Up Close and Personal (8 page)

They’d just see about that.

“Gets busy early around here.” He took her arm and pulled her to one side as a skateboarder hurtled past them, earphones in his ears, head rocking to music only he could hear.

“Just like anywhere else,” Laura said. “Businesses are open and hopefully people come out to buy.”

Traffic jostled for space on this narrow section of Pacific Coast Highway. Pedestrians darted through the stopped cars, unwilling to walk to the crosswalk or wait for a green light. Sunlight poured down on the entire scene from a bright blue sky and from somewhere up ahead, the scent of fresh baked goods wafted to them on the sea wind.

Laura took a deep breath and sighed. “Tuesdays at Carmen’s can’t be beat.” Then she looked up at him. “Come on then, we’ll snag a table and talk—about business.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said and smiled to himself when she turned to walk on.

Surfers, children and an elderly couple were waiting patiently in line. Ronan insisted on placing the order and sent Laura off to find them a table in the already crowded bakery.

She was waiting for him at a corner spot by the front window. The tables were small and round and the tiny chairs were not built for a man of Ronan’s size. But he made do, being sure to bump his knees against Laura’s as he took his seat.

“Your friend does good business here.”

Laura took the plastic lid off her latte and blew gently across the surface before taking a sip. “She makes superior cinnamon rolls. Among other things.”

He took a bite and had to agree as sugar and spice dissolved into heaven on his tongue. Ronan hadn’t even realized he was hungry, but now he practically inhaled the pastry and gave Laura a sheepish grin when she asked, “Hungry, are we?”

“I’m a man of many appetites,” he told her and had the pleasure of watching her flush.

“Okay,” she said flatly. “First rule. No flirting.”

“I don’t flirt.”

“Oh, please. You’re an expert,” she countered, taking another sip of her latte. “And with that accent of yours, it’s a double threat.”

“The accent can’t be helped, though I’ll try to tone down my charm if I’m so irresistible to you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She didn’t have to, his skin was all but buzzing still from what they’d shared the night before. He knew her body. Knew her mind. And knew she was trying to cover her physical reactions to him.

“Ah, that’s lovely. We’ve no problems then, have we?” Point scored, he lifted his coffee cup and eased carefully against the back of the seat, half expecting it to break off and send him to the tile floor in a sprawl.

“No problem at all.” Reaching for her purse, Laura pulled out a small tablet and a pen, then looked at him. “So, what kind of house do you have in mind?”

He shrugged and took a sip of his latte. “I’ll know it when I see it.”

“That’s not much help in the looking department.” She tapped her pen against her pad in a show of nerves. How like Laura, the old-fashioned girl, to prefer paper and pen to a computer tablet. He found it almost endearing.

Then, as that thought settled in, he scowled a little and reminded himself just who was in charge of this game between them.

“Well,” he said, “we’ve known each other some time, so what kind of house do you see me in?”

Laura tipped her head to one side, studied him thoughtfully for a moment and started with “Big, for one.”

He laughed and shifted unsteadily on the tiny café chair. “Aye, that’s a good start.”

“Near or on the water,” she continued.

“I do love the sea. Comes from growing up so near to it, I suppose.”

It was something they’d had in common when first they’d met, he thought. Her, born and raised in a California beach town and he on the other side of the world, had found common ground in their love of the ocean. The Pacific was too mild and tame for Ronan’s taste though. He preferred the Atlantic where the waves raged and thundered against Ireland’s shores.

And then there was Lough Mask, he thought, near his home, as wide and beautiful as the sea, but with a calmness that soothed. A pang of something echoed inside him and Ronan realized he was homesick. He’d been gone from Ireland for nearly six months and his soul yearned for it.

She nodded, made another note on her pad and said, “You love books, so a library would be good. And either a separate office or a library big enough to serve as both.”

Ronan smiled. She did know him well. And what did that mean? He’d never spent enough time with any one woman for her to know him as well as Laura apparently did. Ronan scowled to himself as one simple fact reached up and grabbed him at the base of his throat.

He was in deeper with Laura than he had thought.

Yet he couldn’t make himself back away. He wanted her. His body ached for her right now, so letting her go was out of the question.

“You can’t cook,” she said, interrupting his train of thought, “so I’m guessing a kitchen a housekeeper or chef would love…”

He had to laugh. “I only burned the soup that once,” he insisted. “And you were distracting me at the time.”

He could still see her in memory, perched naked on the granite counter at the Laguna house, smiling at him. Welcoming him as he forgot all about the soup on the stove and gathered her close. Their lovemaking had been fast and hard and completely satisfying—until they had heard the hiss of the soup boiling over.

“It was canned soup, Ronan,” she said, “and you managed to ruin it.”

“As I recall, ’twas worth it,” he mused and enjoyed seeing the flash of memory dart across her eyes leaving behind a smudge of desire.

“Yeah, well,” Laura said, dropping her gaze to the pad in front of her. “Moving on. You like a lot of privacy, too, so you won’t want a close neighbor.”

“True enough.” He shuddered at the thought. His home in Ireland was a manor house with its own damn park surrounding it. His closest neighbor, Maeve Carroll, lived in a cottage almost half a mile from him and the village was beyond that. “Don’t know how you accept people being able to peer over fences at you. See into your tiny yards, into your lives whenever they’re of a mind.”

“It’s called being neighborly.”

“Or annoying.”

“You know,” she said, shaking her head, “just because you
can
spy on your neighbor doesn’t mean you
do
it.”

He shook his head. “You mean I’m to trust my fellow man? I don’t think so.”

“Trust runs both ways, Ronan,” she said, then cleared her throat and continued before he could comment. “Several bedrooms, I think, in case you have…guests.” She bent her head to make a note and Ronan fisted his hands to keep from reaching out to touch the sunlit fall of her hair.

Grumbling under his breath at his own ragged control, he tried to get back on topic. “That’s a good point. I’ll have people coming in from Cosain, Galway from time to time…”

“So,” she interrupted, “basically, you want a mansion all by itself on the ocean with plenty of room for books and guests.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She frowned. “And not easy to find.”

“Then we’d best get looking, hadn’t we?” He stood up and instinctively held her chair for her to rise and stand beside him. When she had, he touched her face and with his fingertips, turned it up to him.

“Trust is something that comes hard to me,” he said quietly.

“I know.” She moved her head enough to have his fingers slide from her skin.

“Aye, I suppose so as you
do
know a bit about me, Laura,” he said, keeping his voice low, for her ears only. “But there’s more yet to learn.”

Around them, Carmen’s bakery was a hive of conversation, laughter and the bright buzz of people enjoying their morning. But here, in this corner, there was just the two of them.

Ronan looked into clear blue eyes, and saw only wariness looking back at him. A part of him regretted that. A larger part wondered how long it would take him to turn that suspicion into passion again.

Seven

F
or two weeks, they spent every day together. And every day, Ronan chipped away at Laura’s resolve.

It wasn’t outright. Nothing she could call him on, nothing that would allow her to warn him to back off. No, he was sneakier than that.

He held her chair for her at lunch and would let his fingertips trail across her shoulders as she seated herself. He put his hand at the small of her back when they climbed stairs to some of the cliff-side homes she showed him. She felt his touch all the way to her bones and she
knew
he was well aware of what he was doing.

When she spoke, he gave her his full attention, his gaze locked with hers as if she were the most important being on earth. The heat in his gaze was unmistakable and impossible to ignore. He knew that, too. She was sure of it.

And for two weeks, he found something wrong with every property she showed him. Too small. Too big. Too high on the cliff, too low on the hillside. Not near enough to the ocean, too close to the crash of waves. He was perfectly reasonable about it, but the upshot was the same. He was dragging out their time together and Laura was on the ragged edge of her control.

It was all well and good to make a vow of chastity where Ronan was concerned—but keeping that vow was turning out to be even more difficult than she had thought it would be.

Especially, she thought, when he spent more time at her house than he did at his. Even now, he was sprawled companionably on the couch beside her, long legs stretched out, feet crossed at the ankles. When he stirred, it was to grab another slice of pizza from the open box on the coffee table in front of them.

He broke off a piece of crust before tossing it to Beast. Then, taking a sip of his beer, he looked at her and winked. “You’re watching me in the way a woman does when she’s thinking something.”

“I’m thinking you look awfully comfortable.”

“And why shouldn’t I? It’s a lovely house, there’s a fire in the hearth, a lovely woman at my side and a dog at me feet.”

“Thank you very much,” Georgia said from the chair.

“I beg your pardon,” Ronan corrected himself with a blinding grin. “
Two
lovely women.”

“Much better.” Georgia lifted her wineglass in a silent toast.

“You’re no help,” Laura told her sister.

“Was I supposed to help?” Georgia hid her grin behind her wineglass as she took another sip.

“So, you don’t want me to be comfortable?” Ronan asked.

“I just don’t understand why you have to be comfortable
here
.”

“Because, love, you have yet to find me a suitable house to buy.”

“You could go to the one you
rent
.”

“Did you hear that, Georgia?” Ronan shook his head sadly and lowered his voice dramatically. “She wants me away to sit by myself in that empty house rather than be here with
friends
.” As he said that last word, he turned his gaze on Laura meaningfully.

She knew what he was doing, but damned if she could find a way to stop him. If she tried to bar him from the house, Georgia would only let him in anyway.

“Beast is getting fat,” Ronan mused as he picked up the wine bottle and refilled Laura’s and Georgia’s glasses.

“Then stop sneaking him pizza,” Laura told him.

“Ah,” Ronan countered. “But he
wants
it so.”

“Sometimes what we want isn’t good for us,” she argued.

“And sometimes the wanting is all we have, and we should enjoy it for what it is.”

“And sometimes,” Georgia said, “other people in the room get tired of hearing people speak in code.”

Laura grumbled, but otherwise kept quiet as Georgia flicked on the TV and a cable news program came on. Georgia was a news addict, and Laura couldn’t understand it. From what she could tell, it was mostly bad news anyway.

“Where is this house you want to show me tomorrow?” Ronan asked and Laura turned her head to look at him.

Lamplight glowed softly behind him. To one side was the fireplace, flames snapping and hissing as they devoured the wood. Laura held out one of the two property sheets she held in her hand toward Ronan and waited for him to take it.

“There are two, actually,” she said, pleased to be back on solid ground, even though she knew darn well that he would dismiss whatever palatial estate she showed him. Even the lovely one that he barely glanced at before handing back to her. “That one is in Dana Point, farther south along the coast. The house was built only three years ago. It’s a Cape Cod style, but—”

“It won’t do.” Ronan eased closer to her on the couch.

“You didn’t even look at the picture, Ronan,” she said. “You could at least wait to see the house before saying no.”

“There’d be no point. I’ve no interest in a Cape Cod style. Lovely as they are, they don’t speak to me.”

“Well, what
does
speak to you, for heaven’s sake?”

“You do,” he murmured.

Something inside her fluttered excitedly into life. Laura squashed that little bud of hope like a bug. Flirting came so easily to him, it was second nature. Desire was just as easy and meant as little. Without real feelings behind the passion, what was the point?

She’d learned that lesson and didn’t intend to forget it. “Don’t go there.”

“Why the bloody hell not?” he whispered, lowering his voice so that Georgia wouldn’t hear, as focused as she was on the television across the room. “We’re good together.”

“In bed,” she qualified.

“Exactly,” he agreed cheerfully.

Why was he working so hard to get her back into bed? There were women all over the world who would fall across his sheets with a whoop of glee if he so much as glanced at them. That thought burned a little.

“You’re making this seem more difficult than it is,” he said.

“No,” she qualified, dismissing the mental image of women lining up for a crack at the gorgeous Irishman. Because really, she couldn’t do anything about that. Once he realized that they really were over, he’d move on and find someone more willing than she. And Laura wouldn’t have a thing to say about it.

“I’m not the one being difficult. You are. I’ve already told you—”

He cut her off neatly. “Why don’t we talk about this alone?” He nodded toward Georgia. “We could go outside, take a walk.”

Oh, sure, alone with him in the dark. That would be a good call.

“It’s cold outside,” Laura pointed out, settling more deeply into the sofa cushions.

“I can keep you warm,” he offered, then grinned. “Not in a romantic way, mind you. Just in the way of being friendly…”

“Uh-huh. No. Thanks.” She nodded to where her sister sat engrossed in the evening news. “I don’t want to abandon Georgia.”

“Or is it more that you don’t trust yourself alone with me?”

She laughed, though that little lie was harder to pull off than she might have imagined. Heck, yes, she didn’t trust herself. Ronan was hard to ignore when he
wasn’t
trying. When he was actually working at seducing a woman, he was damn near irresistible.

Still, he didn’t need to know that. “Oh, I think I can keep from flinging myself into your manly arms.”

“Don’t bother on my account.”

“Ronan, we had a deal,” she reminded him. “No flirting.”

“This isn’t flirting, this is just chatting.”

“Then no chatting, either.”

“You’re a hard woman.”

“You betcha,” she said and felt about as hard as a marshmallow. Yeah, she was tough. That’s why she took cold showers every night and then fell into a dream-filled sleep. Dreams in which she wasn’t nearly so disciplined, instead giving in to exactly what she wanted. And every morning, she woke up exhausted, her body strung with tension only to face a day spent saying no to Ronan.

If she ever did manage to sell him a house, she would have seriously earned that commission.

“If you’d listen to reason…” he said.

“I’m not the one being unreasonable…” she countered.

“If you guys are going to do battle, could you do it in the kitchen?” Georgia asked, never taking her gaze from the news channel.

“No battle here, only clashing opinions,” Ronan said.

“Do you want mine?” Georgia asked.

“No,” Laura spoke up fast. She already knew her sister’s opinion. Hadn’t she heard it every day for the past two weeks?

Use him and lose him
seemed to be the main theme. Which was easy enough to understand since Georgia was still a little bitter about her ex-husband. But Laura already knew that option wasn’t for her. She’d tried to lose him and look what had happened. He had plopped himself into her world and showed no signs of leaving.

Using him though, was way too tempting.

His cell phone rang. Ronan checked the readout and stood up. “I’ve a need to take this, sorry.”

Laura shrugged, but wondered who was calling. One of the millions of women already making her move? She watched him go, headed for the kitchen and some privacy. Her gaze fixed on his butt, and she sighed a little at the view.

“Oh, yeah.” Georgia muffled a laugh. “You don’t want him. That’s so clear.”

“I love you,” Laura said. “Now, shut up.”

“I just don’t get why you have to torture yourself. What does it prove? That you’re tough? Well congrats. We all know how strong you are.”

“This isn’t about being strong”

“Then what is it about?”

“Being
safe
,” she said before she could think about it. When the words were out, she realized that was the simple truth. She’d allowed Ronan to mean too much to her. Allowed fantasies and dreams to replace reality. She’d set herself up to be disappointed. Hurt. Ronan had walked away because he didn’t want what she wanted. Well, nothing had changed, had it? They were still light-years apart on that score. Why go back for more pain?

“Safe is overrated,” Georgia said, watching her.

“Says the woman who hasn’t had a date in six months.”

“I’m picky.”

“You’re scared.”

Georgia scowled at her. “I’ve got reasons.”

“So do I,” Laura said, “so let’s leave it at that.”

Georgia hit the mute button on the TV and turned around in her chair so she could face Laura. “You know I love you, right? But you’re nuts.”

“What?” She shot a look at the kitchen doorway, making sure Ronan was out of earshot.

“Are you going for sainthood here, or are you just trying to kill Ronan?”

“Neither, thanks. Don’t you have a news program to watch?”

“Please, like I’m really watching it.” Georgia shook her head. “Since you won’t split up our happy little threesome, I was
trying
to give you some privacy. Maybe I should just go upstairs.”

“Don’t.” Laura frowned at her sister. “If you do, I swear I’ll never make you another chocolate cake as long as you live.”

Grimacing, Georgia admitted, “You fight dirty, but okay. My point is, he wants you. You want him. Why the hell not?”

“You know why not.”

“Honey, I feel for you.” Georgia’s voice softened and dropped into a deeper whisper. “I know what losing the baby did to you. How it hurt you when Ronan left. But in case you haven’t noticed…
he’s back
.”

“For how long?”

“Who knows? Isn’t that the point?” Georgia tucked her short blond hair behind her ears and reminded her sister, “Even when you think it’s forever—that doesn’t mean it will be.”

A twinge of guilt had Laura wincing a little. She knew how her sister had loved that moron who had vowed ‘until death do us part’ and then left her for a brainless cheerleader.

“I can’t do temporary, Georgia. I just can’t.”

“We
all
do temporary, sweetie. It’s just that most of us don’t know it until it’s too late.”

Ronan walked back into the room and looked from Laura to Georgia and back again. “Did I miss something?”

“No,” Georgia said before Laura could. “Just some sister stuff.”

“Everything okay?” Laura asked.

“Yes, and no,” he said. “There’s some trouble at home I’ve to see to. I’ll be flying home to Ireland in the morning.”

She didn’t even look surprised, Ronan thought, and that irritated him. Well, he’d no interest in leaving just yet, either, but he couldn’t ignore the phone call, could he? Clearly, Laura had just been waiting for him to leave again. And now he was accommodating her. Another irritation.

Followed by inspiration.

“Come with me.”

“What?” Laura laughed and shook her head. “Go with you? To Ireland?”

“Aye, to Ireland.” It was perfect, he told himself. He’d been trying to get her back into his bed for weeks now and having her in Ireland—with nowhere to run—could only help him in his quest. She was completely off guard now, and he intended to keep her that way.

“You’re serious.”

“Absolutely. Do you have a passport?”

“Well, sure, but—”

“Then there’s no problem.”

“There’s a huge problem. I can’t just go running off to another country. I’ve got a business and…a
dog
…”

Beast thumped his tail.

“Are you trying to say that Georgia’s incapable of running your business for a week or two?”

“Two?”

“I’ve business to see to at home and while I’m there, I should check in at the offices in Galway as well,” Ronan told her truthfully. “It’s been six months and though phone calls serve well, it’s no substitute for the boss actually being there.”

“Oh, sure,” Laura said, standing up and moving away from him. “Check in at work.”

“I’ll show you my country as you’ve shown me yours.” He kept his voice low, tempting, and smiled inwardly as he watched her waver.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, though her voice was a little less decisive than it had been a moment or two ago. “I can’t—”

She looked at Georgia and the two women exchanged some sort of silent communication that he couldn’t interpret. But Ronan had the feeling he was about to lose, which he wouldn’t allow to happen.

He wanted her all to himself, he thought. And having the home ground advantage wouldn’t hurt his case, either. He’d get her out of her safety zone and into his and see what happened between them then.