“Definitely. You’ve got a lot of pull with the bars and restaurants around here. Everyone would stock it.”
“See, this is why I chose you. You think like me.” He taps a finger to his temple.
“Criminal minds,” I jest.
Ronan nods in agreement. “Go on. Go start packing. We need to leave by nine tomorrow morning. We have a lunch date with a prospective investor. He’s supposed to be a big dog with private companies looking to grow, and has a whole host of politicians in his pocket. I think he’d be good for the expansion of the Kennedy name.”
“We’ll see what he has to say then.” I stand, ready to run from the room.
“Hey.” Ronan leans back in his chair with heavy eyes. “No kiss for your new fiancé?”
“Of course.” I pause before strutting around his desk. Once in arm’s reach, he pulls me onto his lap, then clutches my face, kissing me roughly, shoving his tongue halfway down my throat while his erection rapidly grows beneath my ass.
“Mmm.” He indulges in me, massaging my breast solely for his pleasure. “Bring something sexy. We’re going to take full advantage of that hotel room.” His brown eyes burn with a defiled kind of lust.
I know exactly what he means when he says, ‘take full advantage of’. I’m certain he has all kinds of foul, filthy, hedonistic ideas rattling around in his head. He likes to fuck, and he takes no prisoners when he does.
* * *
Boston is a beautiful city.There is no arguing that, and with Ronan as my tour guide, I get the best experience around. Our suite at the Four Seasons couldn’t be any more idealistic. Huge rooms, luxurious furnishings, a marble bathroom, and a sweeping view of Boston Public Garden.
I hate to sound shallow, but I like nice shit. And after three weeks in that dumpy trailer, this is a welcome change, despite sharing it with Ronan.
After we freshen up, we head down to the hotel restaurant. In the elevator, Ronan eyes me like he wants to lift my skirt and bend me over right here. “That dress is sexy as fuck.” He slips his arm around my waist and cops a feel of my ass.
“I thought you’d like it.” I play my part, cozying up to him. The pink and navy blue ombre silhouette dress hugs every curve of my body in the most professional way. My copper hair perfectly complementing the colors.
“I’m going to like it more when it’s crumpled in a ball on the floor.” He presses a kiss to the exposed skin on my shoulder.
Can’t wait.
Ronan walks through the lobby of the five-star hotel like he owns the place, a proud man with me on his arm.
In the restaurant, we’re seated in a corner booth tucked away from most of the busy lunch crowd. The ambience reminds me of the many hotel establishments I was toted around to as a child. Unflattering yellow light, smooth wooden tables and chairs, and dark rugs. The décor doesn’t excite me in the least bit, but when you want to do business dealings on this level, these are the types of places you frequent.
I’m sure this lunch is going to be a snooze fest, but Ronan wants me here, so here I shall be.
“He’s late.” I notice the time and my half-empty glass of red wine.
“He’s coming. Order an appetizer for us to pick on.” He fusses with his suit jacket.
“Are you nervous?”
“Me? No.” He scoffs likedon’t be ridiculous, but I know better. Ronan is usually the picture of poise, but I can tell this meeting has him on edge. This guy must be someone seriously connected to have Ronan twitching.
“Who are we meeting anyway?” Up until now, I wasn’t remotely interested. For me, business dealings are a total bore. Unless they include an assault rifle. I plan on just drinking a lot and nodding my head.
“A man named Liam McNamara.” Ronan suddenly stands. Ah, he’s here.” A tall, studious man in a thousand-dollar suit stops at our table.
All the blood immediately drains from my face.
“Excuse my tardiness.” Liam shakes hands with Ronan. His voice causes me to break out in a cold sweat. When he turns to greet me and gets a better look at my face, his expression says it all. Shock, surprise, dismay. I shake my head faintly, hoping Ronan doesn’t notice. Liam gets the message, though, and plays it cool, plastering on a fake smile for Ronan’s sake.
“And who do we have here?” Liam asks as slimy as ever.
“My fiancée, Fallon,” Ronan boasts, introducing us. I stand uneasily.
“Fiancée?” Liam sounds irritatingly surprised. “Lucky man, she’s exquisite,” he compliments me as we shake hands, and a tsunami of horrific past traumas nearly knock me off my feet.
