She had no idea. If she was smart, she’d make polite conversation through dinner and get out of here as quickly as she could. This man wasn’t anything like what she’d expected, and that made him dangerous. But she found herself asking, “Do you like being an O’Malley?”
He looked away and took a long drink from his glass. “Do you always go straight for the throat? You could have eased me in with something simple like my favorite color.”
It was the kind of meaningless question she should have asked. This man might be her only ally, and she should be worrying about keeping him in her corner instead of trying to figure out the way his mind worked. But she needed to know. So she waited, swirling her wine and watching him wrestle through her question.
Teague finally sighed. “No. I hate it. I’d burn the damn dynasty to the ground if I thought it’d free my siblings, but that’s not an option.”
She went still, unable to believe he’d just told her that. It was the kind of information that someone sinister could easily use against him. If she wanted to hurt the O’Malleys, cozying up to a son who hated them was a good way to go about it. “Ah.”
“You wanted to go in with the big guns, you get big answers.” He gave a humorless smile. “And it’s not new information. All you’d have to do is ask around to realize that my father and I see things differently.”
“You hate it that much?” She could barely wrap her mind around it. Callie didn’t like some of the things that being a Sheridan necessitated, but she loved other aspects of it. To her thought process, you dealt with the bad in order to do the most good. Their world was all about balance.
“Look at us, angel. We’re little more than strangers and we’re going to be married inside of four weeks. And that’s the least of my problems—no offense.”
“None taken.” Didn’t she feel exactly the same way? He seemed like a decent enough man, but he was still one that she’d known for a grand total of a single day. The difference between them was that she’d willingly do this and worse to tip the Sheridans onto the right side of the law. “I just can’t imagine hating my family.” As soon as the words were out, she wanted to take them back. It was too personal, too much, to admit to this man.
“I don’t. Not really.” He stared into his whiskey. “I just hate the things they do in the name of power.”
“I see.” And, strangely enough, she did. “There’s always good and bad, all mixed together.”
“Exactly.” He finally looked at her, pinning her in place with his gaze. “Though I’ll admit there’s more good to this situation than I would have expected.”
Desire rose up in a tidal wave that had shivers working their way through her body. Good lord, the man knew how to turn a conversation into something else entirely with a single look. She reached for her wine again, only to find the glass empty. Keep it together, Callie. You know how to flirt.
Yes, she did. But this wasn’t harmless flirting. Nothing about Teague was harmless. He saw too much. He was an O’Malley. And, perhaps most importantly, he was going to be her husband in a very short time.
He seemed to realize her mind was going a million miles a second, because he sat back, breaking the moment. “Now I have a question for you.”
“Yes?” She put as much nonchalance into her tone as she possibly could. The candlelight played along his cheekbones and jaw, the shadows dancing over his cheeks, following a path her fingers itched to trace. What was wrong with her? She should be focusing on what their next move was, not on how intimate it was to sit this close to him.
“Would you have actually married Brendan if someone hadn’t done you the favor of offing him?”
She looked into his dark eyes and couldn’t lie. “No.” That man was a monster. She might regret the events that had brought her to that horrible strip club and put a gun into her hands, but once she knew the truth about him, she never could have signed her life away to him. And if it took her all of a week to find out what kind of man he was, Papa should have known a long time ago. She shifted, the realization