Page 65 of Sweet Temptation

“Good.”

He flipped his notepad closed. “Saving your life interesting enough for you?”

Yup. The man could serve the sass right back, in his dry, ultra-serious way.

Unfortunately, I kinda liked it.

“I guess it’ll have to do for now. And you haven’t saved my life yet.”

“Saved you from a car accident.” He held my gaze. “Do I get points for that?”

“You’re right. That was decidedly non-boring.”

He tore his eyes away. He got up and tucked his notepad and pen in his pocket. “I’ll help clean up.”

“You will not.” I swept his dirty dishes away and started cleaning up. “I can fill my own dishwasher. What do I owe you for the meal?”

“It’s on me,” he said, and when I gave him a look, he added, “I insist.”

“Fine. I mean… thank you.”

He nodded and started to turn away.

“Would you like a drink?” I blurted.

“No, thank you,” he said. “I don’t drink with clients.” Then he disappeared up the hall to the guest room.

Well, now. There was a rule I definitely didn’t love.

I cleaned up, and as I did, I tried to process everything he’d said.

He seemed totally sincere in wanting to keep me safe. He seemed devoted to his work. And I did believe my friends who’d told me he was the best in the business.

I really tried to accept that all these changes were being implemented in my best interest. To keep me safe and secure.

But I still didn’t like any of it.

* * *

Many hours later, when I emerged from my music studio totally spent and ready to fall into bed, I found the house quiet and dark.

It was the middle of the night, and only a single light had been left on. I followed the slight glow; the light was on over the stove.

Ronan was sleeping on my living room couch, with no blanket. His laptop was open but in sleep mode, right next to him. Looked like he’d fallen asleep in the middle of working.

What the hell.

I’d told him he could sleep in the guest room.

The instant I walked into the room, he was already waking up. He sat up, alert.

“Oops,” I said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I totally did.

“What kind of bodyguard would I be if I slept through you banging around the room?” he muttered.

Jesus. He just woke up, and already with the dry sass.

---