I whip around.
Ronan’s standing in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the warm light from inside. His hands are in his suit pockets, his expression unreadable. His emerald gaze twinkling even in the night.
I fold my arms and glare at him as he approaches. “I needed some fresh air. Is that against the rules too? Will I be punished again?”
A slow grin spreads across his face. A low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he joins me at the railing, standing close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with the spice of whiskey.
“No, princess,” he says simply. “You’re allowed fresh air. The question is, why would you need it? You upset about something?”
I scoff, turning away from him to look out over the city. The lights glimmer below us, cars moving at a sluggish pace through the streets.
“You would probably love to hear me beg you for information about the other women you’re with. But I won’t be doing that. If you want to fuck other women?—”
“What other women?” Ronan interrupts.
I glance at him, my jaw tight. “You know exactly what other women.”
He laughs, producing the thick and broguish sound that feels like a taunt in and of itself.
“Byrdie?” he asks. “That’s what this is about?”
My frustration boils over. I’ve had enough.
I move to walk off, desperate to get away from him and this conversation that’s making me feel things I don’t want to feel.
But he grabs my arm, holding me back. I’m forced to meet his gaze as he looks me in the eye, and any trace of amusement is suddenly gone from his face.
“No, princess,” he says, voice suddenly huskier. “If the question is whether I’m fucking Byrdie, the answer is no. Hell no, in fact. That’s been done with for a long time now.”
I stare at him, searching his face for any sign he’s lying. But his piercing green eyes only reflect honesty.
He’s serious. He’s telling the truth.
“Your pussy is the only one I’ve been in since I put that ring on your finger,” he goes on, stepping closer ’til our bodies brush. ’Til his husky voice sends a vibration down my spine and his gaze drops to my lips as if he’s about to kiss me. “And you know what? It’s probably going to stay that way. You could even say I’m a little obsessed.”
Heat flames my cheeks. Arousal burns inside me, immediate and undeniable. My breath catches, yet I find I can’t look away. His grip on my arm tightens, his thumb brushing against my skin in a way that feels both possessive and intimate.
There’s some kind of chemical component in the air that’s circling us. It’s intense and visceral and blazes hot like fire. His deep green eyes bore into mine, our faces inches apart, our hearts practically beating in sync, and it’s as if only for a moment, the rest of the world disappears.
It’s just him and me and this unbearable tension that’s been building since the day we met. Tension that’s not going away anytime soon.
That’s begging for release like on our wedding night. The other night where he punished me.
It’s only going to grow ’til we both recognize the truth we’ve tried our damnedest to avoid. We’re both drawn to?—
Suddenly, applause erupts from inside the banquet room. The moment between us flips, and we’re sent back to reality by the thunderous applause.
Ronan releases my arm and takes a step back. “We should head back inside.”
I nod, not trusting myself to do anything else.
We walk through the glass doors together, side by side, but the heat between us lingers like a brand on my skin.
Right where Ronan was touching me seconds before.
I lay awake in bed as early morning sunlight slips through the curtains. My mind is too restless, so full of contradictions it’s enough to drive me crazy.
Ronan’s asleep next to me, his breathing deep and steady. I turn my head on the pillow to study him, something I’d never do if he were awake.