Page 10 of Ireland

“Elizabeth.” Ireland gave her middle name before she really examined why. “Or Liz. Lizzie. Beth. I’m not picky.”

Jules rocked back on his heels. “Lizzie it is then.”

Neither of Ronan’s siblings looked like him. Their hair was darker, their skin paler, and their eyes were a soft brown.

Ireland looked at him with a wistful smile. “As much as I’d like to keep chatting with you, Ronan, don’t let me throw off your plans.”

“Too late for that,cher.” He narrowed his gaze with warning when Jules laughed.

“Leave him behind,” Jules told her. “Come make mischief with Claudy and me instead.”

If not for her fascination with Ronan, she might have taken his younger brother up on his offer. She loved to explore the city with people who came from elsewhere. They saw New York in ways she never had because she’d been born here and took it for granted.

“Ah…” Ireland hesitated and glanced at Ronan.

He gave a curt shake of his head. “Pass a good time, you two, but donotget into trouble.”

“I brought bail money,” Claudette said deadpan, but there was laughter in her eyes.

“Behave yourselves,” Ronan reiterated.

“I’ll be disappointed ifyoubehave,” Jules retorted. “Let’s go, Claudy. I’m starving.À bientôt, Lizzie.”

She watched the two weave their way back through the crowded space. “I hope you and your brother let Claudette have fun. Going out with my brothers is like being escorted by the Secret Service—no one gets close.”

“Two brothers?”

Ireland turned back to him. “Yes, both older. I love them to death, but I’m pretty sure one wants me to become a nun, and the other wants me to wait until I’m geriatric to settle down.”

“I understand why they’re protective.” His mouth curved. “You’re very sure of yourself. You considered going when Jules asked.”

“If you left with them and wanted me to go, yes. I would have.” She settled back into her seat. “Did you want to spend more time with me alone, or did you just not want to go out?”

“I want you.”

“Well…” Ireland ran the tip of her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. “You weren’t kidding. You’re an exceptional flirt.”

“You know we’ve moved past flirting.” He leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. All the indolence he’d displayed before was tossed aside like a discarded mask. “The question now is, how far do you want this to go?”

Ronan sat in front of her, framed by the sapphire blue velvet of the loveseat—legs spread, hands linked—and looked like a king in a sultry underworld.

She wanted to be sophisticated enough to play his game but knew when she was outmatched. “I don’t know,” she said with brutal honesty. “I know if I leave now, I’ll regret it, but if I stay, I might regret that, too.”

He held out his hand to her.

Reaching for him felt like making a deal with the devil, but when she did, she was inundated with a red-hot, sizzling sexual attraction. It was heady and overwhelming. She’d never experienced anything like it. It was lust on another level, heightened by her intense interest. Yes, she wanted him. But just sitting with him, talking to him, was satisfying, too.

“Do you remember the first thing I told you?” he asked, holding her fingers lightly. “That hasn’t changed.”

Ireland frowned, confused.I’m not looking for a hookup.

“And you said,” he went on, “that you make bad choices. So, get to know me. See who I am. And let me see you.”

Her fingers tightened reflexively on his. She felt like she was careening out of control, but holding on to him made the sensation seem less scary, and she didn’t know why. It made nosense when he was the reason she was spinning. “This is really intense, Ronan.”

“Do I frighten you?”

“You should. I don’t know why you’re not.”

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