Chapter Thirty-two
NINA
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
Ronan invaded my thoughts before he ever invaded my dreams.
I couldn’t sleep.
My mind kept replaying his words, his touch, and the way he looked at me like I was still his. I tried to drown it all out by throwing myself into work, forcing my focus onto my proposal until exhaustion finally won and I passed out at my desk.
That was when he followed me into sleep.
He was everywhere in the dream, his voice in my ear, his hands on my skin, his gaze burning through me. When I woke, the feeling hadn’t faded. My body still tingled, and my thoughts refused to settle.
Now, sitting in my office, the cursor blinked on my finished proposal, but my nerves were wound too tight to hit send.
And still, I hadn’t found a space for my boutique in the city. That worry hung over me, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on it now. The proposal had to come first. Everything else could wait.
I exhaled sharply, pressing my fingers against my temples. The numbers, projections, and sketches blurred together.
A knock sounded at my door.
“Inaya, I’ll be out in a second,” I called, assuming she was checking in.
But the voice that answered wasn’t hers.
“Not Inaya.”
I froze, my hands stilling over my laptop. That voice. Low, smooth, and too familiar.
I turned sharply in my chair, my pulse kicking up a notch. “Ronan?”
He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame like he had all the time in the world. A to-go cup sat in his hand, steam curling into the air.
“Espresso,” he said simply.
I blinked. “Huh?”
He took a step closer, placing the cup on my desk. “You have this presentation, and typically, you forget to eat during them.”
How did he know about the presentation?
Did I mention it?
I must’ve, or maybe I was too busy getting turned on by him.
Dear God, help me.
I stared at the cup, warmth creeping up my neck. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” His gaze softened, the intensity in his blue eyes making my stomach flip. “I figured you were prepping.”
Why was he even here?
Didn’t he have a whole hospital and an empire to run?
I swallowed, wrapping my fingers around the cup. The heat seeped into my palms, grounding me. “You didn’t have to come all this way for me, Ronan.”
“Yes, I did.” His voice left no room for argument.
There was something about the way he said it—like it was obvious, inevitable.
I looked at him, my chest tight with something unnameable, and for the first time all morning, the nerves quieted.
I wanted to forget the past, the walls I built, the reasons I kept him at arm’s length. I wanted to melt into him, let myself fall. But I didn’t.
Instead, I let him stay, and for the next two hours we sat side by side, going over every detail of my presentation. He caught things I missed, made me rephrase points, and even played devil’s advocate, forcing me to sharpen my arguments.
It was annoying.
And frustrating.
And exactly what I needed.
Then it was time.
Ronan leaned back as I stood, smoothing down my blazer. “Go, kill it.”
I exhaled. “I hope so.”
He shook his head, something certain and unshakable in his expression. “You’re Nina Morretti. You’re magic.”
That stuck with me long after I walked out the door.
The presentation was for the Couture Visionary Initiative, a panel of ten industry leaders searching for the next brand to invest in. We already had partnerships, but this was the step into serious funding.
They were designers, investors, and marketing executives—people who had built empires and now had the power to open even more doors for mine.
I stood there, in my element, delivering every word with the precision Ronan helped me fine-tune. The nerves were there, but so was the confidence. By the time I finished, I knew I had them.
And I was right.
When it was all said and done, when the questions were answered, and the handshakes were exchanged, I walked out of there with the opportunity of a lifetime.
By the time I returned to my office, the sky was pitch black.
I pushed open the door, heading toward my desk to grab my purse—only to freeze.
Ronan was still there.
Asleep.
He sat in the same spot I left him, arms crossed, head tilted slightly like he’d been waiting and dozed off. I gazed, stunned. He stayed?
Slowly, I walked over, crouching beside him. I hesitated, then reached out, gently shaking his shoulder.
His eyes snapped open instantly, alert even through the sleep haze. “How was it?”
I pulled back, still processing. “You stayed.”
He shrugged like it was obvious. “Yeah.”
I gave him a pointed look. “I was gone for like six hours.”
He stretched, barely hiding a yawn. “Felt like five minutes.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
Then, before I could gather my thoughts, he said, “There’s dinner for you. Pasta.”
I blinked. “You—” I exhaled. “Thanks.”
He shrugged again. “No problem.”
I set my purse down, glancing toward the door. “I should check on—”
“They’re already gone,” he interrupted. “I helped them with a fabric delivery. You had some bad lights that needed fixing, so I handled it, and your chair had a squeak, so I tightened it. There was a loose screw.”
I stared at him.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Inaya could be a little nicer to me, but eh.”
That startled a laugh out of me. She was skeptical… to say the least.
He grinned, like that was his goal. “Everyone left. Inaya realized I wasn’t leaving, so she left for a wedding rehearsal or something.”
I was still standing there, still absorbing the level of care in everything he did. Fixing things. Helping my team. Making sure I had food. This was the Ronan I fell in love with.
He stood, stepping closer. “Now I know your presentation went well, you have dinner, and you’re safe.” His voice dropped slightly, softer and deliberate. “I’m going to leave.”
He walked closer, stopping right before me.
Was he going to kiss me?
“I’m not going to kiss you.”
I swallowed.
“Only your knuckles.”
He lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my knuckles, lingering a second longer than necessary.
“Goodnight, tesoro,” he murmured.
He turned to go, and I didn’t know I was going to say it until the words blurted out,“Eat dinner with me.”
Ronan stilled. “Hm?”
I swallowed, heart racing as I repeated, “Eat dinner with me.”
His gaze flicked to mine, something unreadable passing through his expression before he nodded once. “I will.”
Relief hit me in a way I didn’t expect. “Okay.”
We sat and ate, all while he listened to me yap about everything from the panel’s reactions to the tiniest details that made me nervous. He listened like it mattered, like I mattered.
By the time I glanced at the clock, it was a little after one in the morning, but for once, I didn’t care.