are still clenched, and her eyes don’t meet mine.
I bump her shoulder. “Even after he so gallantly offered to save you from the Leprechauns?”
She groans and screws up her nose. “Ugh. Save me? He wants toownme.”
“Well, good luck to him,” I grin. “He clearly doesn’t understand that taming you would be like trying to put a leash on a hurricane.”
She laughs, genuine this time, and some of the tension in the room eases.
“Good thing he’s leaving soon. Then I can forget he ever existed,” she mutters, pushing up from the sofa.
So why do I get the feeling this isn’t over? Not by a long shot.
“We need to find Mari,” she says, already tugging me toward the stairs. “And fast. But don’t tell her about this… this… I can’t even call it a proposal. It was more like a declaration of ownership.”
I nod, keeping pace with her. “Agreed. She has enough to deal with tonight.”
Mia exhales through her nose, still furious. “I’m done talking aboutMaximo Marcos. The man’s a walking red flag wrapped in a five thousand-dollar suit.”
I snort. “And yet, he thinks he’s a gift.”
