Irish Brute: An Irish Mafia Jane Eyre Retelling Billionaire Marriage of Convenience Romance by Alix Key

Author:Alix Key [Key, Alix]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Diamond Freeport Press
Published: 2024-07-11T00:00:00+00:00

21

SAMANTHA

“If you turn to page twenty-seven, you’ll see the relevant language.” As I wait for Trap to catch up, I switch on my desk lamp.

“Where am I looking?” Trap looks frustrated on the video feed. We’ve been going over this insurance contract for more than an hour.

“The paragraph with the heading Subrogation. You have the right⁠—”

I cut myself off as Braiden strides into my office. He’s confident as a lion, all lean muscle behind his sharp-toothed smile. He’s wearing yet another of his expertly tailored suits, complete with a flawless white shirt.

He holds the pink flowered skirt in his right fist.

“Shit,” I say.

Trap looks up from his copy of the contract. “What’s wrong?”

Braiden moves behind me. “Nothing serious,” he says.

He’s lying. What’s wrong is very serious. Braiden set a rule, and I broke it, and now I have to pay.

When I don’t come up with a diversion quickly enough, Braiden smiles at my boss and says, “Samantha just remembered we had plans for dinner. Our first Valentine’s Day together.”

Trap’s gaze goes to the corner of his screen. “I didn’t realize how late it is.”

“Give my best to Herself,” Braiden says like a perfect gentleman. But he reaches across me to end the call before I have a chance to wrap things up.

“You can’t do that!” I yelp.

“I just did.” He spins my chair around, trapping me with his body.

“Trap Prince is my boss.”

I’m thoroughly pissed. It’s one thing for Braiden and me to play in the privacy of this castle he calls home. I’ll admit that his bossy arrogance turns me on. I enjoy fighting with him. Losing to him.

However, my professional life is completely separate from those games. He doesn’t have the right to embarrass me in front of the man who pays my salary.

Braiden apparently thinks otherwise. With a deceptively mild voice he asks, “What time is it?”

I glance at the clock on my computer screen. “6:07.”

“6:07, sir,” he prompts.

I snort my opinion of his bossy honorific.

Without changing his expression, Braiden throws me over his shoulder. I’m so astonished, I forget to fight for a moment, but then I pound his back with both fists. My belly is pressed into his shoulder, so it’s hard to grab a full breath. I twist in his grip, trying to squirm free, but he merely swats my bottom, hard enough to make me shriek. I try kneeing him in the chest, but I can’t get the angle right.

He carries me down the hall. Across the landing at the top of the stairs. Past Aiofe’s nursery. Past my room. Into his bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Put me down!” I manage to shout as he slams the door closed.

“Sir,” he reminds me.

“I’m not saying that. I’ve never said that, not like you mean.”

“Why don’t we agree up front there are a lot of things you’re going to do tonight that you’ve never done before.”

As nerves explode in my belly, he shoots the deadbolt on the door. Why does a man have a deadbolt on his fucking bedroom door? What the hell am I doing here?

He dumps me on the mattress.

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