Page 122 of Sweet Temptation

A shiver went through me at the memory of that gentle, careful, unnecessary touch.

“I’m fine. All in a day’s work, right?” I repeated Sledge’s words, which were fresh in my mind.

The concerned look on Ronan’s face clouded over. “Yeah? Is this how all your shows end?”

“You were at one of my shows last night,” I said. “How did that end?”

He said nothing. He knew very well that it had ended civilly, with martinis and hugs, a few classy afterparties, and him taking me back to the hotel safe and sound.

“I’m not saying that was normal,” I clarified. “But it wasn’t exactly the first time things went to hell at a show I played. Crazy shit happens in nightclubs. Gang violence. Stupid drunken brawls. People get busted with weapons. I’ve definitely had a few shows end with the lights flipping on and the police storming in.”

“And yet, you never had a bodyguard,” he said flatly.

“Well, no one was after me,” I said defensively. “I was never in danger. And sometimes the venue provided a bouncer to hang out by my dressing room or whatever. I had Sledge to walk me out. I usually have a ton of friends at my shows… I’m never alone.”

He just stared at me for a moment, his jaw hardening again.

Then he looked away, out the window.

When we pulled up to the hotel, Andre dropped us at the front entrance and Ronan escorted me up to my room. He walked me in without a word, turned on the lights and searched the room before heading back to the door.

“What’s wrong, Ronan?” I asked him. Because something was wrong.

Something was going on. Something more than his usual hard-ass security guy routine. And more than the thing at the club tonight.

I could feel it.

Ever since this morning, he’d been edgy and tense. And it was starting to put me on edge, too.

I was all stressed out now, thanks to some idiot gangbangers who’d decided to tear apart a perfectly lovely fundraiser over… whatever. Money? Territory? Male egos gone totally out of control?

I needed to destress, and so far, it wasn’t happening. With Ronan all tense, I couldn’t seem to relax.

For someone I’d only known a week, I was waaay too tuned into him and his moods.

He was standing by the door, and he drew a deep breath before he looked up and met my eyes. “Tell me. Is that really the kind of people you want around you?”

“What people?”

“I mean, is that the kind of man you want?”

I stared at him.

After what just happened… he was challenging me about my feelings for Yancy, of all things?

Before I could even respond to that, he said, “Because I’m telling you, Summer, that is the kind of man who shrivels when someone tries to break into your house in the middle of the night.”

“I was never planning to marry Yancy,” I informed him. “He’s always made it clear that he’s attracted to me, but we had a working relationship. Tonight was just a work thing.”

“Right. Well, you might want to screen your ‘work things’ a little better. You deserve better.”

I just kept staring at him.

He stared back.

“I realize that,” I said slowly. “And if I knew what was going to happen, I never would’ve asked you to leave me at the club.”

He straightened. “That wasn’t—”

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