Page 86 of Ruthless Savior
I feel a wave of relief, watching the interaction. Already, I can see that my mom has more energy and seems less fragile than she did when I saw her just before the wedding in Boston. Being here has invigorated her already, and I can imagine the fresh airand the feeling of being away from the stress and pressure of home have helped immeasurably.
We’re lucky. So incredibly lucky that instead of me being trapped with some billionaire that Rocco De Luca sold me to, we’re here, with Ronan providing everything we could need. I can’t fathom sometimes how lucky I am that he was there that night. And I need to remember that, when I wonder about his late wife or when I mourn the fact that our marriage is a distant one of convenience. I can’t ask for more—I already have so much that I shouldn’t.
“You look good,” I tell her quietly as we leave the office, and my mom beams.
"I feel better than I have in months," she admits, turning to smile at me. "This place… it's like magic, isn't it?"
We go out to lunch at a little pub, sitting by the window and watching the passersby as we share shepherd’s pie and I sip at a dark beer. Colin drives us back to the estate, and when we pull up, I feel my heart skip in my chest as I see a familiar shape getting out of a black Range Rover.
Ronan is back early.
21
LEILA
For a moment, it doesn’t even occur to me that it could be because of something bad. All I feel is that thrill of desire as I see his lean, muscled body draped in a tailored suit step out of the car, see a breeze shift his reddish-brown hair, catch sight of his chiseled jawline. I hear my mother chuckle next to me, and I look over at her sharply.
“What?” I ask, more defensively than I mean to, and she laughs.
“You’ve got it bad for your husband.” She laughs again, patting my hand. “I know you said it’s just an arrangement. But it’s clear there’s something there.”
I bite my lip, looking away, but all that does is give me another glimpse of Ronan as he says something to one of his security guards. Then he looks up, catching sight of our car, and I think I see a twitch of a smile at his lips.
When I slide out of the car, giving my mom space to get out with Colin’s help, Ronan crosses the gravel to where I’m standing. “How did it go?” he asks, and I swallow hard, trying to regulate my breathing. It’s as if my body has taken off now that he’s standing here—my pulse is racing, my skin tingling, and Iwonder if this is what it’s like to really want someone. I’ve never experienced it with anyone else before.
“It went well,” I manage. “Dr. Flannery is good, my mom likes him. It seems promising.”
“Good.” Ronan’s eyes meet mine, and I feel that familiar electric current run between us. "How are you feeling?"
The question seems loaded somehow, like he's asking about more than just my general well-being. "I'm fine," I say, which has become my standard response to him.
His eyes linger on my face for a moment longer than necessary, and I have to resist the urge to fidget under his gaze. He's wearing a dark suit that fits him perfectly, and his hair is slightly mussed like he's been running his hands through it. There's something about seeing him on this estate, in his element, that makes him even more attractive than usual. And apparently, twenty-four hours away from him has my hormones racing.
This is dangerous.
“You’re back so soon,” I blurt out, then quickly realize that it sounds as if I don’t want him here, at his own house. “I mean—I just didn’t realize… not that you shouldn’t be?—”
Ronan chuckles. “It’s fine. I was going to text you, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure that I wouldn’t get held up, so I thought it was better to just see if I made it. I didn’t want to leave you here alone longer than necessary.”
“We’re fine,” I say automatically, and he smiles.
“Of course you are. It’s cold out. Let’s get inside. I have some calls to make before I can settle in.”
I go upstairs with my mom to make sure that she’s alright, and then go to change into a pair of leggings and a long cashmere tunic sweater, tossing my hair up in a messy bun. As I come downstairs and head toward the kitchen in search of a snack, I hear Ronan’s voice coming from his office.
He's on his phone, speaking in low, tense tones to someone about schedules and security protocols. I catch fragments— "...not until we know for certain..." and "...double the detail on Annie..." and "...Tristan needs to stay put for now..."
My breath catches.Have things gotten worse? Before I can stop myself, I test the doorknob to his office. It turns, and I walk in, seeing Ronan’s head snap up immediately as he sees me enter.
“Yes. I’ll get back to you. Thanks.” He hangs up, his eyes narrowing in on me. “Do you need something, Leila?”
There’s an unusually frosty note to his voice that tells me he doesn’t like me walking into his office uninvited. But I’m too worried about what might be happening to care.
"Everything okay?" I ask, hearing the slight tremor in my voice.
He considers the question for a moment, and I can see him deciding how much to tell me. "Just coordinating some business."
I press my lips together. "Business that involves my safety?"
