she intended to look at me; I don’t think she intended for me to see myself as a threat to her, I was below that, after all. I caught her jealous gaze nonetheless and it gave me great joy to know that even if things didn’t go any further with Ronan and me than tonight, at least I had tonight.
Smiling myself, I answered, “I think we’re being very rude right now, keeping Ms Anna from her diligent, selfless work of scoping out the perfect moonlit balcony upon which to moon.”
Anna managed a half-hearted laugh, the better alternative to revealing just how much I’d gotten under her admittedly flawless skin.
“Delaney, I do believe you are most right,” Ronan said cheerfully, once again taking up my arm. “Anna, darling, we leave you to it.”
Anna’s eyes followed us as Ronan guided me past her; they were unblinking.
“I’ll be seeing you later tonight, Ronan, dearest,” she said.
“I do hope not,” he said back.
Ronan walked me, without the faintest hint of a stumble or sway, through the crowd which had swelled to fill the grand staircase and both crushed velvet-lined rooms on either side of the high-ceilinged foyer. When we were out of Anna’s earshot, or at least presumably, because I couldn’t be quite sure that she wasn’t part bat, Ronan leaned in conspiratorially, his cheek against mine.
“You do know that I’m not entirely sober, don’t you?” he asked.
“Of course,” I whispered, feeling the corners of my lips tugged up by a sudden change in gravity or the little chubby fingers of cupid, whichever you find more likely.
“And, to be fair, I do have a rather well-formed ass, wouldn’t you agree?”
I nodded, trying not to laugh. “Indeed.”
“And you do know, Ms Evans, that I would rather be inclined to give the paparazzi a peek at my well-formed ass if it was you I was rendezvousing with on that balcony with the delightful view of the Eiffel Tower?” he asked next in a hushed, happy whisper.
I chewed my lip, eyeing the crowd we passed through to see if anyone had heard him.
“Yes,” I said, feeling like the two of us had sneaked in past the security-lined red velvet rope. “I do know you, Mr O’Hara.”
Ronan held back my hand, stilling me so that he could slip in front of me. He rested his hand against my cheek and smiled down at me. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do believe you do.”
His thumb brushed across my cheekbone and the noise of the crowd slipped away like the gusts of a passing storm, leaving nothing but a calm stillness.
“I have to say that I like the me that you know,” Ronan said, hand still on my cheek. “I’d like to get to know him better, I think.”
I watched as he struggled to find the next words.
His eyes dropped from mine and he bit his lip. “But after tonight—”
“Drinks!”
Ronan’s eyes shot back to mine in confusion and I was sure his was mirrored by my own. I hadn’t really meant to blurt that out, to interrupt him, but a wave of panic rose out of the blue and it had a will and a power of its own completely out of my control. It was a shout of instinct, nothing more. When the sands of time are slipping through your fingers, who wouldn’t snap their fingers tightly together to attempt to save just a few, just a few more seconds.
Because as long as the words “But after tonight” didn’t leave Ronan’s lips, there were still a few grains of sands in my palms. I wasn’t yet ready to let them go.
“Drinks?” Ronan asked, looking around a little embarrassed like he’d just remembered where he was.
I slapped him roughly on the arm like we were just two buddies about to go hog hunting in the middle of nowhere Texas. That, at least, was safer than almost-somethings, almost-nothings.
“Hell yeah,” I said, slipping into my southern drawl like slipping into my comfiest, most well-worn pair of Cheetos-stained, extra-stretchy sweatpants. “I mean, it’s not like we ain’t gonna raise at least a little Cain tonight.”
Ronan looked at me funny and laughed a not quite natural laugh. “Yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “Yeah, whatever you said.”
I smiled as he told me he’d go grab us a round, smiled as he turned to weave through the crowd, smiled as he looked back over his shoulder at me, whether to make sure I wasn’t pulling a flask of moonshine from my bra or to make sure