THIRTY THREE

Justine

I spot Ronan's town car as soon as I step out of the frigid air-conditioned office, into the warm evening sunshine. The sight of the sleek black Lexus makes me feel extra warm as if someone turned up the dial on my after-work defrost.

It's my fault. I haven't tried very hard to fit in at Heartstone Bride. I just can't seem to muster the energy.

I should be excited. It's not that I don't appreciate the chance to work at Heartstone's top bridal magazines. If I have to work anywhere other than on Married for a Day, this would be right up there as a contender. Only my heart's not in it.

Everyone is very nice. Very helpful. Richard spent twenty-five minutes helping me un-jam the photocopier on my second day without complaint, and I was even invited to join in on birthday celebrations for Jan, the pretty editor who is one of the kindest people I've ever met.

I just can't help wishing I could still work for Ronan. More so now I've seen what he's like when he lets down his guard a little. I know it's sad and pathetic, believe me. Courtney berates me almost every day for not standing up for myself more. It doesn't change the way I feel. There's more to Ronan than he lets most people see. A soft, vulnerable underside.

I hope his new assistants are taking good care of him.

So when I spot his car, I have to look away to wipe the silly grin off my face before he sees through the tinted windows. It's so tempting to imagine he's here for me.

Then I remember his message from this morning that I forced myself to delete without reading. Could it be?

Almost immediately, I regretted deleting it. Courtney was standing right there beside me at the kitchen counter and she told me to have some more self-respect.

It doesn't matter that things ended uncomfortably. That I had to leave my job and that I'm still hurting. I'd still like to see him again.

But he's not here for me. He's here to meet with some boss way higher up the chain. One unread message is not enough to make Ronan Kernos drive all the way over here to find me, his ex-junior assistant.

I'm just turning to walk toward the subway, when the low rumble of his voice stops me. "Where are you going, Traffic Lights?"

Ohmigod, he is here for me!

I spin so fast I'm dizzy as I stare through the open window right into his handsome, horned face. The car is crawling along right beside me.

I think I forgot how gorgeous he is after being away from him for a few weeks. It hits me again and I'm reeling. "I'm going home?" comes out as little more than a squeak.

Harvey stops inching the town car forward and Ronan opens the door. "Get in. I'll take you."

There are so many reasons why I should ignore him and keep walking.

Unfortunately, none of them can contend with the little flutter in my heart as he slides over and pats the seat next to him or the answering flutter in my pussy when I start to imagine what he's here for.

I hesitate for a moment longer.

"Please?" When he gives me a pleading look, all my resolve melts away. How am I supposed to resist him when he's like this?

Getting in beside him, I'm instantly caught in his spell again, hardly able to look him in the eye with the intensity of the attraction I feel.

I press my hands to my hot cheeks. "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm stalking you like a shameless creep because you won't return my messages."

My tongue gets tied in knots for a moment. "Oh!"

Harvey pulls away from the curb and Ronan reaches over me to grab the belt and clip it into place. My heart does a somersault as he leans close, totally ignoring all my good resolutions to get over him.

"Do you know how crazy it made me, not hearing back?"

Now I stare, but there's no hint of humor in his black expression. "I-I"m sorry."

Ronan sighs. "No. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I watched your exit interview."

He says this heavily, like I should know what it means. "You did?"

He turns toward me, taking my hands in his, searching my face. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean to ruin it for you. I didn't think. But watching you... I can't leave things like that. I owe you better. Will you let me make it up to you?"

"How?"

"Starting with a private flight to Paris, culminating in an obscenely romantic weekend away and plenty of expensive gifts. As long as that's OK with you."

My mouth drops open and I can't think of a single thing to say for almost a whole minute. Ronan watches me intently the whole time.

Eventually, I stammer, "You don't have to do all that!" I should say no, shouldn't I? I'm sure there's a reason I can't quite think of right now.

He frowns. "Actually, I do. And if you won't let me do it today I'll have to come up with something even more extreme. So please take pity on me. I'm not sure I'm up to the task."

I giggle. The thought of Ronan wracking his brain to come up with a grander gesture is amusing. I'm pretty stunned to be honest. It's so thoughtful in so many ways. I've always dreamed about a trip to Paris or being swept off my feet in a grand romantic gesture. But...

"So will you come with me?"

"I'm not sure I should." It's risky. The very reason I wrote no on my card at the ceremony and didn't try to contact him for weeks is because I was already at risk of falling far too hard. Now this?

My heart will stand no chance.

The problem is it doesn't matter what I say, the damage is done. I've spent the last few weeks missing him terribly, even when I tell myself I didn't. If I say no, I'm going to spend the rest of my life wondering what it would have been like. Wishing I'd been braver. Or dumber.

A hesitant smile creeps onto my lips.

"Please, Justine. You deserve to be spoiled. Let me spoil you."

Why not? It might cost me months of mending a broken heart, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. "Yes. OK."

His expression relaxes into the first genuine smile I've seen since he picked me up.

I'm desperate to ask him if this means he missed me, too. If he thought about me.

Then I remember. "Oh, but my passport!"

"On file at Bullseye. It doesn't expire for another year. We can drop by your place and pick it up along with anything else you need. My jet is already waiting for us at the airport, though, so don't be long."

The rest of the drive to the airport passes in a blur. I try to squash down my nerves and my emotions, but it's impossible to resist them all. Most of all, I want to ask what we're doing here. Why make a romantic gesture if he doesn't care about me at least a little?

But I'm too scared to spoil things when we might only have a single weekend left. I want to take every opportunity to enjoy this in case it's the last chance I get to spend time with him. So I don't ask. I just let myself be carried away with it.

Ronan's private jet is as luxurious as I could have imagined. At the front are four huge leather reclining seats where the hostess ushers us to sit for takeoff. We're served French champagne and tiny delicate snacks.

After takeoff, the hostess advises us we can remove our seatbelts and move around the aircraft. "Do you require anything else for the moment, Mr. Kernos?"

Ronan shakes his head. "No. Thank you, Aisling. Not for now."

"Thank you, sir." She retreats into the forward cabin, closing the door softly behind her and leaving us in privacy. I stand and stare around at the huge interior. Behind the seats is a large leather sofa opposite a TV stand with an enormous flat screen and a high tech-looking sound system. Beyond that is a table. A vase of fresh flowers is arranged in the center. I wonder about whether it would tip over during takeoff and landing, but as we move a little closer, I see that it's fixed to the table. Beside the table are several books and newspapers in a little shelf. It doesn't surprise me at all to find print books and papers in Ronan's plane. I bet he has an actual library in his apartment, too. I never got the chance to look.

Then something catches my eye. One of the books looks startlingly familiar. I step closer, squinting at the title. It is!

A Duke's Kiss Goodnight. The latest release by Carlita Lovewell. Then I spot another and another, and I realize most of the shelf is taken up with romance novels by some of my favorite authors!

I turn to find him watching me, the hint of a smile on his long face.

"Did you do this?"

He scratches the base of one horn. "Well, technically, my staff did..."

I don't wait for him to finish the sentence. I launch myself at him and wrap my arms—with difficulty—as far around him as I can. He returns the hug with a surprised laugh.

"Thank you! You're right. This is already the most romantic trip I've ever been on and it's only just started." I pull away and hurry over to the shelf to choose a book.

When I look back, he's watching me from the sofa with an unreadable expression on his face. I can't choose, so I take three books over with me and sit beside him. He's still watching me. I look down at the books in my lap, then guiltily back at him. "It's rude if I read now, isn't it?"

Ronan chuckles. "I'd be offended if you didn't after I went to the trouble of hounding the bookstore owner for at least half an hour for all her recommendations. I won't mind as long as you're not offended by me watching sports."

I tuck myself against his side with a sigh, amazed when he makes no complaint. Such a big difference between this Ronan and the grumpy workaholic from the office. Or even the wounded, vulnerable guy beneath the veneer of control.

A few hours later and I'm getting to a really good bit. The Duke of Haverstone has been caught alone with a debutante maiden and offered to marry her to save her reputation. Little does he know she is secretly sneaking out at night to steal from the extremely wealthy of London and give to the poor. The Duke finds his fiancee out alone at night dressed in breeches and corners her in a dark alley. "Would you like to know what happens to naughty girls who sneak out at night, Jane?"

I shiver with delight as he slides his hand from her throat down to cup her ass in the tight fitting men's pants.

Then I gasp. Ronan has scooped me up, standing from the sofa with me in his arms as if I weigh nothing. "Alright. Time to get you to bed so you can have a few hours sleep before we land," he announces.

I pout for a moment, still caught in my story. "Things were just getting good."

He chuckles. "Oh, I know, needy girl. I can smell you. If I let you get all riled up I know you'll never sleep, and I have big plans for us tomorrow."

I grin. He strides to the bed and lays me down. Instead of getting in beside me or even stripping off, he takes my book and sets it aside. Then he pulls the light blanket up over me. "Get some rest. It will be morning when we land in Paris and I promise to spoil you rotten."

I try to protest, but it falls on deaf ears. Truthfully, I can't smother my yawns. It's been a long week. Despite myself, I find my eyes drifting closed and sleep wins the battle of wills.