Capítulo 8: SYLUS: A Brat With A B

This had to be some kind of joke. I squinted my eyes at the woman who still laid comfortably on my bed, like she owned it, her hair all over the pillow as if it belonged to her.

I'd returned only to find Harley gone and assumed she listened to my warnings, but I'd unfortunately woken up in the morning to find her asleep on my bed, right next to me.

Did she have a death wish or was she just deaf in one ear? It had to be the latter.

This wasn't what I'd expected, not her! Harley was everything I didn't like—difficult and crazy. There was no sense of idiocy in her eyes; no, she was clever, I can see it. Damn Amadeo, that cunning old bastard.

An unwanted headache filled me, and I took a deep breath to settle my nerves. Where the heck did she even fit into my life? Harley was uncontrolled, I'd never had to deal with a woman like her, not once in my life. The worst part of it was that she was not in any way bad-looking. She was mixed, American and Korean; I'd already received every piece of data I needed on her.

Harley was beautiful and slender in all the right ways. Her hair was so black, and her eyes were the palest blue I'd ever seen, big and adorned with dark long lashes that rested atop her under eye. I'd never seen a woman look that good. Mere looking at her, no one would be able to guess the kind of person she was. No, she looked so gentle, soft, and timid in the eyes… until she opened her mouth.

"I can feel you staring at me even in my dreams. That's very creepy, grumpy Jones."

Grumpy Jones? Why is she even calling me that?

She yawned, and I watched her sit up on the bed to stretch her small muscles. I'd find that adorable if she didn't annoy me so much.

"You still returned to my bed, huh?" I muttered, tugging on a button-up shirt. I walked over to the chair to take a seat and all the while, I could feel her eyes on me. Still, I didn't meet her gaze and instead reached for my cup of coffee and picked up my phone, intent on distracting myself and getting her out of my mind.

"Are you surprised?" she asked.

I looked at her.

"Sylus, I never said I was going to leave. I only went to the shower to fix my hair like you wanted. Did you think I wasn't going to come back?"

Yes, yes, I thought you wouldn't!

She grinned at me as if she could hear my thoughts and crawled over to the edge of the bed to settle her feet on the floor.

The headache I felt intensified, and I drew a long hiss.

"I want to eat, Sylus, so I'm going to brush my teeth. Feed me when I'm back." She bounced on her feet as she headed for my bathroom, and quickly, I frowned.

"My bathroom? What are you looking for in there?"

"To brush my teeth, what else?"

"Don't tell me you have your brush in there."

"I do." Her smile, annoyingly pretty, stretched wider. "My clothes are even in your closet." She added before I could speak, "Dont worry, I didn't make a mess."

She turned on her heels to leave, but stopped suddenly, a chuckle bubbling out of her. "Sylus, do you know you sleep like a princess, by the way?"

"What?" I snapped, scowling.

"All the while I did this the whole night, you had no idea. You could easily get assassinated."

Assassinated?

I huffed a laugh, amused. "You're not a threat and you weren't. I can taste them, feel them, so if you were one, my body would have instictively reacted to your presence and—" I made a pistol sign with my fingers.

And she gasped.

"A bullet would have gone through your head before I'm even fully conscious."

"Ya!" A wide smile bloomed on her face like a child who saw candy for the first time. "That's so hot…"

What the…

I bit into my lip, stifling the laugh that rested on my tongue and stared at her with an incredulous look. "You're unbelivable. Has anyone ever told you you're—"

"Crazy?" She nodded her head, biting her very red lips with a smile. "Countless times, husband! It's a shame you said I wasn't the kind of woman you'd prefer, because you're in for more disappointment." The smile vanished from her face as she added, "You will not be getting a meek wife out of me, at least until I make you send me back home."

"Send you back home?" My eyes narrowed a fraction, watching her with interest. "You want to disappoint your father?"

"Bingo," she said evenly. "That is the goal. He threatened me with a lot of things I can't afford to loose, so running away from this marriage is not an option. BUT! If I do get to make you send me back home willingly, then there will be nothing he can do about it."

My displeasure was instantaneous, a match to gasoline, and I asked, "What makes you think I would ever do that?"

"Oh, you will. You will, husband." Those blue eyes, so pale, they were almost white, narrowed along as her lips stretched into a sure smile. "You will." And she turned, heading for the bathroom.

The death grip I had on my phone tightened, and I lowered my head with resignation. Harley was a brat with a capital 'B' annoying, irritating, everything you could possibly think of.

Truly Amadeo Legan's daughter.

A day only, and she was driving me crazy, I could almost say 'To hell with the contract' but I was a Jones for a reason, and if she thought she could crawl under the skin of a man like me, she was solely mistaken.

This game she'd created between us, this insanity, she'll end up on the losing end. Sure, she'd won this round, but next time, she wouldn't be able to get away with just bulldozing into my space however she saw fit.

That much, I can promise my new wife.

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