Page 59 of Ireland

“I mean, the way he looked at you… It made me melt,” Alina said. “Not just because he was obviously hot for you but because he was so gentle with you, too. Was he tender in bed?”

“No.” The memories Ireland wished she could avoid flooded her mind, and she abruptly overheated for a different reason than moving furniture around. “Though not for lack of trying,” she conceded. “I was too impatient.”

And she was a woman who usually needed heavy petting and her own fingers on her clit to orgasm during sex. But Ronan’s desire, confidence, and searing sensuality were perfect foreplay for her. He turned her on just breathing.

Alina’s mouth twisted with regret. “Gorgeous, sexy, well-hung. Of course he’s an asshole.”

Ireland stood back and studied the desk’s new placement against the newly painted wall. While she knew it was necessary to take over both her father’s office and her grandfather’s desk to solidify her new position from the get-go, the reality of it weighed as heavy as grief. She’d called Alina, crying, worrying that she was doing everything wrong already and would only make things worse.

And Alina had come through as always, showing up with Chinese takeout, a can of pale blue paint she said matched Ireland’s eyes, and a huge tote bag carrying drop cloths, paint brushes, rollers and a pan, along with a framed photo of the two of them, and some tchotchkes.

Gotta make the space your own, she’d said.

In short order, they’d painted the wall at one end of the room, then decided that rather than the desk being the first thing visitors saw when they entered her new office, they’d move it further in and shift it ninety degrees. Except for the desks, everything from her old office had been relocated to the new one, and all of her dad’s stuff now occupied her former space.

While Ireland expected the transition to be rough on her dad for a bit, she thought it’d be good for him to use her glass desk. His job would be a lot lighter now and expressing that visually could help solidify that for him and the rest of the Vidal team.

The phone rang, and she spun, searching for and finding it on the floor where the desk had previously been. “Shit. Did we check if there’s a phone jack on this side of the room?”

“Uh… Didn’t think about that.”

Ireland hurried over and grabbed the receiver, noting that the call was coming from the security desk downstairs. “Hey, Jimmy.”

“McCaffrey’s on his way up.”

She froze. “Wait! What?”

“I told him you weren’t here, but he said he’d see for himself. He’s on the permanent list so I couldn’t stop him.”

“How is he—?” But she realized Jules or Claudette must have seen to that detail while they were here. Or else it was routine for shareholders to be on the list. When she and Ronan had stopped by together that morning, he’d followed her up to the offices much quicker than most visitors.

“Damn.” She hated the little—okay, big—thrill she felt because Ronan was trying so hard to get to her.

“He’s real pissed, Ireland. Want me to come up?”

The prickle of awareness between her shoulder blades told her it was already too late. She turned slowly around. “No, that’s okay,” she said, her gaze locking with one of tumultuous gray. “I can handle him. Thanks.”

Those stormy eyes were narrowed on her as she reached down and dropped the receiver into its cradle. Ronan filled the threshold of her dad’s—her—office. He was wearing a blend of the day’s outfits: the dress shirt from the morning paired with the jeans he’d pulled on for lunch. Of course, the collar was open, and the sleeves rolled up. Of course, his hair was a luscious, luxuriant mane. Of course, he was gorgeous and roguishly sexy and everything she hadn’t known she needed.

The sight of him sparked fierce joy, desire, and anger in equal measure. She was now intimately familiar with his leanly muscular body. As badly as she’d craved him before, the hunger was worse now that she knew what sex with him was like.

“You know,” Alina began, coming to stand beside her with militantly crossed arms, “I was really pulling for you, Ronan. Ithought maybe you had something more to offer than a pretty face, but you’re just another idiot who’s too stupid to realize you landed a goddess.”

“Not true.” Ronan’s voice was clipped with fury. “I realized what I had in front of me from the first. For no other reason would I have gotten myself into thismisère.”

Alina made a littleawwsound and shot a questioning glance at Ireland.

Ireland scowled and flipped him the bird.

“Very mature,” he shot back. “Equal to avoiding my calls all day.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Tough.” He glanced at her father’s name plate on the wall outside the door, which she hadn’t yet swapped out. His jaw tightened. “What are you doing,cher?Do you even know?”

“Fuck you. You don’t get to come in here and tell me I’m incapable.”

“That isn’t at all what I said.” His tone was too controlled, his temper honing the edge of his drawl. “You’re choosing something you don’t care for over someone you do. Why?”

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