Regardless of what my dick thinks about her, she’s pissing me off.
Kieran stands, already knowing my request will be granted. Caruso follows, sending a nervous look in Reyna’s direction.
“Certainly. We’ll give you a moment. Kieran, why don’t I show you my collection of Fabergé eggs?”
With a straight face, Kieran says, “Can’t think of anything better, mate.”
They leave. As soon as the door closes behind them, I look at Reyna. “All right. You’ve obviously got something to say to me. Say it.”
She turns from the window, blinking. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you mean.”
Her hand rests at the base of her throat. Her eyes are wide and guileless. She’s the picture of innocence, and she’s entirely full of shite.
I say, “Too late, woman. I’ve already seen the swamp witch you’re trying to hide under that human skin suit you’re wearing.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not as good an actress as you think.”
She stares at me in blistering silence for a few seconds, then says icily, “Number one: don’t call me woman like it’s a pejorative. It’s not. Number two: if you’re not bright enough to know what the word pejorative means, ask your sidekick. He seems like he might have actually read a book once. Number three—”
“Will this take long? I’ve got a meeting to get through.”
Her nostrils flare. Her lips thin. Her body trembles with impotent fury, and I think I’m starting to have fun.
She says tightly, “Number three: I have nothing to say to you.”
“No?” I let my gaze travel the length of her body, down and back up again, relishing every dangerous curve. “Because it bloody sure seems like you do.”
With what appears to be a huge effort of will, Reyna holds back whatever vitriol is burning the tip of her tongue. She smooths a hand over her dark hair, straightens her shoulders, and forces a tight smile.
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
“But it won’t be pleasant.”
“I doubt you’re capable of pleasantries, wee viper.”
Her eyes flash. “Insulting me won’t win you any points.”
“I’m not the one here who needs to win points.”
That makes her even angrier. Her cheeks turn scarlet. “Why are you deliberately baiting me?”
“Because you’re better than your brother,” I say, holding her infuriated gaze. “You don’t need to pretend to be something you’re not. Now talk to me. I need to know why you’re so angry, and I won’t get the truth from him.”
She’s taken aback by the compliment and by my forthrightness, both of which she obviously wasn’t expecting.
I get the feeling there isn’t much she doesn’t anticipate, so that’s gratifying.
When she doesn’t speak for too long, I prompt, “You don’t like that I’m Irish.”
“I’m not that petty or prejudiced,” she says crossly. “I don’t judge people by where they were born.”
The way she says it, I believe her. She’s genuinely insulted by the suggestion.
Which is interesting, considering most of her kin would rather be burned alive than befriend an Irishman.
Our families might do business together when it suits us, but it’s a point of pride that we hate each other’s guts.
“So what, then?”
She gazes at me in silence, measuring me up. Then she shakes her head.
“You know I can’t possibly be honest with you. There’s too much at stake for my family.”
“There’s too much at stake if you’re not honest with me.”
“Such as?”
“I’ll walk out of here without meeting Liliana and without looking back, because there are plenty of other lasses in the Cosa Nostra who’ll happily spread their legs for me and gain advantage for their families if she doesn’t.”
She stares at me. Her eyes are an unusual color, a pale greenish-gray, like a mermaid might have.
On a woman without the urge to murder me and bury my dismembered body in a shallow grave, they could be mesmerizing.
“I hate you for saying that.”
“Add it to your list.”
My smirk is the thing that finally breaks her.
“Fine. You want the truth? I’ll give it to you. My niece is a good girl. She deserves so much better than to be sold off to the highest bidder without a damn say in the matter. She deserves so much better than a man who’d marry for money, position, or power. She deserves to be loved, cherished, and respected for everything she is. What she doesn’t deserve is to not have a voice. Or a choice. Or a life of her own!”
“What makes you assume she won’t have a life of her own if we’re married?”
Reyna blinks. Once. Slowly. As if what I’ve just said is the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.
“Or that I wouldn’t respect her?”
She quirks her lips. “Now you’re toying with me, Mr. Quinn.”
“Spider.”
After a beat of confusion, she says, “Pardon?”
“Call me Spider.”
“Why on earth would I do that?”
“Because it’s my name.”
She laughs. It’s a lovely sound. It also seems to surprise her, because she stops laughing abruptly, looking as if she has no idea how she allowed something so pleasant to pass her lips.
“Your name is…Spider?”
“Aye.”
“Did your mother hate you?”
“No.”
“But she named you after an insect?”
“It’s a nickname. And spiders aren’t insects.”
She furrows her brows and stares at me.
“Why are you gaping at me like I’ve got a horn growing between my eyes?”
“Because I think I must’ve fallen out of bed this morning and gotten a concussion.”
I chuckle. “That would explain why you’re eatin’ the head off me.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again.
“Oh, look. The wee viper lost her words. Bet that doesn’t happen but once in a donkey’s years.”
Through gritted teeth, she says, “If you’d speak English instead of idiot, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”
“Ooo, the fangs are out.”
Her mermaid eyes glitter with malice. “Stop. Mocking. Me.”
“Or what? You’ll bury that letter opener in my chest?”
Her gaze slices to the blotter on her brother’s desk, then back to me. The way her lips turn up at the corners, I can tell she’s relishing the idea of stabbing me.
“Have a go. I’m in the mood for a good laugh.”
“You wouldn’t be laughing for long. I think this meeting is over.”
“Sorry to break it to you, lass, but you’re not the one in charge here.”
That really gets her goat. A flush of red rises up her neck to merge with the burn in her cheeks. She says stiffly, “We obviously have nothing more to say to one another.”
“Now that’s the silliest thing you’ve said since you walked in.”
“If you don’t stop smirking at me, I won’t be responsible for what happens.”
I cock my head and consider her. “It’s men in general, is that it? You hate men.”
Her evil smile would look right at home on Satan himself. “Only a deserving few.”
I know we could go back and forth like this until hell freezes over, so I decide to get to the point.
“I admire your loyalty to your niece, Ms. Caruso, but I want a wife, not a slave. If Liliana and I marry, she can do as she likes, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my business or reflect badly on me.”
She studies me, no doubt trying to decide if I’m lying. Then in a challenging tone, she says, “She could go to college?”
That surprises me. “Does she want to go to college?”
“She was accepted at Wellesley. It’s an all-girls school—”
“I know what it is.”
“—so you wouldn’t have to worry about her being around other boys.”
My gaze drops to her mouth. Her full, lush, scarlet mouth, which seems mainly to be used for hurling insults.
Pity. It would look beautiful stretched around the head of a stiff cock.
I say softly, “I’m not a boy.”
When I lift my gaze to hers again, she looks flustered, but as if she’s trying not to show it.
“What else? Might as well air all the dirty laundry while we’re at it.”
“All right, then. Do you drink?”
“Not to excess, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Do you have a temper?”
“All men have tempers.”
She scoffs. “Don’t I know it. What I mean is are you violent?”
“I’m second-in-command of the Irish Mob. What do you think?”
She swallows, glances away, then meets my gaze again. She moistens her lips. “I…I meant with women.”
And here we have it.
I glance down at her left hand, at the circle of black ink on her ring finger, and finally understand what this inquisition is all about.
My voice low, I say, “I’m not your dead husband.”
She starts as if she got an electrical shock. Her eyes widen. She steps back, then catches herself and stands in place, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin.
“I don’t know what you mean.”