Page 30 of Temptation at His Door

Ronan raised his eyebrows. “And?”

What did Ronan want him to say? That seeing Beah was both pleasure and pain, that sitting across the table from her was an exercise in torture when all he wanted to do was take her to bed?

Later, he’d acted on that impulse and he and Beah did get up close, personal and very, very naked. Making love to Beah had been better than he remembered.

Then again, they’d always been good in bed; naked they were fine, but when they dressed, they argued about everything.

Finn shrugged. “We didn’t kill each other.”

Then Finn remembered Beah had agreed to help organize a mutual friend’s wedding. He sighed. By the time Ben and Piper exchanged vows, there was a healthy chance one or both of them would end up dead or wounded. Or worse.

He had no intention of explaining any of that to Ronan so Finn changed the subject. “Cummings agreed to move his collection through us and is working with Beah.”

“Yeah, she told me. She also has a couple of clients in Asia who are interested in Isabel’s Vermeer and the possible Homer—”

“It is a Homer, trust me.”

“You might be right but unfortunately, your gut instinct isn’t proof,” Ronan responded, his tone dry.

Because Isabel’s collection was such an important sale, Beah would be flying into Boston to attend their in-house meetings to discuss interest and values and possible buyers. During that time, she’d also help him organize the wedding.

He was both excited and terrified at the thought of having his gorgeous, arty, fiercely intelligent wife back in Boston.

Ex-wife. Whatever.

Finn glanced at his watch and saw that he was running late. “I have to get over to Mounton House. I need to do another sweep of the premises, make sure that I haven’t missed anything important before the film crew moves in.”

Ronan’s frown was part pain, mostly curiosity. “What film crew?”

“Apparently Isabel rented the house to a film crew for a couple weeks, or months. Not sure how long... Anyway, they are moving in next week.”

“Keely and Joa are going to hate sharing their house with a lot of people,” Ronan said.

“They have to move out, that’s part of the deal. Keely went to Florida. I’m not sure what Joa is going to do,” Finn explained.

Ronan straightened his spine, his eyes turning the color of dangerous ice. “Joa is moving out?”

Was he not speaking English? That was what he’d said. “Apparently.”

Ronan pushed his chair back and stood up, picking up his phone and wallet off his desk. “You said that you are heading over there?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, you can give me a ride,” Ronan stated, his words clipped.

Finn stared at Ronan’s back as he strode past, his expression furious. Finn thought he heard something along the lines of Joa being an impossible woman and driving him crazy and suddenly he had the answer to his earlier question.

Ronan had hit the bottle because of a woman. A woman who wasn’t his dead wife.

Finn couldn’t be happier. He was also ecstatic because he’d managed to have a conversation with Ronan that didn’t include “death wish” and “reckless.”

It was turning out to be a decent day.

Eight

Joa was sitting cross-legged on her massive double bed, her laptop on her lap, searching for rental properties when she heard large feet hitting the stairs and stopping on the landing just outside her room. Since her bedroom was on the third floor, she knew that whoever was up here was either lost—an easy feat in a house the size of Mounton House—or looking for her.

“Joa!”

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