Page 83 of Dangerous Strokes

I don’t know if she can see the slight defeat on my face because she quickly follows up. “How about tomorrow?”

I’m beaming from the inside out. I don’t want to get too excited, but… I’m proud. She’s making some progress, letting herself heal slowly.

“Sounds good. Tomorrow then. Now, let’s go say goodbye to everyone and go get you in a bath.”

I begin to pull away when she forces me back to her.

“Not so fast. You still haven’t told me why you’re stitched up!”

I almost forgot about that. How rude of me, considering it’s the discovery of that stab wound that flipped her attitude just minutes ago, from anger and rejection to full-blown concern, all the above dissipating in a matter of seconds. I couldn’t suppress my grin when I realized that she definitely did not stop loving me.

I tell her a shortened version of the events leading up to her kidnapping and I’m sickly enjoying the worry and shock on her face. She’s constantly asking me if I’m okay, if it still hurts, how I feel, and so on, like she’s not sporting worse wounds in her thighs at the very moment. She worries about me, completely forgetting her own condition. If that’s not good mother material, I’m not sure what is.

When we finally leave the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of Finn retiring to his side of the penthouse, and the rest of the space seems silent.

Good, we’re alone.

“Bath now?” she asks with a ginger expression.

“Bath now.”

But I’m looking forward to tomorrow.

CHAPTER 19

ANNIKA

The scent of the forest,the wildflowers toward the end of their bloom, and the wet ground around the waterfall are a treat to the senses. Last time I was here, on a midsummer night, Hanna and I were playing what seemed like a dangerous game. If only we would have known what was coming… I guess it’s better we didn’t. We were so free, so happy. It’s August now, yet that night seems like it happened much longer ago, in a different life.

Yet Ronan’s touch on me, his lips on mine for the first time, they linger. I can’t help but fall into that memory. I had a lot of liquid courage, but it wasn’t just the alcohol that took me out of my shell, it was the man holding my hand right now. I looked at him and something in me stirred, a sort of animalistic hunger that demanded him. And I let it consume me. I don’t think that hunger is gone, just dormant somehow.

We walk around to the right edge of the pool, and he pulls me on top of this large, flat rock.

“We’ll sit here for a bit, yeah?”

I nod and lean over to get my shoes off, but his hand on my shoulder stops me. I turn to him, confused, but then he drops on one knee in front of me, picks up my foot, and begins untying my shoelaces. Looking at him in awe, I steady myself on his shoulders.

He’s on his freaking knee helping me out of my shoes!

I’m not sure if it’s showing on my face, but internally I’m squeaking.

He removes my Converse, giving my bare foot a quick swipe of his thumb, sending a shudder through me. I think I might ask him for a foot massage at some point. He’s good with his fingers, so he’ll be amazing at that too. He does the same to the other foot, then he rises, and helps me sit on the edge of the rock, my feet submerged in the slightly chilly water.

God, it feels good.

He takes off his own sneakers, rolling up the legs of his sweatpants, his toned, defined calves distracting me before he sits next to me.

We say nothing for a while, enjoying the day, the sounds of the forest, the scent of everything, the sun on our skin. There’s something to be said about the ability to sit in silence next to someone and to be so utterly comfortable.

The sun has been high in the sky for some time, the rays making the pool sparkle. It all looks so incredibly different in the light of the day than it looked that night in the middle of that party. It’s peaceful, idyllic.

“I wish I could have stopped her from trying to save me that day… One more minute, and your intrusion would have turned Bartiste away from us. Just one more…”

Ronan looks down at me, some stray strands of hair falling over his forehead making his handsome features look more boyish.

“My mother didn’t teach me many things herself, but one lesson will always stay with me. As much as I’m not a believer in the mysticism of life, this I tend to believe—if it’s meant to be, it’s going to be.”

“Isn’t that usually applied to good things? Lovers reunited and all that?” I ask.

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