Up Close and Personal. Maureen Child
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him back. He’s mine, isn’t he?”
“Well then, go claim your mutt and let me get back to the meeting you’ve pulled me out of.”
Ronan hung up soon after and was still frowning when there was a sharp knock on his door. Pushing thoughts of Laura, Sean and anything else that wasn’t centered on business from his mind, Ronan stood and called, “Come in.”
Brian opened the door, then stepped back to allow a couple to enter the room. “Mr. and Mrs. Benson, Ronan Connolly.”
“Thank you, Brian,” Ronan said, and waved a hand at the chairs in front of his desk. Speaking to the husband and wife, he said, “Please, sit down.”
“Thank you for seeing us,” Maria said, folding her hands over the top of the designer bag she held in her lap.
Ronan nodded and shifted his gaze to her husband. “Happy to. What can Cosain do to help?”
As Jeremy Benson started talking, Ronan lasered his focus on the task at hand. Just as later he would use that same focus on the problem of Laura.
Beast was snoring.
It was a comforting sound, since Laura was pleased at least one of them was getting some sleep.
Outside, the storm was still raging, sending fits of wind-driven rain pelting at her windows. It was a cozy sound, one she normally would have enjoyed. Tonight, it was simply background noise to the thoughts churning in her brain.
She kept hearing Ronan’s voice in her mind, the music of his accent and the way it deepened and thickened when he was angry. She saw his mouth, tight and grim, his eyes flashing and couldn’t help remembering the sizzle in the air between them.
Trying to sleep was pointless, since she couldn’t seem to settle, so instead, she sat propped up in bed, a romance novel open in her hands, lamplight spilling across a page she had already read ten times. It was infuriating to admit that Ronan could so shatter her thoughts she couldn’t even concentrate on reading.
When she heard the front door open and softly close, she assumed it was Georgia coming back early from her date. Not a good sign, Laura thought and wished her sister could find happiness again. She thought about getting up and checking on her sister, but then they would be drawn into conversation about Georgia’s failed date and Laura’s failed romance. No, thank you.
Turning slightly, she reached out one hand to the pillow beside her and remembered Ronan lying there, giving her that slow, sly smile that never failed to turn her insides into swirls of lava. She stroked her fingertips over the cold sheets and pretended that she felt instead a warm, muscled Irishman.
“It was good,” she whispered to the empty room. “For a while anyway, it was very good.”
Her bedroom door opened, and she turned to face her sister.
Ronan’s gaze locked with hers. Then he saw her hand, stretched out across the mattress. “Miss me?”
She jolted up in bed, her book sailing to the floor to land with a thump.
His hair was damp. Raindrops on his black knit sweater glittered like diamonds in the lamplight and his eyes were fixed on her. Her heart rate jumped into high gear even as a burn of something familiar began inside her.
“What the— How did you— Why are you—”
“I’ve still got the key you gave me,” Ronan said, holding it up for her to see before tucking it into the pocket of his faded jeans.
“Well, give it back.”
“I’ll not be doing that,” he said, moving into the room and closing the door behind him.
Laura hitched backward on the bed, plastering herself against the headboard and drawing her pale lemon duvet practically up to her chin. A little late to be protecting herself around Ronan. But knowing her own body’s reactions to him, better safe than sorry.
That deep burning sensation spread like a wildfire, lighting up her bloodstream and sending her hormones into overdrive. What kind of penance was she paying that even furious with him, even knowing she had to let him go from her life, she still wanted him so badly her whole body ached with it?
“What’re you doing here, Ronan?” she demanded, curling her fingers into the silky duvet material as if she were holding on to a lifeline.
“Came to talk, Laura,” he said, strolling closer to the bed. Closer to her.
“There’s nothing to talk about, and by the way, why do you still have my key?” And how had she forgotten to get it back? Well, to be fair, when he gave her the speech on how it wasn’t working out and that they wouldn’t be seeing each other again, she’d felt too bruised to remember to ask for it back.
Which she was kicking herself for now.
He patted the pocket where he’d deposited the key. “You gave it to me.”
“We were together at the time,” she pointed out and winced as her own voice went a little high. Beneath their conversation, Beast’s snoring continued on.
“Could be again,” he said, then glanced down at Beast so he didn’t see Laura’s eyes go wide.
“Easy to see why you want to keep the Beast,” he noted wryly. “A vicious guard dog such as this one would make you feel safe.”
Beast snored even louder.
“He’s company.”
“Aye,” Ronan mused, “quite the conversationalist.” He bent down, rubbed one hand across Beast’s exposed stomach and said, “Wake up, you lazy hound.”
The dog’s eyes reluctantly opened. He saw Ronan and rolled over, pushing himself up high enough to welcome his former owner with a kiss.
Ronan laughed and the sound seemed to rumble through the room before settling in the pit of Laura’s stomach and jittering there. She tried to remind herself that they were exes. Tried to remember how she’d felt the night he left her. Tried to remember the pain she’d suffered later when she lost—
Steeling herself, she said, “Ronan, you don’t belong here. You should leave.”
“But I am here, and I’m not ready to go just yet.”
In the lamplight, his blue eyes shone and she read amusement in their depths, which only served to make her angrier. A good thing.
“Yes, you’re here. Without invitation.”
“And would you have invited me in?”
“No.”
“There you are then.” He shrugged and took a seat at the end of the bed. Beast moved to lay his big head on Ronan’s thigh and both man and dog watched her.
He was far too close.
“So, your guard dog doesn’t seem to mind me being here.”
Feeling oddly compelled to defend the dog, she said, “He knows I’m not in danger from you.”
Ronan tilted his head to one side as his gaze speared into hers. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, were I you.”
Her stomach did a slow swirl and spin. She shoved one hand through her hair, then grabbed up the duvet again and held it even closer. “Ronan, you should go.”
“No. Not until you tell me what it is that’s really at the heart of all of this.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She scooted even farther from him, smacking her back against the headboard.
“Aye, you do, but for some reason, you’re not telling me.” Nodding, he glanced down at the dog, then back to her. “It’s not about Beast at all, is it? There’s something that’s driving you.”
“If there is, it’s none of your business,”