He frowns. “Where are you going?”
His gaze trails over my outfit with such intensity that my cheeks heat. It’s a slightly warm day, so I chose a white tennis skirt and a cropped pink sweater and pink Converse, but the way Ronan is looking at me makes me forget that I’m wearing clothes at all.
I shrug. “Out.”
Ronan folds his arms, and the muscles in his forearms flex.
“Where?”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
One moment, he’s ordering me to go out and get a facial or whatnot, and the next, he’s acting like I’m committing a prison break. I swear, I can’t keep up with his moods.
“I’m having coffee with Mila in the city.” I type in the address of the coffee shop on my app.
“And what, were you planning on walking there?”
I glance up and scowl at Ronan. “Actually, I was planning on partaking in a little grand theft auto.”
Surprisingly, the corner of his lips twitch, and heat pools in my lower belly.
Sometimes, he acts like such a robot that I forget he’s capable of human expressions likesmiling.
“I’m going to take an Uber.” I wave my phone at him, but from the way Ronan’s jaw tightens, that’s apparently the wrong answer.
“Come with me.” He tilts his head in the direction of the kitchen.
“I’d rather not.”
“It isn’t optional.”
I let out a huff, but my curiosity gets the better of me, so I follow behind him as he leads me into the kitchen and to a coded door tucked away beside the pantry.
“This better not be your sex dungeon.”
He chuckles under his breath, and my own lips twitch as he punches in the code.
“That’s upstairs,” he says over his shoulder at me.
His dark eyes are molten as he looks at me, and I instantly regret not keeping my mouth shut because suddenly, all I can picture is Ronan tying me to a bed and fucking me like he owns me.
I choke on my breath at the image, which brings another deep chuckle from him.
He gives me a knowing look, as if he can read my thoughts, before pushing the door open with his shoulder.
“What’s in here, then?” My throat is suddenly painfully dry.
“The garage.” He holds the door open for me.
My eyes almost bug out of their sockets as I move past him, careful not to brush against his chest, and stare at the array of vehicles lined up inside, each one likely costing well over six figures.
Even at our peak wealth, my family never owned anything close to this. There’s everything from blacked-out SUVs to sports cars that look like they should be in a Bond movie.
“It’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?” I walk over to a particularly impressive steel-gray Aston Martin.
I hate that I’m impressed, but I’ve always been a sucker for shiny things.
Ronan rolls his eyes before walking to a lockbox containing all of the keys.
