Page 36 of Yours

The touch was hesitant, reluctant, but it was enough.

Her fingers were delicate, her hand light on my arm as I guided her toward the exit of my penthouse. Every step made the fabric of her gown sway, the soft rustle of it brushing against my pants like a whispered promise. The heat of her was close enough to feel, her presence electric, and I couldn’t stop the faint hum of satisfaction that settled in my chest.

This wasn’t the first time Kiera had looked beautiful. But tonight? Tonight, she was breathtaking.

“You clean up nicely,” I said, my tone casual, though I knew my words would land like a spark on kindling.

She stiffened, her fingers twitching slightly against my arm.

“Don’t push it,” she muttered, glaring at the floor.

I chuckled, the sound low and amused. “I’m only stating the obvious.”

She didn’t respond, but I caught the faintest flush spreading across her neck. She hated compliments, especially from me. And that only made it more fun to give them.

As we reached the edge of the living room, I slowed, turning slightly to look at her again. She glanced up, her fiery red hair catching the light in a way that made her green eyes glow like polished jade.

“You’re beautiful,” I said softly, my gaze lingering on the faint freckles dusting her cheeks, the delicate curve of her jaw, the way her lips pressed together as if she could stop herself from reacting.

Her cheeks flamed brighter, and she looked away quickly, her fingers tightening around my arm.

“Ronan…”

“Yes, love?” I asked, letting the endearment roll off my tongue.

She glared at me, the fire in her eyes sparking back to life.

“You don’t have to do this. Pretend to care or—or compliment me just to mess with me. I know you’re just?—”

I turned, cutting her off by tilting her chin up with my free hand. The faint hitch in her breath didn’t escape me, and I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping to a low murmur.

“Who says I’m pretending?”

Her lips parted, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared up at me. For a brief moment, I saw the flicker of uncertainty, the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide. And it only made me want her more.

As I gazed into her eyes, I felt a pang in my chest that I couldn’t explain. She didn’t belong in this world of mine—she was too fiery, too untamed, too herself.

And yet, every time she turned those stunning eyes on me, every time she pushed back when no one else dared, I felt something crack open inside me. I felt the ground shift beneath my feet, like the axis of my world was tilting toward her.

She made me feel like a man. When she looked at me, it wasn’t as Ronan O’Malley, the name whispered in fear and respect throughout the city.

It was just me.

Kiera didn’t realize it yet, but she was mine. She’d been mine from the very first moment I’d laid eyes on her. Maybe even before then, before I had the words to understand it or the courage to admit it to myself.

And I was never going to let her go.

Her fingers squeezed lightly around my arm again, breaking me from my thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, I guided her toward my private elevator, her reluctance evident in every step. I could feel the tension radiating off her, the way she tried to hold herself stiff and unyielding, but her hand tightened against my elbow just slightly every time she faltered in those adorable little kitten heels.

The girl had fire, but she was no match for me. Not now. Not ever.

I pressed the call button, and the sleek doors slid open with a quiet chime. She hesitated for a second before stepping inside, her bare arm brushing mine as she moved. The scent of her—clean and soft, with the faintest hint of whatever body wash she’d used in the shower—wrapped around me as I followed, letting the doors slide shut behind us.

As the elevator descended, I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She was staring straight ahead, her jaw tight, her cheeks still flushed from earlier. The deep green of her dress made her hair look brighter, her skin softer, her eyes piercing.

A memory surfaced without warning, vivid and sharp.

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