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“Bastard,” I growled and stared down at my empty glass. It was either continue to drink or spend some time with her. Having difficulty being close to her was something I hadn’t been prepared for. I’d wanted to shove thoughts of her aside, the sham of a wedding nothing but show. Then it would be back to business.

Back to hunting while I made a plan to destroy both Fassi and Hamza Bata, the Turkish asshole who’d sold his soul to the Moroccan. But as with everything I’d touched since Genevieve had caught my eye the night of her father’s murder, what I’d once thought important was taking a back seat to my relationship with her.

She was a beauty and well worth watching. Yet when another man asked her to dance, I’d finally had enough. Jealousy was also a weakness, according to my father’s constant justifications, but at this point I didn’t give a shit.

Whether or not the marriage was a lie, as of right now, she belonged to me. I took long strides, pushing my way through the people dancing and grabbed her hand.

“Whoa. What are you doing?” she asked, frowning when I gave her partner a nasty look.

“Dancing with my bride. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“You told me you never dance.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why bother now?”

I pulled her toward the edge of the dance floor where I was able to keep an eye on the two doors leading into the room. “Because this is our reception.”

“That’s not a real answer, Jago. That’s an observation since you’ve only been physically here today.” She placed her hand on my chest, digging the fingers of her other hand into my palm.

“What does that mean?” I swung her around in a complete circle.

“That means mentally you’ve been somewhere else, killing the bad guys.”

“And what if I have?”

“There’s time for that. You spent all this money on a reception you have no intention of enjoying.”

“I am enjoying it.”

She laughed haughtily. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a terrible liar?”

“Very recently,” I said. She could infuriate me more than almost anyone, but she also had a way of making me laugh.

“Handsome, but nevertheless pathetic.”

“Are you calling me handsome or pathetic more?”

“Let’s just go with the handsome part. For now.”

“I’ll take that as a royal compliment coming from you.”

Her mouth was pursed, her eyes sparkling as if she’d just caught me in one of those lies. “Please do. What now, husband?” She rolled her hand over my shoulder, daring to tangle her fingers in my hair. “Worlds to conquer? Men to disembowel?”

“Absolutely, but not on our wedding night.”

“Ah, yes. The surprise.”

I pulled our arms into the air, twirling her around in another circle. “Are you ready?”

“I’m honestly not sure with you. Why don’t I just say I’ll be eager to see if you can surprise me.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“Perhaps it is.”

“You’re right. I’m surprised,” Genevieve said as she shifted forward in her seat.