Page 35 of Ireland

“You really need to tell him who you are,” Alina told her. “Better if you bring it up than wait for him to do so. You’ve got an understandable reason for not telling him. I’m sure he’ll see that.”

“I don’t know. It might not be an issue if we’d just been hanging out for a few days, but we’ve been so honest with each other about so many personal things. He might feel like his trust in me wasn’t reciprocated. Oh, god. That’s probably what he wants to talk about. And he didn’t agree to dinner.” Closing her eyes, she groaned. “I’ve screwed this up already.”

“I’m sure he didn’t see them,” Alina assured her. “He didn’t seem at all turned off by it if he had. I wouldn’t worry about it. Just give him a call and tell him.”

We just have some things to discuss first.

Not worrying was easier said than done.

Ireland’s call to Ronan’s phone went straight to voicemail—again. The first time, she’d merely said,Tag, you’re it. The second time, she told him,I just wanted to hear your sexy voice.

This time, she sighed and bit the bullet. “Hey, you. This is the last time I’m calling, I promise. It’s just that I have a black-tie event on Friday night and was hoping you’d agree to be my plus-one. In the spirit of transparency, you should know my entire family will be there, too, but it’s a party with hundreds of people, games, auctions, and entertainment, so we’d have fun. Anyway, I’m going to be optimistic and put your name on the guest list. Just remind me, if I forget, that it’s one of thethingswe’re discussing tomorrow. Have a good night, handsome. Sweet dreams.”

She killed the call and clutched her phone, anxious and a little bit scared. Was Ronan avoiding her? He’d never not taken her calls or answered her texts. And getting sent straight to voicemail meant his phone was either off or he was doing it deliberately. He just didn’t strike her as the type to ghost someone. He came at things too directly.

Whimpering, she closed her eyes and let her head fall against the back of the sofa. She hadn’t been twisted up over a man in years, not since she’d fallen for a douchebag in high school. A vibrating alarm inside her made her want to hop in a cab to the Vidal Hotel. Maybe he was in Jazzie’s, dazzling an audience of captivated women like her. She’d love to see him play again, hear him sing again, and yes… feel his hard body plastered to hers again.

“Ugh.” What she should do was take these horrible feelings of unease and inadequacy as a sign to ghost him instead. She could cut him out of her life cleanly if he didn’t know who she was. The doormen could tell him there was no resident named Elizabeth Duffy, and he’d never get past them to prove otherwise. He wouldn't know where else to look for her if he hadn’t seen the photos in her hallway. And since he wasn’t from New York, he’d have to leave eventually, perhaps even immediately, once he couldn’t reach her.

She’d block and delete his number and eventually get over this silly infatuation.

Her phone rang in her hand, and she was so wound up she dropped it on the floor. Scrambling for it, she shot from the pits of despair to the heights of hope, only to be painfully disappointed when she saw her mother’s face on the screen.

Heaving a forlorn sigh, she answered, “Hey, mom.”

“Hey, back,” Elizabeth Vidal greeted her. “I hope I’m not interrupting a fun night out.”

“No, I’m hanging with Blizzard tonight.”

“How is that gorgeous creature? Please don’t say he’s gotten bigger.”

Ireland laughed, which eased some of her tension. “He’s full grown now, so no. He’s as ginormous as he’ll ever be.”

“Thank god for that. You’d have to move into a house if he got any larger. Listen, I don’t mean to keep you, but you and I need to go over some things. Could we get together for lunch tomorrow?”

Morethings? Her nose wrinkled.

“Uh… I have plans.” At least she hoped she still had plans. Even though she didn’t know what time or in what place those plans might materialize.

“This is important, Ireland.”

She sighed inwardly and stared up at the ceiling. Of course, wedding planning would be at the top of her mom’s list of immediate tasks, and she wanted to participate as much as possible. “I kept my schedule mostly clear tomorrow because Alina was due back from London. But she got home today and came over so I could stop by in the morning…? Would that work for you? Say nine?”

“Yes, that’s perfect. See you then, darling. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Hanging up, Ireland tossed her phone onto the coffee table. It added insult to injury that her mom had no trouble finding adoring men while Ireland struggled to do the same. She wasthrilled for her mother, no question. She just wished she was the same woman who’d so blithely declared on Friday that she was swearing off men. Unfortunately, the woman she was today was stupidly pining for one.

And she didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Gideon watched his wife spread cream cheese onto a mini bagel and knew something was wrong. He’d thought so the day before, but Eva had perked up over chocolates and a heating pad—he had acquired a few strategies over the years to help him feel less useless when she was menstruating—and he’d set the concern aside. But it was a new day, and his usually energetic wife was subdued and distracted.

She was dressed for comfort in wide-legged slacks in cherry red and a loose sleeveless tunic in cream silk. Ruby earrings he’d once given her as an anniversary gift winked at him between strands of her blond hair. And the full, lush lips she’d wrapped around his cock this morning were now slicked with bright red lipstick.

Coming up behind her, Gideon slid his arms around her waist and felt her jump slightly in surprise. He could rarely startle her—she was as attuned to his presence as he was to hers. They both instinctively knew when the other entered or exited a room, sight unseen.

If he’d needed proof that her thoughts were tangled up in something, he had it now.

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