Page 25 of Naughty Irish Liar

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“No,” his voice echoed and went straight through the center of me. I was down a half of the glass before I could look at him again.

“You came to talk about my ideas? It appears just saying your name opens a lot of doors. I mean, it’s late in the season to be getting a caterer without months in advance notice, but the moment I said your name they were more than willing to juggle their schedule.” I told him, taking a sip and then another and once I realized my glass was empty in just three gulps I refilled it.

“No, I didn’t. But now you’ve brought it up. How much is this gonna cost me?”

I named the sum and watched his brow arch as if to saydream on, little girl. I rushed on with my selling pitch I’d been practicing.

“It’s for all three of the bars, remember? It’s a good deal, especially since I wrangled a discount from the Karaoke guy on the understanding we’d book him again at least once more during the year.”

I was ready to whip out my notes and sample pictures to further work my case, but he pulled his hands from his pockets, distracting me when he walked forward.

I rushed the glass to my lips. When a tiny buzz began to relax me I thought maybe it was a good idea to add a spritzer. The object was to kill my nerves not be falling down drunk in front of him.

Made all the aware that just through the set of double doors to my right, next to the King Henry VIII console table, was my bedroom.

With a big bed.

A bed I’d fantasized having Ronan on top of. While I was on top of him.

I drank again to put out the flames in my belly and decided I needed to adjust.

Not everything needed a strategic step by step plan.

Not love.

Not giving my virginity to the only man I’d ever loved.

Love and sex should happen organically. I’d put myself back in his atmosphere again. The rest was up to chemistry, if he wanted me as much as I wanted him.

“Bring me prices tomorrow.”

I blinked. “Don’t you want to see the specs now? I have photos of the speciality finger foods the catering company can do. They do these little deep-fried Shepard’s pie bites that the reviews say are to die for. And mini soda bread canapés and I thought we could have these—”

“For the love of my sanity, will you shut your mouth for a second, Catherine!” He said, with a growling bear rumble rattling his throat, facing the mirror over the ornate fireplace, his face was no less dynamic in the pane of glass.

My eyes went wide. Pulse skipped a beat.

Not because he’d told me to shut up.

Or even from fear.

My hormones woke and began opening their legs. Andoh my god, I needed to put the wine down before I dropped it.

I didn’t. Because as we all know when we’re a little buzzed getting more buzzed sounds like thebestidea.

And Ronan MacNamara was standing in my home, looking like a huffing angry beast staring at me and I wasturned on.

From his reflection mirrored back at me, his focus could almost be mistaken for someone attentive in his lazy gaze. I’d pay a billion bucks to know what he was thinking while his silent scrutiny went on, but as I already knew, Ronan MacNamara was a born liar.

AliarI couldn’t forget about.

“You lied, you know.” I pointed and tottered my way over to the one of the couches and dumped myself down, the soft cotton enveloped my butt. Balancing the glass on my knee I tucked my legs under me. “That whole summer, you lied to me, Ronan, about liking me, and then you ran off without giving me a chance to make it right.”

His suckable lips pursed in a manly way. Making him twice as hot. I’d imagined so many times of me sitting on that face and having his groan vibrate through me.

It was so unfair. He didn’t do anything special and he was innately gorgeous.

When he didn’t say anything I became increasingly fidgety. What kind of weirdo came into a person’s house and didn’t talk?