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S omething the glitter swirling around in his bright green eyes promised, and goddamn, did I look forward to it.

Sex with Liam was just that good. Outstanding, really. And here I thought I sucked at physical intimacy. But maybe my failed relationships weren’t my fault. Maybe I just needed the right man.

To think my husband could be that man was something I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with.

“I’ve known Connor for a long time and trust him to be professional with you otherwise I would stay right here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be fine,” I said, rolling my eyes at that overbearing statement.

I didn’t want to admit the hope it gave me that he sounded a tad bit possessive. Something I was used to from my father and uncles with my mom and their wives, respectively.

Am I being foolish?

Was it possible that my handsome as fuck husband might actually like me? And was thinking thoughts like that something I should avoid like the plague?

Probably. The latter, I mean. As for the former, who knew?

If I started assuming he valued me for something more than what I could potentially bring to ODI, or even to our bedroom, I was putting myself in danger.

Danger of falling in love.

Danger of getting my heart broken.

Neither one of those sounded like fun. To be honest, I didn’t think I would survive either.

Loving my husband was the worst thing I could think of, and for one simple reason.

He didn’t love me back.

Likely, never would. But the way he was looking at me now, and how he shut down Miss Chen’s obvious invitation, well, they had me hoping for more than I should.

Foolish, Micky.

But maybe I was wrong to think so.

Maybe it was time to start believing in something I long since had given up on.

Maybe it was time to believe in love.

My heart squeezed. I shouldn’t go there. Not with him. Not now when I was so close to achieving what I’d wanted for my professional life for years.

But there was no stopping that crush I’d had all those years ago from blossoming inside of me like a flower that had seen its first ray of sunshine after years of icy snow.

The air in the room seemed charged with electricity, and I was suddenly very aware of Liam. He remained standing there in front of me.

Eyes open, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to me. It was a chaste kiss. A mere meeting of lips. But it felt like more.

“Be good, Wife.”

“Always,” I replied automatically.

“Indeed,” he murmured, adjusting himself before he left our office.

Holy. Shit.

I was still standing there when a few moments later, someone knocked.

“Come in,” I said, running my hands over my shirt.

Like I was trying to iron out any signs of my inner turmoil that might have been showing. I cleared my throat and offered the stranger a level stare.

“Good morning, Mrs. O’Doyle, I’m Connor Callahan. Your husband asked me to personally set you up to access the system,” the large man introduced himself, but made no move to shake my hand.

Weird.

His name was vaguely familiar, but I’d never seen him before. I would have remembered someone like him. A tattooed neck peaked out from beneath his black button down and when I looked down, I saw the same dark ink marked his wrists and hands.

He was about the same height as Liam. But his shoulders were wider. He was stockier. Older, too.

Perhaps, if I were anyone else, this man’s appearance would have made me uncomfortable.

Big, strong, but not unattractive. Nothing compared to my husband, of course.

Still, I could not shake the feeling he was familiar. There was something serious about Connor Callahan that bespoke danger.

Then again, my entire family was made of men cut from the same cloth, so maybe it wasn’t so strange that I felt like I knew him.

I nodded my head and indicated he should follow me to my new desk.

“Let’s do it,” I said, and clapped my hands together. That was when I looked down and almost fumbled in my steps.

There on my finger wasn’t the plain old diamond Margaret O’Doyle had bought for my arranged marriage.

My mouth hung open, and my heart started pounding.

“Is something wrong, Mrs. O’Doyle?” Connor Callahan asked.

“Um, no, not at all,” I said.

My gaze lingered on the oversized teardrop ruby. Its deep, blood-red hue seeming to glow as it caught the light.

How did he know?

I licked my lips, admiring the simple platinum band. It was the perfect backdrop for the magnificent gem.

I’d always been a fan of bursts of color in understated things. Like my penchant for wearing neutrals with rich accents.

It was both striking and understated. The band was smooth and simple, a quiet contrast to the boldness of the stone.

The weight of it on my ring finger, the way it seemed to command attention without needing to shout, stirred something in me.

I wanted to text my husband to thank him for it, but now was not the time.

“Are you ready, Mrs. O’Doyle?”

“Yes. Sorry,” I apologized and moved to join him.

The next few hours flew by in a whirlwind of information and introductions. ODI was truly innovative in the way the company had its branches set up, everything in its place and operating like a fine Swiss watch.

Liam had offered me the opportunity to set up a team of my own, but the people he had in place were fantastic. Top tier computer engineers and techs who knew exactly what they were doing.

I even recognized one of them from my time at Stevens. He’d been a few years older than me, but he seemed to remember me. Overall, it wasn’t awkward, so that was good.

No one seemed to mind that I was now partners with my husband. In fact, they seemed excited since computer engineering was actually my area of expertise.

“Well, everything seems great so far. I will look over what you’ve sent me, and we can have a follow up meeting tomorrow afternoon,” I said and stood up.

The three head engineers all stood up after me and left with promises to get their tasks finished and checked in on time.

I followed them to the door, feeling quite satisfied with the day when I spied my husband bearing down on me.

He looked gruff and angry. Or, no, not angry, just intense. Liam pushed past the last engineer, a young man named Omar, and shut the door behind him, locking it with an audible click.

“Come here,” he growled, pulling me to him and slamming his mouth to mine.

In my lifetime, I’d been kissed. It would be a lie to say I hadn’t. Some kisses were short and sweet, and others were long and sultry. But Liam’s kisses went beyond anything I’d ever experienced.

His large hands cupped my cheeks, tilting my head as he claimed my mouth with a ferocity that left me breathless and aching—desperate for more.

I was at his mercy. A willing pawn to anything he desired. And when he broke free, staring down at me with fire in his emerald eyes, I couldn’t look away.

“I don’t think I can wait to get you home, Mrs. O’Doyle,” he growled, and my heartbeat sped up.

“Oh? Well, I wonder what we can do about that then, Mr. O’Doyle?”