Chapter 8

Shea~

W hen I had walked out of the hospital at the end of my shift, it hadn't ever crossed my mind that Noah Murphy would be waiting for me in the parking lot. While I'd had no idea when I would finally meet him, I hadn't ever expected it to be in the middle of the Donza Medical parking lot. For some reason, I'd been expecting some kind of formal dinner meet-and-greet or something. I'd been expecting something a little more planned and thought out; not this, never this.

I also hadn't expected him to insult me upon immediately meeting me. Even though I knew that I didn't resemble dog food, there was also no denying the facts about me. I was only five-foot-two, which made an extra five pounds around the middle look like an extra twenty. My auburn hair was usually thrown back in a ponytail or thrown up in a bun, so it wasn't full of luster or brilliance. Heavy makeup was reserved for going out and partying, so I usually only wore a touch of mascara and some tinted lip balm. There was absolutely no need to look sexy for work when I could get thrown up or drenched with blood at any given moment during my shift.

My petite frame was another thing that wasn't very impressive. I had a small B-cup bust, a small waist, and with my flared hips, I had that classic pear shape that lots of women dreaded. While I wasn't big on living up to society's brand of beauty, it was no secret that men loved big tits, soft waists, wide hips, and thick thighs. Men wanted sexual sirens in their beds, and that's the last thing that anyone would ever mistake me for. So, when Noah had remarked that there wasn't much to me, he hadn't been lying. However, it'd been the first time that anyone had ever pointed out what I was lacking, and so rudely had no regrets about it.

The entire situation only got worse when you took in how freaking gorgeous Noah Murphy was. He was easily a whole foot taller than me, and every muscle in his body filled out his frame perfectly. He was dressed in a black t-shirt, dark blue denim jeans, a pair of what looked like black work boots, and he had a light jacket on, though it wasn't quite cold enough for one yet. As soon as the sun went down in another hour, it'd be cold enough for a jacket, but not right now.

As I stared up at Noah, he looked to be around my age, and while his clothing couldn't disguise that phenomenal physique of his, it was his face that really took your breath away. Noah Murphy reminded me of Ekman Larsson, but with light brown/dark blonde hair and a pair of crystalline eyes that seem to glow of their own accord. If I had to name the shade of his eyes, I'd call them turquoise or an aquamarine color. They were so unique that you could lose yourself in them easily. They were almost hypnotizing, and that was the last thing that I needed in my life. I was going to have to be able to keep my wits about me whenever I was around this man, or else I'd never survive this marriage.

"Well, you've met me," I retorted.

He cocked his head a bit, and I had to keep myself from flinching when he reached up to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. "I'va question fer ye, lass," he said, and it was weird how his accent faded in and out like it did.

"What?"

"Da ye allow all men ta touch ye when they want?" he asked, making my head rear back in surprise.

"Wh…what?" I stammered. "What are you talking about?"

Noah straightened to his full height, and I couldn't lie and say that it wasn't concerning just how big he was in comparison to my five-foot-two. Between his height and size, he was easily more than twice my size, and I'd be a fool to ever lose sight of that significance. If Noah Murphy had a mind to, he could snap me like a twig, and I couldn't see anyone stepping up to stop him.

"Well, you didn't so much as blink when I fixed your hair just now, and you seemed awfully comfortable earlier when your friend did the same thing, then put his arm around you to escort you back into the hospital," he said, making my eyes widen with shock.

"You were spying on me?"

"It doesn't matter what I was doing," he replied coolly. "What matters is that you let another man touch you when you're engaged to be married."

I could feel my heart start racing in my chest, the heat of anger rushing to every part of my body. I'd only found out about my parents two days ago, and he was daring to comment on a friendship that I'd had way before he had ever come into my life? Even if I had been screwing Ethan, I seriously doubted that Noah Murphy was keeping it in his pants, so he had absolutely no room to talk.

Deciding to pick my battles and tackle the spying issue at a later time, I said, "Ethan and I are friends. We've been friends ever since he started working here five years ago."

"You ever fuck him?" he asked pointedly, and it stunned me momentarily.

After snapping out of my shock, I asked, "So, am I to believe that you're coming into this marriage a virgin, Mr. Murphy? Because if not, then I don't see how our sexual pasts matter at this point.'

I gasped when I suddenly found myself pressed up against my car, Noah's large frame caging me in, his hand wrapped around my throat. "It matters because you're going to be my wife , Shea," he practically hissed. "You're going to be my wife, and with that, I expect you to keep your legs closed for anyone that's not me."

Heat raced up my face, and I wanted to believe that it was anger making me feel flushed, but I'd be lying if I'd said that it was just anger. "We're just friends," I bit out between clenched teeth.

Noah leaned in closer to me. "Then why in the fuck was he touching you?"

"Because we've been friends for five years," I snapped. "We're familiar with each other."

"Then unfamiliarize yourself with him," he snapped back. "If I ever see or hear of him touching you again, I'll put him down like a rabid dog, Shea." His hand tightened around my throat. "Do not test me on this, lass."

I started shaking my head in denial. "You…you can't do that."

"Really?" he taunted. "Then why don't you tell me all the things that I can't do, baby."

"You can't just-"

"You tell him, or I will," he snarled. "I don't care either way, but I guarantee that your friend will appreciate it more if you're the one being honest with him versus me proving a point, Shea."

"They're just affectionate gestures," I argued. "He doesn't mean anything by them."

"Ask me if I give a fuck," he shot back.

Suddenly feeling the weight of this shit on me, I said, "I'm tired, Mr. Murphy. I'd like to go home."

With his incredible-colored gaze still on me, he loosened his fingers, but instead of releasing me, his hand slid down the front of my chest, and my face burned with humiliation as there wasn't enough to block the path that he was making. My bra was functional, so it positioned my B-cups perfectly, no cleavage anywhere. It also sucked that I'd never had an issue with confidence before today, but Noah's blatant observation of all that I was lacking had left its mark, even if it was a small one. Though I shouldn't care what he thought of me, it was kind of hard not to since he was going to be my husband soon.

I swallowed hard when he leaned in, his breath warm on my ear. "Call me Noah, and I'll let you go," he ordered, his hand stopping on my left hip.

I didn't want to call him by his first name.

I didn't want it to sound like we were friends.

He was second-in-command of the O'Briens, and I needed to remember that.

Nonetheless, I couldn't see a way out of this. So, I let out a shaky breath before saying, "I'd like to go home, Noah."

"See, lass," he drawled out. "Tha wanna so hard, was it?"

After a few more torturous seconds, Noah finally stepped back, giving me some room to breathe, and for a brief moment, it crossed my mind to run. My parents and I could leave the country, and with us already being on the east coast, we could easily lose ourselves in Europe somewhere. People willingly disappeared all the time, so why couldn't we?

However, before I could give the idea some real merit, Noah was saying, "Pack what you need on Thursday because we'll be getting married on Friday."

I could feel my eyes nearly pop out of my head. "What?"

"I'll have The O'Brien inform your parents of where and when the ceremony will take place," he went on like he hadn't just thrown me for a loop. "I'd also like to point out that I have enough money and connections to hunt you down to the ends of the earth if you decide to run, lass." My back straightened at that guiltily. "If you run, I will find you. I will find you, and the repercussions will be ones that you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," I bit out, fuming.

"I also suggest that you have that conversation with your friend before the wedding," he said. "Once you have my ring on your finger, you'll be my wife, and I'll be less tolerable where my wife is concerned. Understood?"

"Perfectly," I snapped before turning from him to get the hell out of here.