Page 41 of Kiss Me, Mr. Bridge

“Art. Paint. Sculpt. Do whatever your heart desires.”

I bite my lower lip, remembering the sketchbooks hidden under my bed, the dreams I pushed aside for a “sensible” career. But… “I like my job. Some clients, not so much.”

He laughs. It’s so deep that the sound vibrates through his chest where my hands rest. Then he stops laughing and stares at me. The late morning sun sparkles in his gray eyes, turning them almost silver. But it’s the way he’s looking at me that makes my breath catch. “You’re more precious than any artwork in the Louvre, you know that?”

My heart thunders against my ribcage, but I want more. I want to hear everything. Including the things he hides.

My fingers trace idle patterns on his chest, feeling his heartbeat through his expensive shirt. “What do you want, Ronan?” It’s the question I’ve wanted the answer to since we discussed what I wanted from life. “You never told me.”

He meets my gaze, and the intensity there makes me shiver. “I’d like a baby. I got it so wrong with my other three kids. I wish I’d been around more for all of them.”

The confession hits me hard. “That’s why you pay for everything?” My voice softens as understanding dawns. “To make up for not being there when they were younger?”

He nods, and I see the pain flash across his face. “It’s the biggest regret of my life.”

“So you’re telling me to warn me?” A breeze off the river ruffles my hair, and he tucks the strand behind my ear with such tenderness it makes my heart ache.

“No, I’m telling you because as soon as you’re ready, I am.” He cups my face in his hands, they warm my cool skin. “I don’t want to wait with you. I want it all. And I want to do it right this time. With you.”

I lean into his touch, feeling tears well up in my eyes. The morning bustle of Paris continues around us—waiters calling out orders, tourists chatting—but at this moment, it’s just us. “You really mean that?”

“Every word.” His thumb brushes away another tear. “I love you, Lucia Simmons. Let me prove it to you every day.”

The words make my heart flip, and for the first time in too many years, I don’t feel alone.

“I love you too, Mr. Bridge.”

I can’t believe this is happening. One minute I’m exploring the Louvre, feeling lost and alone, and the next Ronan Bridge is declaring his love for me in a charming Parisian café.

My heart is still racing from his passionate kiss.

Now, we’re back in my hotel room, and he’s pressed against me, his strong hands gripping my hips as he bends me over the table. My wrists are tied to the legs, leaving me at his mercy. Just as he likes it.

Not that I’m complaining. Ronan’s tongue is doing sinful things between my legs, and I can’t hold back a groan of pure bliss. But just as he slides his finger inside me, my phone rings.

“Miss Simmons’s phone. How may I help you?” Ronan answers, his voice low and seductive. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out.

“I’m sorry, she’s tied up at the moment,” he says, and I can’t help but giggle. The sound is quickly followed by a sharp sting as he slaps my ass cheek.

“I’ll just put you on loud speaker because I’m busy myself.”

“Who is this?” Jack, my ex-boyfriend, demands on the other end of the line.

Ronan makes sure he can hear everything - the slurping sounds, my muffled whimpers.

“This is the man who is currently fucking his future wife. A man who won’t fuck up and lose her again, Jack.”

“Put Lucia on. She wouldn’t—”

“Goodbye, Jack.” Ronan ends the call and covers my body with his, kissing a trail up my neck.

“Possessive much?” I tease, my voice breathy.

He chuckles, the vibration of it sending shivers down my spine. “You have no idea, sweetheart.” Ronan nips at my earlobe. “I want everyone to know I’m never letting you go. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Everyone?”

“You’re mine…everyone.”

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