Page 28 of Temptation at His Door

Hell, how could he articulate this?

He felt damn good, relaxed and, yeah, maybe even a little happy. He should be racked with guilt, feeling like scum on a shoe, but he didn’t...

If anything, he felt guilty fornotfeeling guilty. What did that mean? What did any of it mean? Was he just so damn happy not to be sexually frustrated that he was pushing aside his guilt so he could hold on to this postorgasmic glow? All he knew for sure was that he wanted Joa again...

And again.

Ronan turned at the sound of her heels on his flooring and his heart dropped when he saw Joa standing in the doorway, holding a large leather bag, her tote bag over her shoulder. She’d brushed her hair, slicked gloss over her lips and changed into tight-fitting jeans, knee-high boots and a cream cable-knit sweater.

“I’ve called for a ride. It should be here any minute,” Joa said, meeting his eyes.

He started to make the offer to take her home but then he remembered that the boys were upstairs, that he couldn’t leave them alone. “You don’t need to go.”

As he said the words, he knew they were a lie. He did need her to leave because he couldn’t think straight when she was around. He’d be distracted by her lovely skin and her expressive eyes, his thoughts constantly returning to how she looked naked and all the things he wanted to do to her. She needed to leave so he couldthink, so he could put this entire crazy night into perspective.

Joa’s eyes drilled right through him. “We both know it’s better if I do, Ronan.” She bit her bottom lip and the fingers gripping the straps of her bag turned white. She nodded to the couch. “We both know that was a one-off thing, something inexplicable. And that it won’t ever be repeated...”

Well...

Damn.

Ronan folded his arms and silently cursed when he heard a car horn announcing Joa’s ride was here. Fighting the urge to go to her, to carry her up the stairs and into his bed, he planted his feet and hoped none of his confusion was reflected in his eyes or on his face. This situation was weird enough, complicated enough without letting Joa see how much she affected him.

Joa looked behind her and took a step back. “Will you tell the boys I had to leave, that I had fun with them?”

“Joa...”

He wasn’t sure what he was about to say but it didn’t matter because she’d stepped out of sight.Do not go after her, Murphy, don’t you damn well dare!

Ronan heard his front door open and close and closed his eyes, pushing his toes into the flooring. He heard the slam of a car door and only when he heard the vehicle pulling away did he release the breath he was holding, allow his arms to fall to his side.

Spinning around, Ronan grabbed his wine glass, drained the contents and then lifted Joa’s glass to his lips and drank that, too.

Sometimes, there was only one decent way to get out of your head. And that was to get off your head.

Finn missed his brother.

Well, he missed the guy Ronan used to be. That fun-loving, impetuous, try-anything-once guy he’d been before Thandi died. Finn had loved his sister-in-law, they all had, but a little of Thandi’s fearful attitude had rubbed off on Ronan in the years they were married, and her death had made him doubly cautious.

He was not going to like what Finn had to tell him. Finn knew how this conversation would go... He’d tell Ronan what he intended to do, Ronan would flip his lid, forbid him to do it and Finn would dig in his heels, reminding Ronan that he was an adult and could do anything he damn well pleased.

Thandi had hated Finn’s adrenaline-chasing adventures and had nagged him about being careful, about the risks he was taking, frequently telling him that the family would fall apart if he died doing something stupid.

How ironic that it was Thandi who’d died giving birth, something that billions of women did all the time.

Finn leaned his shoulder into the door frame of Ronan’s office and rubbed the back of his neck. In the days and months after Thandi’s death, he and Carrick had taken turns spending the night at Ronan’s, making sure the boys were fed and bathed and put to bed. Once that was done, they sat with their brother while he cried, stared into space or drank himself into oblivion. It was during one of those drunken rages that Ronan demanded he promise to give up adventure sports, to stop taking risks with his life.

Unable to give his brother what he wanted, Finn had compromised and told Ronan he’d always tell him when he was about to do something dangerous and it was a promise he now deeply regretted.

Ronan would hear him out, give him a thousand words and ask if there was anything he could do or say to change his mind. He’d say no and Ronan would retreat, his disapproval obvious.

Ronan took Finn’s need for speed, his chasing of bigger and better thrills, as a personal affront. For Finn, it was a way to burn off stress, to get out of his head.

Some people drank, some did drugs, some screwed their frustrations away but Finn chased adrenaline. And tried, very hard, not to die while he was doing it.

So far he’d been successful.

Well, he might as well get this over with...

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