the arm and leading me away from the door, “I’ve made the personal sacrifice of bringing in the biggest blabbermouths in town to spread rumours of the mysterious Texas oil tycoon’s eligible daughter.”
I stared up at him in disbelief. “You’re using these women?”
Ronan nodded.
“For their mouths,” he said, grinning wickedly. “For their tongues, lips, etc.”
I shook his hand from my arm. “You’re so full of shit.”
Ronan shrugged casually. “What have you been doing?” he asked.
I threw my hands up into the air in frustration and exclaimed, “Waiting for you!”
Ronan clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Ms Evans,” he said. “I expected more drive out of you, more personal responsibility, more initiative to learn independently.”
His lips were curled into a lazy smile, but his eyes were dark with what looked like anger. I leaned my head back to get a wider view of him.
“Is this because of what I said on the yacht?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
Ronan frowned. “What did you say on the yacht?” he asked. “All I remember are your tits in that bikini top.”
So that was it then, I thought, biting at the inside of my cheek. He was lashing out like a little child. He intended to make me mad. He wanted me jealous. I refused to sink to his level.
“Well, you better get back to work, Mr O’Hara,” I said, patting his shoulder. “Terribly sorry to interrupt.”
Ronan let slip a tiny bit of surprise as I turned toward the staircase.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
I looked back at him over my shoulder as I reached for the iron railing.
“I’m going to follow your lead, teach, and get to work,” I said. “I’m going to practise properly pleasing a lady.”
I wiggled my fingers and then started to descend the staircase.
“What does that mean?” Ronan called after me.
I rolled my eyes and shouted up angrily at him as I crossed the landing, “It means if I’m going to get fucked, I might as well do it myself, asshole.”
“I’m working!” he shouted back before I heard his bedroom door slam shut with enough violence to make the crystals in the chandelier above my head shake.
I cursed him as I continued down the stairs. I cursed myself for letting him get to me.
I had to get it through my head: Ronan O’Hara was who he was and that was that. Expecting anything more from him, no matter the chemistry, no matter the sparks, no matter the desire, would end up in nothing but heartache.
Halfway down to my bedroom, I came across yet another girl in a neon spandex skirt barely covering her vagina skipping up the stairs.
“Kitty P.?” I asked as she went past me blowing a pink bubble gum bubble.
“No,” she giggled. “I’m Kitty K., silly!”
Yeah. Silly fucking me.
Ronan
The parlour was quiet late the next afternoon.
I held a china teacup and saucer in my hands and slowly swirled the little golden spoon as the silence continued. In two pale blue chairs across from me, Kane and Shay sat with arms crossed sternly over their broad chests, neither touching their tea growing cold on the antique marble coffee table. I sipped my tea, slurping loudly despite my raised pinkie.
I returned the cup to the saucer with a tiny clink, and the heavily draped parlour seemed to swallow the noise whole before descending back into a deep silence. Kane and Shay each stared at me, unblinking.
Finally I smiled broadly and asked over the lip of my teacup, “So, who’d like to go first?”
Kane’s icy eyes narrowed even further and Shay sagged into an exacerbated sigh.
“Come now,” I said, setting down my teacup in lieu of a cigarette. “Don’t all go talking all at once.”
Shay leaned forward in his chair and rested his big, tanned forearms on his knees.
“You can’t take her to the Solstice Ball, Ronan,” he said. “I’m sorry, but whatever you’ve been teaching her, it hasn’t stuck.”
I nodded seriously as I tapped the ash from my cigarette. I lounged back in the chaise and bit off the cap of a fountain pen with my teeth, spitting it across the room. I picked up a notepad and poised the pen over the page.
“So you have some negatives,” I said, ready to take notes.
Shay laughed and shook his head.
“Some constructive criticisms,” I added, watching Shay tiredly pinch the bridge of his nose. “An area or two of improvement.”
“An area or two?” Shay repeated, looking at me incredulously.
I waved my pen