“No.” I frowned. “Why? Is that what people think?”
He shrugged. “I think we think you don’t know what island life is like. It’ll be hard for someone who has had every convenience at her fingertips.”
Irritation heated my skin. “Yougot used to it. You’re not an islander by birth.”
“No. But I was in the military. I know life without convenience.”
Anger overtook my irritation. So that was his problem, huh? He thought he had me pegged. Just like everyone else.
Spoiled little rich girl playing dress-up with a building on Glenvulin. That I’d get bored and go running back to my life as it was before.
Well, news flash.
That life no longer fucking existed.
“If I can get up every day and move through a world in which my parents are dead, I can go without having designer stores and fancy restaurants at my fingertips.” I shoved a forkful of pasta in my mouth before I told him to go fuck himself.
Tense silence thrummed between us.
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” Ramsay finally offered.
“No?” I cocked my head, smirking unhappily at him. “Or was it more that you didn’t think I would recognize the insult?”
Something gleamed in his eyes. “Fair enough.” He studied me for a second too long, making it difficult for me to catch my breath. What was it about this man? Even annoyed at him, I was hot and bothered. “Did you finish your book?”
Taken aback by the question, it took me a second to respond. “Almost.”
“Did … she enjoy all of her neighbors?”
At the seriousness with which he asked, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Ramsay flashed me a quick grin and there went my breath catching again.
I wanted to see him smile like that without the bushy beard.
It crinkled the corners of his eyes in the sexiest way.
“Yes,” I answered primly, lips straining against amusement. “She thoroughly enjoyed all three neighbors, and they thoroughly enjoyed her in return. They are currently being typical dickheads at this point in the book, but I expect copious amounts of groveling in the next few chapters.”
“Groveling?” He frowned incredulously.
“Oh yeah, it’s hot. I love a good grovel.” At his bemusement, I grinned and gestured to his books behind me. “You have quite the library. Though I’m guessing there are noWhy Choose Romancenovels on those shelves.”
“No, there aren’t.” He shook his head, staring past me to the books. “I inherited them.”
“Have you read them all?”
“Not all. But I’ve made a dent.”
“How old are you?” The question was out before I could stop it. I flushed.
Ramsay quirked an eyebrow. “How old do you think I am?”
Hearing the teasing in his tone, I relaxed ever so slightly. “Midthirties?”
“Forty.”
That surprised me. I knew he was older than me, but I didn’t know he was thirteenyearsolder.
