Christ, he was a mess.
He jumped when the room broke into applause, and then Aiden elbowed him, jerking his chin to say Teague should be on his feet. Shit. He pushed out of his chair at the same time as Callista. Sheridan watched them both, but it was Seamus who roared, “Let’s see a kiss from the happy couple.”
Happy couple, his ass. His father was punishing him for dazing off during the speeches and, under the attention of far too many people, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do except obey. He passed Seamus, earning a painful shoulder clasp, and stopped in front of Callista. She looked a little pale, and he started to say…Fuck, he didn’t know. Something comforting.
But then she turned to the audience with a smile that somehow managed to convey happiness and nerves, like a princess playing to her subjects. She went onto her toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. The near-innocent contact still sent a bolt of sheer lust through him, and it was everything he could do not to drag her back against his body when she leaned away.
Teague turned to go back to his seat, but his parents had moved down while he was distracted, leaving the seat open directly next to Callista. It figured. He sank into the chair and leaned closer to her. “You will tell me his name.”
Her smile didn’t so much as twitch. “Not likely.”
Why protect the man? Because the perpetrator was a man. The handprint was nearly as large as Teague’s would have been. “Do you care about him that much?”
She shot him a look. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business one way or another.”
“It became my business the second you agreed to marry me.” Where the fuck had that come from? He had no business feeling possessive of this woman, future wife or not.
“You were the second choice.”
The words stung far more than they should have. Of course he’d known as much, but hearing her say it with such derision? The woman had claws, and apparently she wasn’t afraid to use them. He leaned closer. “And did you moan so prettily when that piece of shit Halloran had his tongue down your throat?”
She started tapping the table with her fingers. “Of course.”
Liar. It was in every tense muscle in her body, and the way she wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. He covered her hand with his own, his entire body perking up at the feel of her skin against his. “I don’t think so.”
“Could you be any more arrogant?”
“Probably.” God help him, but he was actually enjoying himself. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She huffed out a breath. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You O’Malleys are all the same.”
“Careful there, Callista.” He liked the way she twitched when he said her name. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know enough.”
He couldn’t bring himself to argue with her, mostly because she was right. His family was full of thugs, liars, and cheats—with a scattering of murderers thrown in for spice. But then, hers was, too. “Those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
She went pale, her lips parting as if she couldn’t quite catch her breath. What the hell? He hadn’t said anything particularly horrible. He squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Why would anything be wrong?”
Prickly thing, wasn’t she? “You just went as pale as if you’d seen a ghost, and now you look about ready to lose your dinner.”
“I’m not feeling well. That’s all.” She seemed to realize she still had her hand in his and jerked it away. “If you’d stop touching and taunting me, the nausea is sure to pass.”
“Nice try.” He used a single finger under her chin to force her to meet his gaze. “You have a lot of secrets, angel. I’m going to enjoy finding them out.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Tell me something.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I will.”
Her sass was a subtle thing. The words were delivered with a perfectly polite pitch, but she hadn’t given an inch since they met. Even knowing his life would be a whole hell of a lot easier if she were a submissive little mouse, he liked that she seemed to have a spine made of steel. “How do you feel about being sold off into marriage for the sake of your family?”
“I—”
A scream cut through the low chatter of the hall, followed by sharp sounds similar to a car backfiring. Gunshots. There was a breathless pause while Teague tried to process the fact that someone was shooting, and then he moved, grabbing Callista and dragging her beneath the table. It wasn’t an ideal position because they were on a raised stage above the other tables, but any cover was better than no cover. He shielded her body with his, while he scanned the room.