Ronan grinned. “Your Mary would probably be surprised to hear it.”
“Ah, but I’d have taken her with me you see,” Danny told him, “for she’s the loveliest of them all.” He winked at Laura. “Give us a call if you’ve need of another beer.”
When he moved off into the crowd, stopping to chat with those he passed, Laura said, “You know everyone here, don’t you?”
“Comes from growing up in one spot.” He shrugged. “’Tis a small village after all.”
The beer was cold, the pub was warm, and the look in Ronan’s eyes when he turned to her was heated enough to melt the strongest barricades she could erect around her heart.
For two days, she’d lived in his world and watched him with those who knew him best. Here, he was still bossy and arrogant, but it was tempered with the real caring he felt for the people. He’d told her once he didn’t have any family except Sean. But he was wrong, Laura thought.
He had an entire village of family.
They all knew him. They all loved him, that was plain to see, and they were all proud of what he’d made of himself. Sitting here beside him, she was seeing a whole new side of Ronan Connolly and her heart ached at what she knew she’d soon be losing.
Since their first day in Ireland, since that afternoon at the tower, Laura had spent every moment she could with him. Days were filled with trips around the countryside, to the port city of Westport and to Galway so she could see the Cosain offices and wander through the shops. And every night, she lay in Ronan’s bed, wrapped in his arms, determined not to waste one instant of the time she had here.
“I saw the sketch you did of the round tower,” Ronan said, leaning in so that his voice was for her alone. “It was lovely.”
“Thank you.” She hadn’t bought paints in Galway, as she wouldn’t be here long enough to capture all that she wanted to on canvas. Instead, she had settled for a sketch pad and pencils, and told herself that when she was home, she would take the time to paint them all. Especially the round tower where she had willingly crossed an emotional bridge, to take what joy she could find. At home, she would bring back in oil the moments she’d had here—and then she’d torture herself by hanging them all around her house.
Depressing thought.
She took a sip of beer and half listened to the conversation Ronan was having with another man about the coming winter and who in the village needed their roof fixed before the worst of it hit.
Her gaze locked on Ronan, she realized that he had no idea just how much he loved. He tried so hard to shut the emotion out of his life, but it was there, inside him, whether he recognized it or not. He didn’t owe anyone here anything and yet, he was making plans to see that people who needed help were taken care of.
He was, she thought with a whip of anger that sliced through her internal misery, too stubborn to see the truth right in front of his eyes.
Still scowling, she turned her gaze to the door when it opened and smiled when Michael and Sinead entered the pub. The two of them looked happy, and Laura was glad to see that someone at least was getting what they wanted most.
“When’s the wedding, Sinead?” someone called out from the back of the room.
“When the banns have been read,” Michael shouted back and leaned down to kiss his bride-to-be.
Sinead laughed up at him, then stopped to talk to friends while Michael walked toward the hearth where two other young men his age waited, tuning up instruments.
“Michael’s a musician?” she asked, leaning into Ronan while Michael pulled a violin from a case.
“He is,” Ronan said, his breath brushing her skin. “And a fine one. He’s a good future ahead of him and now that he’s getting married and settling down, maybe he’ll put some work into developing it.”
Music jumped into life. Michael’s fiddle sang with a fast tempo tune that had half the patrons singing and the other half leaping into fast, complicated step dancing that would have made the Riverdance company hang their heads in shame.
Ronan draped one arm around Laura’s shoulders, and she leaned into him, smiling. One more memory, she thought, and lay her head on his shoulder.
* * *
For the next few days, all was peaceful and so Ronan’s internal warning system was on red alert. He was waiting, he thought, for the skies to open and all hell to rain down on him. Nothing could be this good for long.
His time with Laura had been a revelation to him. She’d flung herself into village life and the easy pace of things in Ireland as if born to it. At home, in California, she seemed like everyone else there, always in a hurry. But here, she found time to sit and sketch, to work with Patsy in the kitchen and to stroll the beach with him just to watch the waves crashing to shore.
And the people here, his people, loved her.
He saw it with Sinead, when she and Laura sat before the fire, talking about American music and Hollywood, which fascinated Sinead to no end at all. He saw it with Patsy, who traded her recipe for Irish soda bread for Laura’s on how best to make spaghetti sauce. He even saw it with Sean, who kept finding reasons to stop by the manor, and in the village of Dunley, where she’d already made friends.
Everywhere she went, Laura carved out a place for herself—as she had with him.
Oh, Ronan didn’t want to acknowledge it, but it was becoming damned difficult to ignore. She had etched her presence onto every corner of his home. He knew that years from now, he would still be walking into the front parlor and be able to see Laura, curled up on the sofa with a book in her hands and Deirdre at her feet.
And that didn’t even bring to mind the images he had of Laura in his bed. Moonlight across her skin, the shimmer of lamplight against her blond hair. The sigh of her breath when she lay across him in the middle of the night because she was cold. The heat of her body pressed along his and the cry of her voice when he emptied himself into her.
All of these and more were driving Ronan round the bend.
Because though his world seemed peaceful, beneath the surface, everything around him was shifting and changing and damned if he liked knowing that.
“We’ve another request for a guard from the Baileys in Dublin.”
“What?” Ronan looked up at Molly O’Hara, serving as his assistant while Brian was still away in California. Frowning, he shook his head, tried to remember what they had been talking about before his mind wandered. And, he thought with a frown, until Laura had invaded his life, he’d had no problems with concentration. “Right. Yes. The Baileys. Have you explained to them that it’ll be a week or more?”
“I have,” she admitted with a sigh. “And they’re none too happy about the wait. They’ve offered to double the signing fee if you can get them an agent faster.”
John Bailey, Ronan thought, quickly reviewing what he knew of the potential customer. Industrial tycoon, single, Bailey made many trips overseas, running his various businesses and he wanted personal protection. The problem was, they had no one free at the moment.
When Sam Travis certified the new recruits though, Ronan thought the former marine, Cobb, would be the perfect fit for Bailey.
“I’ll take care of it,” Ronan said. “Leave me his file. We’ve a new batch of guards graduating from training within the week, Bailey will either wait for one of them or not, as he chooses.”
“As you wish,” she said and handed over the file. “Unless there’s anything else you need, it’s late so I’ll be leaving now and see you again on Monday morning?”
“Fine, Molly. Thanks.” When she was gone, Ronan tossed the file onto his desk, then swiveled his chair around to stare out at the night over Galway city and the bay beyond. He’d stayed later than usual, and now he saw the sweep of stars across the sky and was forced to admit to a truth. Burying himself in work didn’t help. Pretending that he was in no hurry to return home to Laura didn’t change reality.
Ronan realized that for the first time in memory, he didn’t want to be at work.
&nb
sp; He wanted to be home.
Where Laura waited.
He hungered for her, damn it. He had wanted her to come to Ireland with him as a means of making her desires quicken. Instead, it was he himself doing the suffering. No matter how much he touched her, it wasn’t enough. He craved more until his body felt as tight as a bodhrán drum.
Ronan had wanted her on the razor’s edge, not himself.
When, he asked himself, had she become…vital?
And what was he to do about it?
He didn’t want her to leave, he knew that. Though it had nothing to do with love, as well he knew. It was a problem for sure, but all problems had solutions if you looked hard enough and were willing to work toward compromise. Laura wanted love and marriage. He couldn’t give her that. But surely there was something else he could offer in its stead.
Possibilities raced through his mind.
* * *
At home, he found her in his bedroom, warm and lovely in his bed, and Ronan knew he’d like nothing better than to come home to her every night for the rest of his life. And he would, he vowed. If he played his cards right, if he could convince her to see things his way, they could each have what it was they wanted.
Ronan stripped quietly, quickly, and went to her, sliding beneath the blood-red duvet and gathering her in close.
She sighed and flowed against him, one leg sliding across his, one arm draped over his chest, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Her hair felt like silk and smelled like summer.
“You worked late,” she murmured.
“I did,” he said, kissing her forehead, sliding one hand along her spine. “Had a few things to work out in my mind.”
She tipped her head back to look up at him and a slice of moonlight slanted across her features, shadowing her eyes, making her skin seem to glow. “Did you get everything settled?”
“You know me,” he said softly.
“I do.” A smile curved her mouth and his breath caught. That brilliant smile, freely given and so filled with joy, jolted through him like a hammer against rock. He felt her power over him and told himself that it meant nothing. Only that he’d a fondness for her. And for the magic they made together.
But even he was having a hard time believing that. Determinedly, he closed his mind to the thoughts clamoring for his attention.
“I’ve no wish for talking at the moment,” he said, rolling over until she lay beneath him. He went up on one elbow to look into her eyes and used the tips of his fingers to smooth back a strand of blond hair.
“I don’t really feel like talking, either,” she admitted and lifted one hand to trace the curve of his mouth with her fingers.
“That’s good then,” he whispered and dipped his head for a kiss.
Every time he kissed her it was as if it were the first time. The same sensations crowded inside him. Light and heat and a powerful explosion of electricity that shot through his mind and body and left him breathless. She was a hunger in his blood and Ronan knew she always would be.
He tore his mouth from hers and trailed his lips down the line of her throat and farther, letting the scent of her envelop him. He moved until he found her breasts and the dark pink tips of her nipples. He tasted one, then the other, swirling his tongue over their sensitive points until Laura sighed with pleasure and murmured his name.
Her talented hands moved over his back, tugged at his shoulders and finally cupped his cheek and guided his face back to hers.
“You’re lovely,” he said softly, loving the way moonlight caressed her.
“You’re prejudiced,” she countered.
“No.” He bent to kiss her again, taking his time with it, giving them both the sensations they craved. His chest tight, mind crowded with thoughts and feelings he couldn’t explore, he said only, “I’m not. You’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Ronan—”
He moved over her, pushing his body into hers on one long slide. Instantly, he was lost in the heat of her. He groaned, from deep in his throat and set a rhythm she moved to match. Again and again, he took her, each time, driving them higher, closer to the end that waited for them, and when he heard her cry, felt her body tremble, he at last allowed himself to follow.
His gaze locked with hers as the world shattered around them and Ronan knew that without her, nothing would ever be the same for him.
A few minutes later, with Laura cuddled against him, Ronan decided it was the perfect time to tell her the plan he’d come up with. “You know I told you that I stayed late at work, figuring a few things out?”
“Uh-huh.” She sounded warm and sated and comfortable.
“Well,” he said softly, “I’ve decided what needs to be done.”
“About what?”
“About us.”
That had her attention, he thought as she pushed up from his chest to look at him. Her hair hung in a tangle around her face and shoulders, but her eyes were clear and focused on his.
“Meaning what exactly?”
“Meaning,” Ronan told her with a smile, “I think we should be married.”
“What?” Frowning now, she sat up straight, the duvet pooled in her lap as her hair fell forward to lay across the tops of her breasts.
Idly, he lifted one hand to toy with one of her nipples, but she batted his hand aside. “What are you talking about? Marriage? You said marriage was a trap.”
“It could be, if you went into it all wide-eyed and in love and expecting roses every day,” he said. “But if we went into this as partners—as friends, even—we could each have what it is we want most.”
“Friends.”
“More than,” he assured her, pushing himself up higher and stuffing a pillow behind his back. “It would be the best of all possible worlds, Laura,” he said, slightly surprised that she hadn’t jumped at his proposal. This was what she had wanted, wasn’t it?
Taking her hand in his, he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, unconsciously soothing her. “I never thought to ask a woman to be mine forever. But with you, it’s different.”
“Different.”
He frowned a little. Her lack of enthusiasm worried him, but he was in too deep now to back away, even if he had wanted to. “We’re a good team, Laura. We get along nicely. We’re great in bed together. We could be happy.”
“Happy.”
Scowling now, he blurted, “Are you only going to repeat my words? Have you nothing to say? I’ve never asked anyone to share my life before you.”
“What am I supposed to say, Ronan? Have you figured that out, too?”
“Didn’t think I’d have to,” he admitted, “though if I had, it would have been different than this.”
Actually, he’d seen it all so clearly in his mind. Him making his very logical, clearly thought out proposal. Her, throwing herself into his arms with a happy cry and a resounding Yes, I’ll marry you, Ronan!
Perhaps, he thought, she just couldn’t believe how nicely he’d worked it all out. How he had been able to see that she was right and how good they were together.
“And anywhere in this little scenario of yours,” Laura asked, “did the word love come up at all?”
“No, it didn’t and why would it, I ask you?” Her features froze so he spoke again, quickly. “This is more of a partnership. More in the way of a contract. Isn’t it enough that I desire you? That I admire so much about you? That I bloody like you?”
“No,” she said, dragging the duvet up until she held it like a shield in front of her. “It isn’t. I want more than desire from a husband. I want love.”
“Damn it, Laura, be reasonable.”
“Why should I? I want a family, Ronan. Children.”
“As do I,” he snapped and shoved one hand through his hair, fingers scraping along his skull. “I admit, I hadn’t thought of it until you told me of our lost child, but since then, the loss has haunted me. I keep thinking about that baby and what might have been.”
Her fingers p
lucked at the duvet as she whispered, “So do I.”
Ronan reached for her, taking her hands in his. “We could have children together, Laura. Build a family and neither of us has to risk something so ethereal as love. Marry me, Laura. Live with me here. We’ll bring Beast to Ireland and we can all have what we want.”
She didn’t speak and that gave him hope. She hadn’t said no, so maybe, if he gave her the time she’d need to see that he was right about this, it would all work out in the end.
“Will you think about it, Laura?” His words came softly, but his grip on her hands was tight enough to feel her tremble. “Will you do that at least?”
“I’ll think about it, Ronan, but I won’t make you any promises.”
“That’ll do, for now,” he said and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her as if determined to hold her tightly enough to prevent her escaping him.
* * *
The following day, he took her to Dublin, where they had an elegant dinner at an amazing restaurant. He watched her over the candlelight and when his eyes flared with passion, Laura’s heart trip-hammered in her chest.
His “proposal” continued to run through her mind and Laura was torn in two over it. He’d offered her the chance to stay. To be with him. To have children with him. To make the family she wanted so badly.
All she would have to do is give up on love.
And that she couldn’t do.
She’d settled once before, she reminded herself, with Thomas. And without real love, even their engagement hadn’t lasted. What chance would a marriage have if it didn’t start out the right way? Besides, how could she marry him, loving him as she did, all the while knowing he wouldn’t love her back?
Oh, she hadn’t told him yet, because she didn’t want to waste what little time she had left with him in arguments that wouldn’t change anything. She needed love. He wouldn’t give it. So there was no chance for compromise, no matter what the great and powerful Ronan Connolly might think.
God, she would miss him.
Her memories were piling up inside her, and she knew, that as wonderful as they were, they would choke her with misery once she was home and alone again. Yet she couldn’t begrudge this time with Ronan. Couldn’t help but be glad he had blackmailed her into this trip.
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