Read The Persuasion of Molly O'Flaherty for Free Online Page B

skin, bile rose in my throat. The memory of stinging flesh and the taste of my own tears caused me to yank my hand away faster than was polite; Mr. Cunningham’s smirk deepened as he rose back up to his full height.
    Fucking hell, Molly. Show no weakness, remember? Be a wolf or a hawk or a snake—anything but the girl you used to be.
    “How may I help you today, Mr. Cunningham? I’m afraid I have no husband yet, so if you’re expecting my engagement announcement, you will be sorely disappointed.”
    “Call me Frederick, please. I think you’ve earned that familiarity, have you not, pretty girl?” Mr. Cunningham asked, settling into an upholstered armchair. My favorite armchair, if truth be told, because it sat at the head of the room. It was impressive and the perfect shade of blue to set off my eyes.
    “I’d like to keep our acquaintance within the bounds of etiquette, if you don’t mind,” I said, doing my best not to grind my teeth together. I sat in another chair, one far enough away that I could pretend I didn’t know what that mustache felt like on my skin. Far enough that I could pretend I didn’t know exactly how selfish and ruthless he could be.
    If I try to win your hand, I am not going to play fair.
    Silas’s words from last night echoed in my memory, and I forced myself to connect them to the man sitting across from me. Frederick Cunningham was exactly why I didn’t let men fuck me, why I never ceded control of myself in the bedroom or in affairs of the heart.
    Funny though, how I had so enjoyed the ruthless, selfish side Silas had revealed to me last night…
    “As you may know, Martjin van der Sant is visiting us soon, and he will expect to meet with you, in addition to touring our docks and warehouses.”
    Van der Sant, yes. I’d almost forgotten in the fog of recent events, but van der Sant owned one of the most expansive shipping networks in the world, connecting Europe to India and China, and he was looking to partner with O’Flaherty Shipping in order to expand his reach to Iceland and Canada—places where O’Flaherty Shipping was established and thriving. A partnership between us would be mutually beneficial and profitable, with very few drawbacks. However, we needed van der Sant far more than he needed us, since we were already losing clients who wanted more access to the Eastern hemisphere, and he was a notoriously fastidious and uncompromising businessman. There had been at least two other English companies he’d come close to making an agreement with, only to pull out at the last minute because he didn’t like the state of their books or the personal habits of one of their dock managers. Everything would need to be perfect for his visit, but I wasn’t concerned. I ran O’Flaherty Shipping fastidiously. There would be no irregularities in our books, our managers were all hardworking and moral men, and I was prepared to be as discreet as possible about my own personal habits when he came to town.
    I took a deep breath and returned my attention to Mr. Cunningham. “I’m quite prepared for van der Sant’s visit, a fact of which I’m sure you’re aware. Is there another reason you needed to see me?”
    He crossed his legs, raising his chin and looking quite pleased with himself. “I came to strike a bargain,” Mr. Cunningham said.
    “I am sick of your bargains,” I said, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice.
    Mr. Cunningham smiled. “What a shame. But I think you will like this one better than our last.”
    Our last. To an outsider, it might have seemed that he was referring to the board’s demand that I marry, but we both knew better. I kept myself from crossing my legs reflexively, making sure my back was straight and my shoulders square.
    “In fact,” he continued, “I am certain you will like it. Perhaps too much; I admit, it does feel as if the board will be ceding too much in this agreement.”
    Hope, for however brief a moment, flowered within me. As