Page 31 of Arranged Control

“What are you doing?!”

“Getting ready for bed.” I toss my shirt over my jacket. “Mind if I use your toothbrush? Or I can open a spare?”

“You’re not brushing your teeth. You’re not staying here!”

“I’m definitely staying. And I can probably go a night without brushing, but you probably won’t like that.” I start taking off my belt, and that really freaks her out.

She jumps off the bed, waving her arms. “Would you stop that? Why are you getting naked? Oh my god, I have clothes you can wear.”

“Doubt you have anything that’ll fit.” I stare, narrowing my eyes. “Unless you’re about to offer me something another man left here.”

She opens her mouth and thinks better of it. “Can you please just sleep downstairs?”

“Absolutely not.” I kick my pants off and flop down on the bed in only my boxer briefs. “Comfortable fucking mattress.”

“Seamus.”

“Darling wife.”

“You threatened to drag me back to your house a minute ago. Now you’re acting like you live here. What are you doing?”

“Getting to know you better.” I stretch my legs with a sigh. I like the way her cheeks turn red as she stares at me. The girl likes the way I look. She likes it a lot, and I think that bothers her. “Come on, I’ll keep my hands to myself. For a little while, anyway.” I pat the bed next to me.

“No, thanks.” She grabs her pillow and a throw blanket. “I’ll take the couch then.”

“It’s our wedding night. You’re really going to leave me all alone in your big, comfy bed?”

“Only because you’re such a prick that you’re going to let your wife sleep alone downstairs.”

I sit up on an elbow and look her in the eye. “I’dnevermake my wife sleep all by herself.”

She looks back and holds my gaze. Her mouth opens, her little pink tongue pressed against her top teeth. She’s thinking about it, I can tell. She’s wondering if maybe she should sit down next to me, maybe relax a little bit, have a little more wine. Maybe kiss me like she did in the church and find out how I can make her feel now that we’ve got nothing holding us back.

Instead, she turns on her heel. “Good night, Seamus!” And slams the bedroom door in my face.

I let out a sigh.

Damn, what a shame.

This bed isn’t as cozy without her in it.

Chapter 10

Alina

Iget just about the worst sleep possible on my wedding night, and not for a good reason.

I dream about beautiful demons pulling me to pieces. I dream about corpses under my bed. I dream about a flood of blood rolling from my closet.

The noise of my coffee grinder yanks me awake. Early morning sunlight blinds me for half a minute. I groan, rolling onto my belly as it grinds and grinds for an absurdly long time. Finally, when it’s over, I peer up over the couch.

Seamus is in my kitchen. He’s making himself coffee with my espresso machine.

He’s also shirtless and still in his underwear.

The man’s absurd. He’s beautiful. Long, muscular legs. Thighs built for breaking hearts. Intricate, deadly tattoos covering his torso. Those freaking V muscles pointing down to his bulging package.

Why does my husband have to be so hot?