Page 209 of Sweet Temptation

“What?” I said to Ronan. He was staring at me. “We took a cab,” I reminded him. “There’s a reason.”

“Yeah, so I could have a drink and not worry.”

“About…?” I prodded. “We’ve got security.”

Our security was, at the moment, eying us while he ate a plate of wings.

“About my defenses slipping,” Ronan muttered.

Defenses?

“With me?” I asked innocently. “Or you mean… your security guy super-senses?”

“I’ll have the second drink, but that’s it.”

I noticed he didn’t answer my question.

“Hmm. I wonder what you’d be like if your defenses slipped…”

Tantalizing. That question was way too tantalizing to not want an answer to.

“A shit show,” he supplied.

I laughed. “What?”

“I get goofy when I get drunk.”

“Goofy? I can’t picture goofy on you.”

Ronan just went back to his food. Our drinks came, and I finished my first Crantini in one fell swoop. I was still examining that comment…

“I need more information,” I decided. “What do you mean by goofy? You get… clumsy? Silly?”

“More like… nice.”

I laughed again. “What?”

“I’ve been told I’m much nicer when I’m drunk.”

“And in your world… nice equals goofy?”

“It is when you can’t control your tongue.”

I stared at him. “You are so getting drunk tonight.”

He chuckled, but he looked uncomfortable. I’d never seen the man look this uncomfortable before.

Well, except for when I stripped down in front of him for the first time—repeatedly—in Devoid’s studio.

“You are so afraid of losing your filter and saying what’s on your mind in front of me.”

He said nothing.

“You don’t like losing control. I get that, you know.” I sipped my second drink. “I feel the same way.”

“Right. That’s bullshit.”

“How?”

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