SILENT VOWS

33

Keir and I both looked at my father, whose black eyes cut to me.

“I’m not sure it’s appropriate for her to be alone with another man before the wedding.” Dad shifted uncomfortably just as Sante entered the room, inserting himself into our conversation.

“I’d be happy to go with Noemi.” My brother leaned in to shake hands with Keir. “Sante Mancini, Noemi’s brother. You must be Keir Byrne.” He so desperately wanted to be a man and to help me. It broke my heart because he was so clueless. Dad would never agree to us going without supervision.

“That’s kind of you to offer, Sante,” Keir responded. “But surely your father wouldn’t be giving his daughter away if he thought we didn’t have the ability to keep her safe.”

Displeasure deepened the creases of my father’s face. Any argument on his behalf would be a blatant disrespect to Keir and the entire Byrne family. He had no choice but to agree, and Keir knew it.

“Of course, I trust you. But she is my only baby girl. I’d hate to damage her reputation so close to the wedding. If we sent one of my men along with you, that would ease my mind.” Dad tried another tack.

Keir stared unflinchingly at my father. “And I would understand your concern if anyone beyond our two families had asked, but Conner is my cousin. It’s hardly inappropriate for me to aid in escorting her.”

I couldn’t believe Keir was arguing with my father. Most men wouldn’t have bothered pushing the issue, but Keir clearly wasn’t most men. He wasn’t about to back down, and my father must have sensed it.

“I suppose a quick visit to your grandparents won’t be a problem.” His eyes cut to mine, and I wondered what this would mean for me. No doubt I’d find out later once our guest had left.

My hand absently covered the cuff bracelet I’d worn over my right wrist all day to hide the mottled bruising.

“Tell me, Noemi, do you have any hobbies or interests?” Keir asked, putting an end to the debate.

Music. I used to sing all the time but only for myself. I tried to write extra neat, feeling an inexplicable need to gain the Irish mobster’s respect. Something about him induced a desire to impress.

“Any particular genre?”

I appreciated that he didn’t give any empty assurances that I was sure to recover my voice. Deceiving everyone was bad enough. I only felt worse when people tried to console me.

All kinds, but especially ballads with meaningful lyrics. I wasn’t sure why I was sharing any more about myself than the bare minimum. Again, it was just something about him.

Before he could comment, the front door chimed. We all watched Sante stroll to the entrance, then Conner’s baritone voice filtered into the room and feathered across my skin.

When he rounded the corner, he was the epitome of cool indifference. I would have believed it if his gaze hadn’t burned my skin when it drifted from Keir to me.

“Did I have our timing wrong?” Conner asked casually.

“No,” Keir assured him in that perfectly schooled voice of his. “I wasn’t afforded the opportunity to meet your lovely bride previously, so I thought I’d come by a few minutes early.”

Was that challenge in Keir’s aqua gaze?

Most likely, considering the displeasure rolling off Conner in waves. “Had I known you wanted an introduction, I would have been happy to help.”

Finally, the tiniest break in Keir’s icy demeanor—a smile wrought with wicked amusement. “You know better than to think I need your help with an introduction.”

“Speaking of introductions,” my father cut in. “Keir suggested he take Noemi to meet your grandparents tomorrow.”

Keir’s head slowly swiveled to stare at my father. For the first time I could ever recall witnessing, my father blanched.

“That’s very thoughtful of him,” Conner murmured impassively. “Gentlemen, should we get to business?”

“Of course,” Keir agreed. “We can’t have any hostile Albanians causing problems at such an important wedding. Noemi, it’s been a pleasure. I look forward to chatting more in the morning. Say ten?”

I nodded, a wave of awkward uncertainty perching high over my head.

Keir nodded respectfully, then gestured for Dad to lead the way. The two men and my brother followed my father out of the room, Conner searing me with an angry stare on his way.

My bones dissolved like sugar cubes in hot water the second I was alone. I fell back onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, needing a minute to recover before I could throw together a sandwich and drag myself upstairs. It looked like Dad would be working through dinner, and I was more than happy to hide for the rest of the night.

Thinking my drama with overbearing Irishmen was over for the evening, I ate my turkey and cheese, then changed into my pajamas. Growing up with a little brother meant it was habit for me to change in the bathroom. Sante rarely entered my room unannounced anymore, so I was surprised when I opened the door and found my room occupied. Only, it wasn’t my brother standing at my bedroom window.

“Conner, what are you doing up here?” I whispered, my eyes cutting to the open bedroom door.

He slowly turned and leveled me with his unrelenting stare.

I’d worried about dealing with my father after their meeting, but I hadn’t mentally prepared for six feet two of blistering anger devouring me. “You need to stay the f**k away from Keir.” The velvet darkness of his voice raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

“He’s your cousin,” I hissed quietly, eyes again straying to the doorway. “What exactly do you think is going to happen?”