Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Don’t take it the wrong way. But you said a scene went bad. You still go to the club, but you don’t participate. Something’s eating at you. Perhaps a change of scenery will help.”
It’s odd how strong the desire is to go with him. To run away to New Orleans with Ronan O’Connor.
New Orleans with a Scotsman.
Such a contradiction.
Though half of him comes from the South.
He’s a half Creole baby.
I might be sacrificing my job if I take off. “All right. I’ll call my boss in the morning.”
“What if she says no?”
“Then I can’t go with you, Ronan.”
“What if I never make the offer again?”
My heart plummets to my stomach. Why is he affecting me so deeply? A spark of anger crawls at the back of my neck. “You’re a businessman. A millionaire. You can do whatever you want. I’m a simple working girl, Ronan. My job means a lot to me. I like it, and I’m good at it.”
He nods. “I understand.”
“Thank you.” I blow out a breath. His words are a relief.
But as he swirls his fries in mayo, which suddenly has become endearing to me, I realize that what I want to do—more than anything in the world—is go to New Orleans with him. Because there, I know I will learn all I need to know about Ronan O’Connor.
“Okay, you’ve talked me into it.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You’re going to New Orleans?”
“Not quite.” I pick up my last fry, reach across the table, and swirl it in the pool of mayo on his plate. “But I’ll try your fries and mayo.” I bring the fry to my mouth.
It’s exactly as I thought it would be.
Disgusting.
I force myself to swallow.
“Well?” Ronan’s eyebrows are still raised.
“Never again. It was like eating a fry dipped in lotion.”
He laughs then. A big raucous laugh. The first time I’ve heard him really laugh.
He normally looks so serious. As if he’s a Dominant every minute, in all aspects of his life.
But I broke through.
I know then.
I will do whatever it takes.
Though it goes against every aspect of what I understand about myself, I’m going to New Orleans with him tomorrow. I’ll convince my boss to give me the last-minute time off.
Nothing has felt quite right in my life since the botched scene with Jack.
This?
This feels right.
“Will you let me see you home?” he asks.
Why the hell not? I’ve already decided I’m going to New Orleans with him.
“Sure,” I tell him.
He gestures to June for the check.
After our check is paid, Ronan rises and helps me from my chair. Most Dominants are polite like that. They treat women with the utmost respect.
Ronan is no different.
We leave the bar, and he hails a cab. Once we’re inside, I give the cabbie my address.
We don’t talk much during the ride, and he doesn’t take my hand. In fact, our bodies aren’t touching at all, but I’m hyper aware of him, so very conscious of the effect he has on me. My heart is thumping, and my flesh is warm.
“I’m not too familiar with the city yet,” Ronan says when the cabbie drops us off in front of my apartment building.
“I’m lucky to have this place,” I say as we walk in and I wave to the doorman. “When my father passed away, we found out he had this apartment as well as his residence. It’s rent-controlled. I wouldn’t be able to afford it otherwise.”
That’s not the whole story, of course. My father actually had my current apartment long before my parents’ divorce, only we didn’t know about it. He carried on with other women and men here, which led to the divorce. I didn’t know about any of that then—my mother only enlightened me after his death. Since his death was also the death of my college career, because he was the one paying my tuition, I had to get over the thoughts of what went on at this place, move in, and find a job.
Now that I’ve made the place mine, it’s cozy and functional.
“I don’t understand the whole rent-control thing,” Ronan says.
“It’s kind of a mess. I can explain it to you if you’re that interested.”
“I am interested, but that will give us something to talk about on the plane tomorrow.”
“I haven’t said I’m going yet.”
He pauses. “Forgive me for being so presumptuous.”
We take the elevator up to my apartment. It’s a studio, and my bed isn’t made. It’s in sight as soon as we walk in.
Which makes my nerves skitter.
Part of me truly wants to go to bed with Ronan, but he won’t just take me to bed. That’s too vanilla. He’s only interested in a scene, and I don’t play at my apartment.
My bed sits against one wall, adorned with a patchwork quilt and throw pillows, none of which are in the proper place, since it’s unmade. A nightstand with a small lamp sits beside the bed.