Page 23 of Ireland

She savored the flavor, the feel of the warm summer breeze as it caressed her skin, and her delightful and impishly seductive companion. There’d never been a more perfect afternoon.

“Tell me more about Jules and Claudette,” she urged. “Do they work with you?”

“Yes.” Settling against the tree, Ronan beckoned her to join him. When she turned around and leaned back, he adjusted her comfortably into the crook of his arm, her head nestled against his shoulder. “Claudette finds the businesses that suit our needs, and Jules tracks their performance.”

“And you?” She nestled deeper against his incredible hardness, enjoying his steady warmth at her back. “What’s your job?”

He nuzzled her temple. “I sniff out where they’re bleeding.”

“Of course you do,” she murmured, and he’d be good at it.

“Are you hungry?” he whispered behind her ear, making her shiver. “There’s fried chicken, cornbread muffins, red beans andrice, salad, peach cobbler, and iced tea—all from Valentin and Genevieve.”

If anyone had told her the recitation of a menu could be a turn-on, Ireland would’ve laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Now she knew better.

“It all sounds amazing.” She turned her head to rest her cheek against his chest and breathed him in. “But I just want to stay here for a while.”

Ronan wrapped his arm around her waist. “Stay as long as you like,cher. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eva tried to slow her steps so that she didn’t tug on her husband’s hand, but she was growing impatient and starting to feel like her attempt at non-meddling was fruitless.

“If I’d known you had this much energy,” Gideon said, his other hand holding Lucky’s leash, “I would’ve gone for Round Two before letting you out of bed this morning.”

“Fiend,” she chastised absently as they crossed the Bow Bridge. “You act like two orgasms don’t count as two rounds. And we haven’t taken our time in the Park since forever.”

When they reached the dappled path on the other side of the Lake, she turned right, taking them in the opposite direction from their home. Behind them, their security detail began crossing over the bridge.

“Are you planning on surveying the entire eight hundred forty-three acres?” he asked.

When he said it like that, her goal really did sound ludicrous.

She slid a sidelong glance his way, but when she caught his teasing smile, she found herself staring. God, he was gorgeous. And it was totally effortless for him. He was dressed casuallyin shorts and a white V-neck T-shirt, with black wayfarer sunglasses shielding those brilliantly blue eyes. A breeze swept through his inky hair, and her synapses fried momentarily.

With effort, Eva shook it off and looked away, returning to her furtive search of the grassy area to her left. “Stop distracting me, ace.”

“What exactly am I distracting you from?”

Oops. She scrambled for something to say. “I’m planning a seduction in my head if you must know.”

“How intriguing. Let’s discuss.”

“It’s not a surprise if I tell you about it in advance,” she muttered, startled by the number of picnickers dotting the grass. Suddenly, her task seemed herculean.

“Give me a hint, then,” Gideon cajoled, then his voice changed. “Lucky, heel,” he ordered gently.

It was a command her husband seldom had to give, but then Lucky changed from pulling on the leash to darting diagonally in front of them, straining toward the grass.

Eva looked to see what was drawing him and spotted Ireland. Frantically, she scooped him up before he gave away their presence.

“What’s gotten into him?” her husband wondered.

“He probably smells food,” she improvised, trying hard not to stare as they walked past the tree that had previously hidden her sister-in-law from view. Instead, she looked at the lake and exclaimed, “Look at the swans!”

When Gideon’s head turned, she took a good long look at Ireland and her man Ronan. As impressive as he’d been in the photograph, he was much more so in the flesh. As Ireland had said, his hair had grown since the picture had been taken and the length suited him, deepening her initial impression of a man who dressed with sophistication but was, in fact, a littleuntamed. She was hyperaware of men who leaned toward being dangerous. It was a self-protective instinct she’d honed.

“The swans aren’t going to distract me from your seduction plans,” her husband pointed out with a laugh.

As Lucky wriggled in an effort to run to his owner’s sister, whom he adored, Eva tightened her grip. He chuffed in protest, his tail lashing like a whip.

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