Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
She hesitates, glancing at Lex who nods. “Okay.”
Lex gives me a look I can’t quite read—then claps me on the shoulder as he walks away.
I shift my weight, looking Posey in the eye. “I’m not good at apologies.”
Her brow arches. “That so?”
“Yes. But I need you to know I regret how I handled things before. I was a bastard. Didn’t give you a fair shot, didn’t give Lex the benefit of the doubt. I let my own shit color how I saw you, and that wasn’t fair. I was a bastard for outing you to the press, and I know it hurt both you and Lex. I’d even like to say that wasn’t my intention, but it was. I know I can’t take it back, but if I could, I would.”
She studies me, quiet, then says, “That’s quite a mouthful.”
“I practiced in the bathroom mirror this morning,” I quip, making a joke because I’m nervous.
Her lips twitch. “Lex mentioned you might say something. I wasn’t sure I believed him.”
“Well,” I say with a shrug, “believe it. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I wanted you to know I regret it.”
“Why now?” she asks. “You and I don’t have to get along. We could happily ignore each other.”
I think about that a moment, and I wonder how much of this has to do with Francesca. I don’t have a good answer. “I know that you make Lex happy. And from here on out, I’ve got his back. Which means I’ve got yours too.”
Her eyes soften. “Thank you. And I know you don’t expect it, but I do forgive you.”
And then, to my utter shock, she steps forward and hugs me. Brief but warm, and before I can react, she’s walking away toward Lex.
I watch her for a second, a tightness unclenching in my chest, before turning back toward the bar. Amelia’s still there—now leaning in to talk to another driver, her smile practiced and perfect. I scan the crowd for Francesca, but she’s nowhere in sight.
That’s fine. I’ll be seeing her soon enough.
CHAPTER 15
Ronan
By the time I pull up outside Francesca’s flat, my pulse is already a slow, deliberate thud in my ears. The city’s quiet for a Friday night, but inside, I am anything but calm.
I don’t know why I’m this keyed up. Maybe because I spent the rest of the gala pretending Amelia’s chatter was remotely interesting while counting down the minutes until I could get here. Or maybe because the last time I touched Francesca, it was in a locked bathroom with both of us one breath from tearing each other apart.
I kill the engine and sit there for a beat, running through the same useless questions: What are we doing? Is this just sex? Do I even care if it’s more?
The truth is, I want to see her and that won’t happen sitting in the car.
I knock twice and hear a muffled sound from inside, then the click of the lock, which sends my heartbeat out of control. It very nearly arrests when she opens the door wearing a barely there negligee in midnight blue. My eyes roam over her body and fuck me if she doesn’t wear that a little too well.
My body immediately reacts over those perfect curves and bare skin. It’s a Herculean effort to drag my eyes back to hers.
“Barnes.” Her voice is cool, but her eyes—fuck, they give her away.
“Accardi.” I lean one shoulder against the doorframe, trying for casual. “You going to let me in, or are we doing this for everyone to see?”
She huffs out a laugh and steps aside. “Wouldn’t want to give the neighbors a show.”
The door shuts behind me, and for a moment we stand in the low light of her flat, the air between us charged. “Thought you said you’d be naked.”
“Figured I’d give you a little challenge to work through,” she says, giving a sashay of her hips. It’s sexy and adorable at the same time. In all my life, I’ve never been charmed by a woman and yet, it’s one of the things that attracts me to her the most.
I reach for her, catching the hem that sits at mid-thigh and tugging her closer. That quick hitch of her breath is all the invitation I need. She looks up, lips curving like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me in that slip of a nightie.
I don’t bother with small talk. I brush her bare leg and yank her into me. The move earns a quiet gasp, but her eyes—golden and lit with recklessness—don’t waver. For a beat, I take in the defiance of her chin tilt and the faint flush at her throat.
She’s fucking stunning.
I lean down, brushing my lips over hers. It’s barely contact, just enough to taste her. The permission I didn’t ask for but need all the same.