Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
It was a fight to keep her face perfectly bland. She could still feel him pawing at her, and the anger over his asshole commentary hadn’t dimmed with time. Her interlude with James had made the memory bearable, but she wouldn’t hesitate to knock that slimy fuck on his ass again if she ever was forced into his presence. “Yes. Chauncy Chauncer.”
Her mother made a face. “New money.” As if that summed up everything worth knowing about him. Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong in this particular case. She moved to the dresser and started straightening the pictures there. “How did it go?”
“He’s no longer in the running.”
Aileen looked over sharply. “What did he do?”
She should have known that her mother would pick up on the underlying anger that Carrigan still couldn’t shake. Every time she so much as thought Chauncey’s name, a slow-burning rage rolled through her. He’d insulted her, and then he’d touched her without permission—assaulted her. She picked at a nonexistent thread on her comforter. “He had problems taking no for an answer.”
It wasn’t something she’d ever admit aloud to her father but, as rarely as she and Aileen saw eye to eye, she knew her mother would understand this. Sure enough, her perfectly lipsticked mouth tightened. “You took care of it.” There wasn’t any doubt on her face that Carrigan was more than capable of putting the pig in his place.
“I got my point across.” She just wished she’d hit him again. Or kicked him while he was down. Her shoulders tightened at the memory of him shoving her against the wall. “He’s a fool, so I doubt it had any lasting effect, but he won’t be touching me again.”
“Good.” Aileen hesitated and then went back to straightening pictures. “You’ll let me know if you need to take further actions.”
Even if she didn’t, her mother would find out anyway. She might not be as flashy about it, but Aileen had as many—if not more—people reporting to her as Seamus did. “Of course.”
“Good. Now that that’s taken care of, show me this list of your father’s.”
She handed it over because there really was no other option. Besides, even though her mother was as willing to sell her off as her father was, at least Aileen would take more factors into account than just his potential alley value. I should have asked her before going out with Chauncey. The realization had her straightening her spine. She’d made a mistake. Maybe this would help her to keep from repeating it.
I don’t want any of them, though. There’s no way they can make me feel as good as James does.
She shut that thought down real fast. But it was no use. It wormed its way into the back of her brain, its presence small but nagging all the same. It didn’t matter how good the sex was with James, or how he never seemed to react the way she expected during their conversations. Even if she’d been willing to consider… anything… with him, it was a moot point.
He wasn’t on the list.
End of story.
Aileen picked up the paper, a tiny line appearing between her brows as she looked it over. “Take both the Marrow boy and Atcherberg off the list. I can’t believe your father would stoop so low.” Her green eyes flashed. “Marrow just buried his third wife. And Atcherberg has a gambling problem that is already beggaring his family.”
She didn’t ask how her mother knew these things. There was no point when she was, in all reality, most likely right. Carrigan fought back a sigh. “Then my potential list is down from six to three.” After today it would shrink even further. She looked at her mother, all the things she couldn’t say pressed against the inside of her lips. Please don’t make me do this. Please don’t make me marry some stranger to further the family’s interests. Please, please, please. It was a little girl’s cry into the dark, begging the monster not to be real.
If Aileen saw what she was thinking—and the way she pressed her lips together said she sure as hell did—she ignored it. She set the list back on Carrigan’s bed. “That will make things simpler. Now, this wasn’t why I came looking for you.” She straightened and smoothed her hands over her perfectly pressed green dress. “You haven’t been in to get the final fitting for your bridesmaid’s dress yet.”
The wedding. Of course. She should have known it wasn’t concern for her well-being that had her mother searching her out. These days everything seemed to boil down to Teague and Callie’s wedding. “I’m surprised you need me in there at all. Don’t you know our measurements by heart?”
“Carrigan, don’t be cheeky. The wedding is a little over a week away. Make it a priority. I won’t have you in an ill-fitting dress.”