Page 3 of Illusive
When she pushed away from the bar in a sudden explosion of movement and marched toward him with jaw tightened andmurder in her eyes, Ronan’s heartbeat quickened. Her outward beauty hid something to be reckoned with.
What fire. And ferocity.
He resisted the urge to hop off the stage and meet her halfway. He remained where he was simply because her direct assault was too thrilling.
Directness was always his preferred choice. The years of carefully concealed business moves that enabled his takeover of Vidal Records had been bearable solely because vengeance kept him motivated.
Abruptly, Ireland flashed a dazzling smile that scattered his thoughts. When she stopped at a table in front of the stage and began speaking to a couple whose grunge-rock style conflicted with the theme of the bar, Ronan felt a spurt of irritation that her attention was no longer fixed on him.
He read the words formed by her lips, a skill he’d picked up long ago that had literally saved his life on occasion. Astonished and puzzled, Ronan grasped that she was confronting someone else. Following the conversation between the three, he felt his interest sharpen. It honed to a fine point when he watched her direct hotel security to escort the couple out of the bar.
Was this an elaborately staged performance for his benefit? A flexing of power before wielding it against him? If so, he was flattered.
As he finished the song, he watched as Ireland Vidal stretched those mile-long legs in a direct walk tohisreserved table, where she settled gracefully into one of the club chairs facing the wall.
Turning away from the enthusiastic applause and whistles of the audience after a slight bow of gratitude, Ronan placed his trumpet in its stand near stage left. He approached his unexpected but not unwelcome guest from behind, unseen. He studied her slouched posture, which read as both defiant and…dejected? His hackles rose, his suspicions mounting. Her beauty already had the power to disarm him if he weren’t careful. He could not allow her to elicit his sympathy, either. Rounding her chair, he paused beside her, strung tight with expectation at seeing her up close and in person.
With a slight turn of her head, she studied his boots first, then slid her gaze up the length of his legs. When she lingered a second too long on the juncture between his thighs, those eyes of tropical blue widened slightly, and his heart skipped a beat as he absorbed the feeling of being sized up and found to be worth looking at. It was an all-too-familiar sensation, but this time the woman checking him out was extraordinary in every way.
He felt her gaze glide over his torso. She paused at his mouth, arrested, and he appreciated the momentary respite to gather his composure. He shouldn’t give a damn what she thought of his appearance, but regardless of who she was, he was a red-blooded male, and Ireland Vidal could not have been designed to please his personal tastes more.
That was surprising. He’d always believed women of Southern sensibility and style were more suited to his nature.
When Ireland finally met his gaze, Ronan felt like he’d rocked back onto his boot heels. Time slowed to a halt, trapping him in amber with her—a threat previously unknown to him.
No, that wasn’t quite true. Hadn’t he been wondering how and in what way she might be atracasfor him? He knew how to deal with the rest of her family, but Ireland had always been a question mark.
Suddenly, she turned her attention away, her lushly curved lips thinned disapprovingly. “I don’t want company.”
Ronan stared down at the gorgeous creature occupying his space, momentarily at a loss for a response.
What game was she playing? Had she decided she didn’t need the hotel security’s help to remove him?
Well… Even though he’d already won, it wouldn’t hurt to play along.
“Fine by me,” he replied, walking to the loveseat opposite her and sinking into the plush cushion. Was she intending to humiliate him publicly? Had she thought he’d leave quietly before she could make a scene? She would soon learn that he’d been forged of sterner stuff.
Now at eye level with her, he drank her in. She wore a black leather blazer and matching leather shorts paired with a top the color of her eyes. Her skin was luminous and appeared bare; her makeup was minimal if she wore any at all. Her flawlessness withstood closer scrutiny and defied it.
He had no defense against that heart-shaped face with its exquisite symmetry. The plump lips that sent his thoughts straight into the gutter. Those eyes that tilted up slightly at the corners…
Her gaze narrowed dangerously. “Which part of what I said did you not understand?”
Her frosty tone could not fully suppress her voice’s natural warm huskiness, and Ronan wanted to hear more of it.
“It’s my table,” he replied easily in a subtle taunt, glancing at his instrument case and discarded suit jacket to prove his claim. It was more aptlyhertable, as the entire hotel bore her surname, and he waited for her to press that point.
Was she blushing?
She bolted to her feet, and Ronan surged to stand along with her, prepared to pursue. It was an instinctive reaction that had nothing to do with etiquette. And he had no time to ponder that as Sam appeared behind her and quickly placed two Old Fashioneds on the table between them. Catching the question in Ronan’s arched brow, the bartender explained, “One for the lady and one she bought for you.”
Ireland scowled at Sam but was clearly embarrassed. Without the armor of her anger and disdain, her youth became apparent, giving Ronan pause. An unwelcome spurt of sympathy irritated him.
Maudit. She was always going to be collateral damage; that was never in question. He’d only wondered how innocent she was. How much did she know? And how far might she be willing to go to change her fate?
Did her motives matter if he could have her, if only for a few hours…?
He did the only thing that made sense in the moment: picked up his drink and thanked her. When she looked as if she still intended to leave, he challenged her to linger. “The place is packed. You’re leaving the only open seat, and you’ve got a drink that’ll take a while to enjoy. You’re welcome to stay, but let me be clear: while I very much enjoy an exchange of harmless flirting with a beautiful woman—and you are, without question, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—I’m not looking for a hookup.”
