3. Declan

DECLAN

What in theabsolute fuck is going on here? My family have all gone nuts, and I don't know how it happened. When I suggested kidnapping Bree Murphy, I definitely didn't have any idea that it would go this way.

I thought we'd hold her for ransom, scare her, freak out Niall so that he would act. Da had seemed so into the idea, but now I wonder if he had these plans all along.

How the hell do I get out of this?

My sisters stand as if they're bridesmaids, both dressed in chocolate brown dresses that I suppose they just had hanging in their closets.

Unless the family planned this ahead of time? It took a couple of days before I was able to grab Bree, so maybe....

God, was this all planned behind my back?

I'm panicking, and I don't know how to hide it. I don't understand how this is happening, and why the hell I'm going along with it. I guess it's because I always listen to my da, no matter what.

I'm married to the life, married to doing exactly what my father needs, and I never thought I'd be here. I certainly could have never imagined I'd be marrying a Murphy.

I'm wearing my best three-piece suit, in black, with a silk blue undershirt, and when Bree comes out into the foyer, she's wearing an ivory dress with embroidered flowers all over it.

And if I had to be honest, she looks stunning. She was a sight before, all sweaty and pale, but now she's one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen with her long, auburn hair flowing down her back. There's a slit up one side of the dress and her shoulders are bare and the flashes of skin I can see are mouthwatering.

She has her small hand looped through Gray's arm, and her face is absolutely blank. There's fear in her hazel eyes, too, but also... she's tough. She hasn't cried, hasn't screamed or had any temper tantrums. There"s something hard about her that intrigues me.

But did I want to marry her? No.

I can understand what my father is thinking, although it seems insane.

This will piss off Niall Murphy, maybe even more than holding Bree for ransom. He'll be out for blood after this. It will kill him to learn his daughter was taken from home and forced to marry under duress.

Gray walks her up to me, and as she gets closer, her hazel eyes blaze as she looks into mine.

She's not just afraid. She's pissed off, and I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I thought she'd just be scared, like everyone else I've ever put in that panic room.

As she gets to my side, Father Hannigan starts his spiel, and I'm barely listening. She's glaring up at me, making eye contact, and it's making my breath catch in my throat. There's something very attractive about how angry she is, how it's overtaking the terror in her eyes.

"I do," I say, after Father Hannigan asks me if I'll take her as my wife, still shocked that this is happening.

When Father Hannigan asks the same to Bree, she stays silent, her mouth pressed tightly together, looking up at me.

My father clears his throat, looking at me intently, and there are four or five of our men standing behind him, at attention.

I lean forward, putting my mouth close to the shell of her ear.

"Say I do or there are eight men in this room that will end you."

She trembles, but only slightly.

"I do," she whispers. That's good enough for Father Hannigan, who is being paid handsomely for this impromptu wedding, and he finishes up his speech.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

I lean down and press my lips against her mouth, chastely and coldly, barely tasting her cherry chapstick. A rush of arousal runs down my spine nevertheless, and I hate myself for it.

Why does she affect me so much? She is a Murphy.

Bree stands stock still, trembling slightly, but my father walks up to her.

"You won't be harmed," I murmur to Bree as I stand beside her. "Not as long as you do what you're told."

She doesn't respond, but her hazel eyes flash to mine, and they're full of rage.

Good. I don't want her getting any ideas that I give a shit about her or actually want this.

"I've invited a few people for the ceremony," my father says, and I stare at him as if he's lost his mind, which I'm pretty sure he has. "You'll be polite."

I nod. It's not like I have a choice.

If this is what he wants, this is what I'll do, but I don't have to be happy about it.

I take a drink of champagne from a nearby table and offer one to Bree but she shakes her head briefly.

I sigh. "You can loosen up, you know? I told you that you won't be harmed."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," she grumbles in a low tone. "You just threatened me to death if I didn't say yes to this scam of a wedding, so I'm not really chomping at the bit to be here."

"You were not doing your part, so I had to remind you of the consequences," I admit. "But don't worry. You're my wife now, you'll be fine."

She scoffs, but her stomach growls loud enough that I can hear it.

"I'm sorry we have been such dreadful hosts and starved you since you got here," I tell her. "You should have some crab cakes. Our chef, Marisol, is amazing."

She huffs out a breath. "How do I know it isn't poisoned?"

I roll my eyes and take a plate off the catering table. When Da had gotten all this set up, I don't know, but his ability to throw a party at a moment's notice is well documented.

I pop one into my mouth, taking my time chewing before swallowing. "See?"

She glares at me, but slowly takes the plate from me, taking a couple of small, polite bites before finally shoving the rest of it into her mouth.

I give her a half-grin. "It's good, isn't it?"

She doesn't answer, but she eats another.

I sip the champagne, telling myself not to overindulge. I just want to get the hell out of here, so I can be alone and process.

Lara and Paige whisk Bree away somewhere, and I have to admit, I'm grateful. Her staring holes through me isn't making me feel any better about this whole situation.

My father sidles up to me, smiling. "You're doing great, Declan."

I just glance at him. I don't mean to brood, but I can't believe he pushed this on me without talking to me about it first.

"I set up one of the guest rooms as a honeymoon suite," he comments, as if I'm supposed to be happy about this. "You'll have to take your new wife to bed pretty soon."

My eyes widen. "What? You can't expect me to force myself on her?"

My father scoffs. "Of course not. What kind of man are you that you can't seduce a pretty young girl? You're a looker, Declan."

"You've lost your fucking mind," I mumble, as low as I can, almost hoping he doesn't hear me.

My father's gaze goes sharp. "What did you say?"

"Nothing, Da," I sigh. "But I'm not going to?—"

"I didn't say rape her, Declan. I said take her to bed," he barks, and I don't know what that means.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask him, unable to stop myself. "Why are you punishing me?"

My father looks at me, smiling softly. "It's not a punishment, son. I just know that you're the right man for the job. You have to consummate the marriage. We can't leave it open to the possibility of an annulment."

The job? What job?

Punishing Murphy? Punishing Bree? Marrying a Murphy?

I don't argue any further because my father has this look on his face, one I've seen before. That look tells me that nothing is going to change his mind. And when he has that look, you don't talk back.

I've known that since I was a little kid.

Paige, giggling and on her third glass of champagne brings Bree back to me.

"She's getting tired," she teases. "You should take her to bed."

Bree's hazel eyes snap to mine, and the rage in them is bigger than ever.

It's almost as if I can hear the thoughts running through her head challenging me to just try it. Just you fucking try it.

Paige bounces away, and I lean down to whisper to Bree, "I'm not that kind of man. We'll just go in the bedroom and talk."

"What do we have to talk about?"

I grab her by the elbow, with more strength than I needed, but not in a way that might hurt her or mark her in any way. "You'll go along with this, or Gray will be tempted to do something stupid. Like pull a knife on you."

Bree's eyes widen, but she doesn't break eye contact, and it makes me almost proud of her.

What am I thinking? She's the enemy.

I don't want this any more than she does, though, and so it does make me have pangs of sympathy for her.

I don't care that she's afraid. I just wish we weren't in this situation.

Gray walks by and whispers to me, "It's the guest bedroom by your office."

I take Bree's hand, leading her upstairs, and she jerks away from me.

"I'll follow you if I have to, but don't fucking touch me," she seethes.

I hold my hands up as if in defense, trying to fight a smile. I do like how feisty she is, I can't help it. I've always been attracted to strong women, and I'm impressed by how Bree is handling all of this.

She stalks up the stairs, right behind me, as I walk up them.

There's a chorus of jeers and cheers from the peanut gallery, and I look back with a grin, but Bree looks straight ahead, her face pinched and drawn.

I get it. If she is anything like me right now, she hates this. She hates me, and the feeling is mutual.

I walk into the bedroom, and she blinks at me, staring at the bed as I close the door.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," she hisses. "You don't really think I'm going to sleep with you, do you?"

I shrug. "Stranger things have happened."

If looks could kill, I'd have my head exploded by now.

She brings her fists up in a fighting stance, spreading her legs apart. "If you're going to do this, you're in for a fight."

I laugh, holding up my hands. "I don't force myself on women. Not even dirty little Murphys."

"Then why are we here? Why are you going along with this?"

I stalk toward her. "You think I want this any more than you do? You think I want to be in here with you?"

"I don't know," she shoots back. "I have no idea who you are or what you want. I didn't even recognize you until we got here."

I scoff. "You didn't recognize the Irish scourge?"

She snorts. "You think so fucking highly of yourself."

"Damn right I do," I admit. "I've worked hard to get where I am."

Bree barks out a laugh. "You've worked so hard, just dribbling out of your father into your mother."

"Isn't that how you got here?" I sneer.

I keep stepping closer to her, but she doesn't back up, having whirled around to face me.

"You're no better than me," she accuses. "Just a spoiled little prince."

"You'd know, being the most spoiled little princess in the city," I drawl.

"You couldn't even find your own wife," she spit out. "You had to have daddy find you one."

"I told you," I say through gritted teeth. "I didn't want this, either."

"Then why are you doing it?" Her hands hang on her considerable hips. She's built like a brick shit house, and if this were solely about looks, I'd be all over her.

But it's not. She's a snake. A Murphy.

"What? Are you scared of daddy?" she goes on. "Are you afraid that he'll put you out, kick you out of the lifestyle he affords you?"

"He would never," I hiss. "But maybe that's what you're scared of. Maybe your daddy will drop you like a hot potato as soon as he hears that you're married to a Burke."

"That's what you want, isn't it?"

I give her a twisted grin. "Not at all, sweetheart. I want us to live happily ever after because that would chap your daddy's ass."

"He'll never allow this. It'll get annulled so fast it'll make your head spin," she insists, but then I really notice her, and I smirk.

"Then why are you shaking?" I ask her. "You afraid I'll seduce you, princess?"

"Oh, please," she huffs out, but she hasn't moved, and she doesn't move at all when I put my hand on her waist.

"I think you like it," I murmur. "I think you like being told what to do."

"Just fucking try it," she says. "I'll kick you in the balls worse than I did this morning."

She's staring up at me, her hazel eyes full of anger and fear and... something I can't quite name. Something familiar.

"What are you doing?" she whispers.

"Nothing," I murmur. "I'm not doing anything. But neither are you. You're not pulling away."

"Maybe I'm afraid." Her voice is as low and as breathless as mine.

I shake my head. "I don't think you're the type to let fear rule you, princess. You've been angry this whole time. Ready to kill me. But now, suddenly, when I'm close... you don't push me away. Why is that?"

She looks up at me for an instant more, and leans up on her tiptoes, crushing her lips to mine, our teeth almost gnashing together. And then she closes her eyelids and groans.

Shocked, I flinch, but then she slips her tongue into my mouth, and I kiss her back, with a vengeance.

I push her backward, and her knees hit the bed before she falls onto it, and I cover her with my body.

What the hell are you doing? a voice in the back of my head says, but what my father wants and what my body wants are one and the same, so I kiss her again.

And the warmth of her mouth makes it that I'm not listening to my brain at all, just listening to my body as it takes over.

I just hope I'm not dooming myself.