More silence. He let it go, knowing that he couldn’t rush the man when it came to this shit. Finally Teague cursed. “Goddamn it, you don’t ever take the easy road, do you?”
“You know me better than that.”
“Yeah, I do.” Another pause. “And Carrigan? What’s she got to say about all this?”
She left me. He clenched his teeth together. “She’s doing whatever it takes to keep everyone around her safe, even if that means walking away from me.”
“Well, hell.” Teague cursed again. “I’ll help if I can, but you know as well as I do that my father isn’t a man to cross. Are you prepared for the consequences?”
War. The very thing they’d all busted their asses to avoid over the summer, and now he was considering running headlong into it. This was different, though. Carrigan was worth it and more. “Yeah, I’m prepared.”
“Then sit tight and don’t do anything stupid. I’ll see what I can find out and get back to you.”
He started the Chevelle. “Teague?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.” He hesitated. “If you want to go get a beer when this is all over, first round’s on me.”
“I’d like that. Now stay the fuck out of trouble until I call you.”
Easier said than done. He wasn’t the type of man to be comfortable sitting on his hands, but at least he had other shit to occupy him. James glanced at the clock. A few short hours until it was time for the meet up. He checked on Michael, but it looked like so far so good.
He was too fucking realistic to hope that the rest of the day would go down without a hitch.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dmitri’s man drove them down to the Mandarin Oriental, and he didn’t say a word the entire drive. Not that Carrigan expected him to. What did he have to say? He’d won. He’d gotten everything he’d wanted, and he’d put her father in a position of being grateful to him. It really was brilliant.
Not that she was ever going to say so.
She climbed out of the backseat before the man had a chance to open the door, and looked around the parking garage. “How long will we be here?”
“Tonight. I have some remaining business to take care of in Boston before we return to New York.” Dmitri offered his elbow, and she forced herself to take it. She might resent the hell out of him, but she knew when to hedge her bets. She was marrying him, whether she liked it or not. Getting them started on the right foot—as much as possible—might mean more freedom for her down the road.
I hate this. I hate that I can’t choose a man for myself. I hate everything.
Her fingers itched for her phone, and the thing she wanted most in the world was to hear James’s raspy voice over the line telling her that it was okay and he’d be at her side in no time. It would never happen again. God, that hurt.
Dmitri led them up through a set of elevators to one of the absurdly large suites. Everything about it was opulent and expensive, all with a vaguely Asian theme that didn’t quite commit to any specific culture. She made a beeline for the kitchen, finding a bottle of vodka stashed in one of the cabinets. Why wasn’t she surprised? She poured a healthy splash into a tumbler and then poured some more. Alcohol wouldn’t do anything to change her circumstances, but it’d numb her to some of the sharper aspects of it for tonight, at least. If that was the best she could do, then she was going to happily do it.
If I hadn’t gone and fallen for James, would I be so upset about marrying Dmitri?
She didn’t know. That was part of the problem. She’d never been on board with this whole marrying-a-stranger plan, but at least she understood the Russian. He was a cold bastard, but she could be cold, too.
Or so she’d thought.
She glanced up as the glass touched her lips to find Dmitri watching her. “What?”
“Nothing at all. Help yourself.” It irked her that he had her over a barrel in every way that counted, and all the while he’d never once lost his polish and poise during the whole process. My fault. Knowing that didn’t help her mood a damn bit, but there it was. She’d made her bed and now it was time to lie in it. It didn’t matter if she’d been forced into a corner by circumstances beyond her control.
She tightened her grip on the glass, trying to remind herself why this was all necessary. To keep James safe. She’d screwed up last night and let her heart get the better of her head. Dmitri didn’t seem like the kind of man to be forgiving, but if he was going to make an exception this time, she had to do whatever it took to make sure that happened. No matter how much she hated the thought of playing subservient wifey to him.