Page 182 of Sweet Temptation

“None of my guys can find him. Jude’s had some guys on it, too. No one’s managed to track him down.”

My mouth opened. I wanted to say very angry things about that. I did not like the guys handling all this shit behind my back and leaving me in the dark.

But he spoke first.

“I just want to be sure I’ve got eyes on you at all times,” he said quickly, “until we know where he is and that he’s not gonna be a problem.” He looked like he wanted to take me in his arms… but he couldn’t. “Let me just concentrate on that for now.”

Fuck. I sympathized with him. I really did.

I knew he just wanted to make sure he was doing what was best for me.

“Okay,” I agreed, kind of shell-shocked by this information. I was annoyed. Frustrated. And a little frightened, honestly.

I knew I was safe.

But it still creeped me out.

I didn’t care about not knowing where Blair was. But knowing that he’d basically disappeared didn’t sit well.

What did it mean?

“Besides, if I’m your date…” Ronan’s gaze dropped, scanning my cleavage. “I’m gonna be all kinds of distracted. I’m distracted enough just watching your ass. So to speak.” His eyes met mine again.

He was flirting with me to change the subject. I knew that.

I fell for it anyway.

“Well, make sure you keep a close eye on it.” I smirked, trying to let him know I wasn’t freaked out by any of this. I didn’t want him any more worried about me than he already was.

Then I turned and sashayed away, enjoying the feeling of his eyes on my body.

As long as Ronan was watching my back… I felt pretty damn untouchable.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ronan

I woke up in the morning to the sound of the doorbell ringing.

I was in Summer’s bed, as usual, with her naked body flung half over mine. She groaned sleepily.

I was instantly alert.

The clock on her bedside table said it was just past ten in the morning. We’d blissfully slept in. Probably needed to after the round of aggressive sex we’d had on the stairs up to her bedroom, before stumbling the rest of the way up to bed.

That was at three a.m. or something.

I slid out from under her, whispering in her ear, “Take your time, babe. I’ll see who it is.”

She mumbled something unintelligible, buried her face in a pillow and sighed.

I pulled on last night’s jeans, which were on the floor. I was still doing up my belt as I took a look out the front window at the driveway below.

A new-looking silver Mercedes was parked in the driveway, glinting in the morning sun.

I jogged down the stairs, pulling on my shirt along the way, which I found on the stairs at the scene of last night’s screwing. I buttoned it up. Then I did my best to finger-smooth my hair, and looked through the frosted glass window next to the front door.

I could make out the forms of a couple of people. One was a woman with a handbag on her arm. She was leaning in, trying to peer through the window.

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