“No,” he grinds out.
My mouth forms a surprised O.
“Do you want an out? So you can have someone else take you? Did Conner ask?”
He is seriously not happy. Is this a case where he doesn’t want me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have me either? Because if so, that’s bull.Men.
“I’m not going with anyone else. And I don’t want an out,” I say heatedly. “I wasn’t with Conner on a date. I was with him because he’s a real estate agent, and he represents a property on Main Street that I might want to buy for an art studio.” I shake my head. “I don’t know if I can, and I’m not sure if it’s a great idea, but I wanted to look at it.”
All the fight goes out of him. He smiles. One of his rare ones, the kind that touches his eyes and gives him a sexy slash of a dimple that slices his left cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s amazing,” Ronan says. “You need to do it.”
“Maybe.” Our eyes connect.
“Did you take it?” he prompts.
“I’m still thinking about it.”
“You shou—”
“I never wanted an out,” I interrupt him. I want to talk about my studio with him, but not right now. Right now, I need to make this clear. “And certainly not because of another guy.”
“Good.” He stares at me with an intensity I can’t read.
“I just wasn’t sure you’d want to go with me,” I admit. “At least, not without Belle.” I look down at my hands.
“Poppy, hell. It’s not that. It’s never been that. I’ve always wanted… I’m just trying to do the right thing. But every time I look at you…” He stops. He doesn’t sound like himself. He’s usually so definitive. So completely and exactly sure of himself. But now, he seems the opposite of certain.
He runs a hand through his hair, then runs a hand over his artfully stubbled jaw. His look inThe Wanderersconsists of the perfect amount of wheat-gold stubble, just enough to emphasize the masculine beauty of his face and make him look like he’s been carved in the form of a golden god.
“It’s a little over a week to Christmas,” he says.
“I know.”
“Belle and I are supposed to fly back before Christmas,” he says. “We leave.”
“I know,” I rasp.
“And you go back to your life.”
“I know.” My voice is as raw as my heart.
“You’re Belle’s nanny. I can’t—”
“I kissedyoufirst,” I say. “I’m the one who crossed that initial line. Not you.”
His lip curls up in an expression that’s as rueful as it is seductive. “Do you think that makes a damn bit of difference? You didn’t do anything that I wasn’t dying to do to you a thousand times over.”
I make a quick, shocked sound. “Did you? Think about it. Before, I mean.”
“Only every day. And every night. And all the moments in between since you’ve come to live with us, since you burst into the elevator in that ridiculous dress with your ridiculous purse and enchanted Belle. And enchanted me.” His voice is sandpaper rough.
“But I didn’t. I didn’t do anything special.”
“You were yourself, Poppy. That’s all you ever have to do to enthrall me. To make me want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”
* * *
Ronan
