Page 17 of Naughty Irish Liar

I was still stewing on his dismissal as easy as if I wasn’t the girl he’d pressed his erection into. And each time I’d seen him thereafter I’d only glared at his arrogant raise of his brow. I wouldn’t sass him in front of everyone but in private… if I got the chance again when he’d stopped avoiding me, all bets were off. It was proving harder to be around him then I first initially thought.

How was I supposed to win him over if he wasn’t, you know…present?

I tucked my legs under the café seat where I’d stowed my bag and continued on my Google search.

I doubtedHow to romance a guy who you once tried to seduce as a teenagerwas in a search engine. Besides which, I was supposed to be studying, not daydreaming about a pair of warrior blue eyes and a mouth I’d only tasted once and yet it had haunted me ever since.

With a powerful man like Ronan there was no room to be cautious. I’d closely observed him talking to his team of staff, how they respected his word and authority. I seriously got turned on just watching him be … a man. Handling his business, watching his forearms flex when he was serving, the roughness of his voice when it dropped real low.

Before I could change my mind, reminding myself this was my goal unless I wanted to resort to a dating app and all they wanted was a fast hook up—thanks, but I owned several skilled vibrators for that. I pulled up his number and typed out a message.

Catie:This is your favorite employee and I request a meeting to discuss Irish things that may or may not include dancing and tatties.

Ronan:I doubt this is my favorite employee because they know not to text me unless my pubs burn down. Stop saying tatties.

Catie:You cannot take away my freedom to tatties!! How about that meeting, boss who has no humor?

Ronan:I can’t right now.

Catie:Are you on a date?????????

Ronan:Seriously with the question marks?

Catie:Forget I asked. None of my business, but if it were I’d say stop being on a date immediately.

Catie:In fact. It’s a great idea. See what I do, boss? They just keep on coming. Seriously, I need a meeting, preferably today.

No answer came which irked me. Was he with a woman? Was he in the throes of wild passionate monkey sex right now while I was trying unsuccessfully yet again to get his attention?

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of him unleashing his sexual power on someone else. The girl from last week draped over him like sweat on a WWE wrestler still caused me untold jealous spurts until I wanted to demand he lock up his dick, preferably in a steel cage, guarded by a moat until I’d fully won him over.

He had no right having sex when I wasn’t. Didn’t he know we were meant to be? I’d been celibate this entire time, and so should he!

I slumped an elbow to the table. This called for donuts with unicorn sprinkles.

After my third lunch and one more coffee I packed up my laptop and took the walk home.

I lived in a hotel. One of daddy’s, to be more precise. It’s more like a little apartment with two bedrooms, kitchen suite and a bathroom. I suppose I was an heiress brat to a point because I hadn’t wanted to live in the dorms or a dingy little apartment shared with six others. I intend to move out once I graduate and while rent is free, I’m not a total parental bum because I buy all my own amenities, and I never use the mini bar nor room service.

The twenty-five-minute walk across Manhattan was spent with my head in the clouds. I’d moped for years. Tried to get over a man that wasn’t even mine. I dated a bunch of guys in my first and second year of college to no avail. The Irish drawl still visited me late at night in my dreams promising me untold passion and complete adoration.

While I had a hunch—due to his hardness rubbing against my belly—that Ronan would do me like a circus freak, the complete adoration was proving to be trickier. I’d been silly in assuming he’d take one look at me and begin a hot romantic pursuit.

He couldn’t get away from me fast enough most days.

I said hi to the doorman once I arrived at the Clemonte Hotel, then I talked a minute with the concierge asking after his wife and kids and how his sick mom was doing and then I spent another minute talking to a porter I’d dated briefly for a minute last spring. He still tried to wrangle a date out of me sometimes, usually asking me to basketball or hockey games. I liked sports. But not enough to fake it with a guy I wasn’t feeling. And it wasn’t fair to him either so into the friendzone he went.

Fiddling with my iPod as I stepped out of the elevator on the fifteenth floor, the stupid thing was skipping songs for no good reason again, I didn’t see the figure outside my door until I was almost there.

And then my heart did that funny little spinning thing where it lost blood and the power to function properly.

Because resting his shoulder against the wall outside my door—Room 5031. Looking like he had no place else to be, was Ronan.

Seventeen million thoughts all shunted through my mind at once and I nearly had heart failure right there in the passageway.

The overall loudest thought was he looked incredible.

GQ with a mix of bad boy thrown in. Dressed unpretentiously in jeans, a shirt and a gray sweater over the top with the collar and cuffs showing he looked about as gorgeous as a man I craved could.

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