Page 31 of Rags to Royals

The heat between us arcs, sudden and sharp. Like someone touched a match to fuse. One of his hands tunnels into my hair, I arch closer, our mouths open, and our tongues tangle.

His other hand slips to my ass, pulling me up against him fully. My hands find his shirt and I am suddenly gripping it at the shoulders, trying to pull him in closer.

Just as suddenly he rears back. He doesn’t let me go though. He stares at me, taking in how fast I’m breathing, no doubt the flush to my cheeks and how my eyes have dilated.

Finally he says, “You didn’t lie about that.” His voice is rough.

I swallow hard and shake my head. “No.”

There’s no way I could have faked my physical response to him, and I won’t try to pretend otherwise.

“We need to talk,” he tells me.

His voice is firm, gruff, but I can tell that he’s very serious. This is not the laid-back playboy I had the best sex, and besttime, of my life with. This is a determined man who is frustrated and maybe even a little angry with me. I couldn’t have imagined that before. He was fun, spontaneous, mischievous, naughty. But now, he seems…older. More mature. Harder even. But of course, there are sides to him that I didn’t get to know in those two and a half days.

A shiver goes through me. It’s probably a combination of trepidation and excitement. Getting to know other sides of Cian O’Grady could be very dangerous.

“Yeah, probably,” I finally agree. I push away and step back. “I need to shower. I just got home from work. I need something to eat, too. But then we can talk.”

His gaze scans over me and I suddenly remember I’m in only my bra and panties. My entire body heats as it remembers him—his touch, his mouth…other parts of him.

“It definitely wasn’t all fake,” he says.

I blush hotly. No man has ever known my body the way Cian did. Does. I certainly remember every minute of our weekend. Who knows how many women there have been in the past nineteen months, but there’s been no one for me. He was the last man to see me naked. Hell, he was the last man to kiss me. And he’s at least insinuating that he remembers things about that weekend too.

My body likes that.

My heart also likes it.

That is really, really bad.

“I’ll be back down in a little bit,” I choke out.

I spin on my heel and head for the stairs, not looking back, even as I feel his hot gaze on my back.

I get to the bathroom, shut the door, and lock it, then slump against it. I lift my hands to my face.

Honesty, transparency, being genuine and kind are all things I have been working on every day for the past fifteen years.Ironically, I let go of the honesty and being genuine and transparent foroneweekend nineteen months ago and it turned out to be one of the best weekends of my life.

Now, the guy that I’ve told some of the biggest lies is back, demanding the truth.

I really do like the person I’ve become over the past fifteen years far better than the girl I was before.

But I also really liked the woman who spent that weekend with Cian O’Grady.

She wasn’tbad. Exactly. She just wasn’t the Scarlett Gale that I need to be to live in Emerald.

So, I need to get rid of Cian O’Grady. Once and for all.

Being a responsible human adult really sucks sometimes.

Chapter 7

Cian

The screen door slaps and I hear footsteps pad across the wooden porch. My pulse quickens but I don’t look back.

Henry looks at me from where he’s sitting next to me on the top step. “Keep your cool,” he tells me.

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