Chapter 41Eden
41
Eden
E den woke up the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the gauzy linen curtains. The sun reflected brightly off the ocean waves outside, blinding her eyes. She was caught in the top sheet, her leg tangled with another pair of warm, solid legs.
As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she gazed at the tousle of dark brown hair beside her. Ronan's lips were slightly parted in sleep, his arm wrapped securely around her waist. He looked angelic, framed by the bright stream of light filtering through the curtains. Unable to resist, she traced her thumb over his full, dark eyebrow, marveling at the sheer beauty of his face.
"It's rude to stare," Ronan murmured, his eyes still closed as if he sensed her gaze. He pulled her closer, and she ran her fingers through his soft hair.
The night before had been life-changing, something so rare that Eden couldn't help but feel how special it was. This type of connection went deeper than just words or touch. It was an understanding of souls, a fusing of something bigger.
Ronan's fingers gently traced the intricate lines of her tattoo on her ribs, following the delicate branches until they reached her sternum.
"I can't believe this tattoo has been on your skin all this time, and I only saw it yesterday," he whispered softly, his breath warm against her ear. "I want to see it every day."
His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she bit her lip to suppress the swell of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. As he looked at her with those eyes filled with tenderness and desire, the realization of what he meant to her hit her square in the chest. Usually, a statement like that would have her running with Usain Bolt-level speed far, far away, most likely catching the next flight out of California. Commitment had been something she avoided over the last few years, a locked door she refused to open.
Enjoy this while you can , her brain mocked. She quickly pushed away the nagging thought. Her brain was still battling with her heart, a silent struggle waging within her body.
She let herself relax into his touch, tuning out the conflict and focused on feeling the warmth of his body against hers, the steadiness of his breath. Her fingers absently traced the line of his jaw, enjoying the rough, dark stubble against her skin. She watched as a soft smile played at the corners of his lips, it made her heart skip.
Ronan's fingers continued exploring, mapping out her tattoo's delicate petals and intricate details. As he traced the final line, his hand came to rest over her heart, feeling the steady rhythm beneath his palm. Her heart fluttered at that touch. He had unlocked something inside her, something profound. She had never felt such a strong connection to anyone before. And last night seemed to have peeled back a layer of her soul, making her realize she was unequivocally his—body and soul.
He had taken root within her heart, stretching and sprawling, embedding within her. Over the passing weeks, those roots had grown deeper, penetrating and weaving an intricate web that now seemed to envelop her entire being. It was a bond that felt so deep that attempting to sever it would leave her heart mutilated beyond repair.
"Does it mean anything?" Ronan's eyes continued exploring her tattoo, still tracing its intricate lines.
"It's a branch of magnolias," Eden began her voice initially a bit raspy from sleep. She cleared her throat gently before continuing. "I used to stare at the magnolias in Central Park growing up. They were one of the first flowers to bloom in the spring, and it always felt like a reprieve after a long, freezing winter. The ground would thaw, and the magnolias would always bloom. I remember seeing them during some tough times at home. That burst of pink in the shades of gray. I would stare at those flowers and think, 'If they can still bloom after countless harsh winters, maybe I can too.' So, I got this tattoo as a reminder of my own resilience." Ronan's fingers glided over her ribs as she spoke, leaving a trail of electric sensations in their wake.
"It fits you perfectly. You are one of the strongest people I know," he replied, his lips tenderly kissing the center of her sternum, his eyes meeting hers. A thousand butterflies took flight in her stomach, their wings fluttering in a frenzy at his words and the softness in his eyes.
"What time is it?" Ronan asked suddenly, his body going taut. Eden glanced at the clock over his shoulder.
"It's 7:57," she replied, her words with a sleepy yawn.
"Shit. I have a video meeting at 8 o'clock," Ronan exclaimed, his body tense as he kicked the sheet off their lower halves. He hurriedly got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom to gather his clothes. "Can you double-check and make sure the meeting is still scheduled?" His voice echoed from the bathroom. "It should be in my email."
"Okay," she said, reaching for his phone on the bedside table. As she unlocked it, an email chain titled "Iran Position Available" was already open. Anxiety gripped her chest as she read the message, and a cold pit formed in her stomach.
The room seemed to grow colder, and she struggled to catch her breath. Insecurity wrapped its icy fingers around her heart. Was she biding her time until he decided she wasn't worth the effort? Just like everyone else had. He was leaving. It was only a matter of time. She was foolish to think this day wouldn't come.
She had wanted to believe that this time would be different, that he would stay. But her old wounds still ran deep, and this email had torn them open in seconds. The fear of being abandoned, of not being enough, overwhelmed her.
She stared at the phone, feeling numb. Her thoughts raced with doubts and insecurities. Was she just a temporary distraction for him? Was their connection nothing more than a fleeting moment in time, destined to be forgotten when he moved on to his next project?
"Did you find it?" Ronan's voice broke through her thoughts as he walked towards her, still in his wrinkled clothes from yesterday. Doubt gnawed at the edges of her mind, causing her pulse to quicken. She backed out of the email and handed the phone to Ronan.
"No," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She had found something much worse.
Ronan
He stood in the foyer, his glossy black dress shoes tapping nervously on the wood floor. His tuxedo was impeccable, but his mind was in disarray. Tucking his hands into his black tuxedo pants pockets, he paced back and forth, the rhythmic sound of his steps the only thing grounding him.
The last twenty-four hours had been like a dream. Being with Eden had been more than he could have ever imagined, and now it seemed that something had unfurled inside him, and there was no longer a way to hide his feelings. He could tell his love was obvious in the way he touched her, the way he looked at her. And from the way she looked back at him, he thought maybe she felt the same. He wasn’t sure if she fully realized how deep her feelings ran, but he couldn’t help but hope that she did.
The steady echo of her heels on the hardwood floor broke through his thoughts, and he turned to see her approaching. She appeared in front of him, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun reflected through the window. Time stood still as he gazed upon the woman he adored, the woman he was utterly and hopelessly in love with.
She wore a rich red dress that clung to her like a second skin, made of heavy maroon satin fabric that subtly reflected light. The dress's bodice was asymmetric, with an off-the-shoulder design and a single shoulder strap. The rigid corset hugged her curves, accentuating her hourglass figure. The dress had a high leg slit that started just above her knee and extended upward, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her toned leg with every step she took. A matching pair of red heels added to her height.
Her hair cascaded in loose chestnut waves over her shoulder. Subtle smoky eyeshadow brushed over her eyelids with eyeliner that framed her eyes. Her long, dark lashes fluttered softly like butterfly wings. Her lips, painted a dark blood red, turned up in a smirk. Those jewel-blue eyes sparkling with mischief are what held his attention.
"Wow, you are a goddess among mortals," he murmured, kissing her cheek and pulling her closer. "It feels unreal, like I'm dreaming, because I can't believe someone like you is actually here with me," he whispered in her ear, his hand resting on the hard vertical boning of the bodice of her gown.
"You are gorgeous," she replied, her fingers gently caressing his cheeks. Her eyes lingered on his tuxedo-clad form, trailing down his body. "Perfect, actually."
No, he wasn’t perfect—not by a long shot. But to him, Eden was perfect in every way. Somehow, she seemed tailor-made for him, as if by some mysterious design. She made him feel valued and cherished, grateful for life in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. She had opened his eyes to the beauty he had overlooked for far too long.
The sound of the doorbell rang in the room, signaling the arrival of the limousine driver who would chauffeur them to the award show. Eden reluctantly removed her fingers from his face and walked toward the front door together. A sleek black limousine waited for them in her driveway. Ronan held the door open for Eden, and she touched his chest gently as she entered.
Ronan followed behind her, settling beside her on the long leather bench. As the limousine started driving to the award show venue, Ronan's thoughts revolved around the strict instructions they'd received from BNN. No interaction was allowed between them. Separate entrances and no joint interviews. It felt like an impossible challenge for him when all he craved was to be by Eden's side, feel her presence, and touch her. Weeks of longing had culminated in this moment, yet people who clearly didn't understand anything about their relationship forbade him from being with her.
Ronan intertwined his fingers with Eden's delicate ones. He glanced at her with a smile, and she quickly stuck her tongue out at him.
"Keep that tongue in your mouth, or I might use it," Ronan's voice was a low rumble against Eden's ear as he chided her, his warm lips brushing the shell of her ear. She leaned up, placing her hands against his face as she whispered, "Don't threaten me with a good time." She leaned in closer, sinking her teeth teasingly into his lower lip. A grin curled at the corners of Ronan's mouth. Ronan turned his head and made sure the privacy partition was up.
"Naughty girl," he tsked, his fingers brushed along her thigh, sliding gently between the slit of her dress. In one smooth motion, he pulled her leg over his lap, their bodies pressing closer together. "I'll have to punish you later," he murmured gruffly, delivering a sharp slap to her ass through the silky satin fabric of her dress. His hand tingled slightly from the contact, and he gently massaged the spot he'd just spanked. Eden gasped quietly at the sensation, her fingers digging into his tux-covered shoulders.
"You like that?" he breathed, his voice husky with desire. His words brushed against Eden's ear, causing her to tremble slightly.
"I bet you're all wet for me," he continued, his lips trailing down her neck. He felt her pulse quicken under his lips, its rhythm that matched his own racing heartbeat. His hands roamed down her silk-clad body, determined to memorize every curve. Now that he could touch her, he couldn't stop, refused to stop. Distance felt like the worst punishment.
"Why don't you find out?" Eden whispered, her eyes locked onto his under her long, dark eyelashes. The intensity of his emotions, the all-consuming nature of his desire, felt like a force beyond his control. His fingers trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the luxurious fabric of her gown. The cool satin glided against the back of his hand, leading him to bare, slick flesh beneath. He groaned at the sensation, his dick straining ridiculously hard in his pants.
"No panties?" he gritted out, his molars grinding together as he discovered her bare beneath the dress. He buried his face in her temple, inhaling her soft hair and addictive perfume. How on earth was he supposed to endure hours at an award show knowing that she was bare and dripping under that gown?
"Nope," Eden confirmed, her panting breaths matching the rhythm of her hips as she rubbed herself against his eager fingers. Ronan felt like he might lose consciousness from the sheer intensity of it all, as if every drop of blood in his body had rushed southward, leaving his brain starved of oxygen.
His fingers danced over her slick folds, feeling her heat and wetness. He bit down on her neck as his fingers found her clit. She arched into his touch, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. He slowly increased the pressure, and a small moan escaped her as her body shuddered. Her moans, soft and needy, were driving him insane. Her hips bucked against his hand, her body responding to his every move.
She stared directly at him as he slid two fingers inside her. Her sapphire eyes locked onto his, filled with a mix of desire and desperation. She tightened around his fingers, trying to keep him there, her sounds growing louder and more desperate. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and her nails dug into his shoulders. The feel of her, the sound of her, was almost too much to bear. Her muscles clenched around him as if she never wanted him to stop, as if the world outside the limo had ceased to exist.
He increased his tempo, feeling her tensing beneath his touch. Her moans turned into a gasp as she ground against his hand, her muscles pulsing around his fingers as she came. The sensation of her climax, the way her body convulsed and squeezed his fingers, sent a surge of satisfaction through him.
He watched her, mesmerized by the look of ecstasy on her face, the flush of her skin, and the way her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her lips parted as she gasped his name, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, lost in pleasure. Her nails dug into the fabric of his tuxedo as she rode out her orgasm.
Her body relaxed into his, the aftershocks of her climax still sending tremors through her. Her eyes opened slowly, a dazed, satisfied smile playing on her lips.
The limousine rolled to a stop, and Ronan caught glimpses of camera flashes piercing through the tinted privacy windows. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand beneath her dress, his eyes locked onto hers. He ran his mouth over each of his slick fingers, savoring the lingering taste.
"Delicious," Ronan hummed, looking deep into Eden's eyes. Her gaze was intense, her blood-red lips slightly parted, and her eyes gleamed with a glossy sheen.
"You're an absolute menace," she whispered huskily, her voice laden with desire, her legs subtly pressing together.
"Only for you," he whispered, planting a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek. "Just know I am with you out there." His words felt like a promise, something that mattered more than the flashing cameras and all the noise around them.
Ronan eased away from her, moving to the far side of the bench so the crowd wouldn’t spot him when Eden made her exit. Eden's chest rose and fell rapidly as she reached for a bottle of popped champagne, taking a small, steadying sip. She placed the bottle back in its ice bucket, her hands still trembling slightly.
Eden composed herself, smoothing down her dress and running her fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Ronan's one last time before stepping out. Her signature smirk found its place on her lips, and with a confident pull of the limo's handle, she pushed open the door.
Her entrance unleashed a flurry of blinding lights and a chorus of voices clamoring for her attention, shouting, "Eden! Eden!" in an attempt to draw her focus. With a subtle tilt of her head, she winked at Ronan before stepping through the doorway.
He watched her through the limo's tinted windows, Eden effortlessly commanding the cameras' attention. She easily struck graceful poses, drawing hearty laughter from the photographers with whatever she had said. Her magnetic presence and charm were undeniable, turning every camera within a thirty-mile radius.
The photographers stumbled over each other to get the perfect shot. She was an absolute superstar, and witnessing this side of her was eye-opening to him. While he had seen her get noticed when they went out in public before, this was something else entirely. She was a sensation, people vying for her attention, willingly falling over themselves for just a fleeting glimpse of her.
He knew he wasn’t the only one wanting to be close to her, and while it didn’t exactly bother him, it did leave him feeling a little uneasy. She was on a pedestal far beyond his reach, a star in the night sky, and he couldn't help but feel that she deserved more than the man lurking in the shadows. His feelings for Eden were a tempest, wild and unpredictable. She was a force that could consume him entirely.
He couldn’t help but wonder if she might turn on him, like a praying mantis snapping off its mate’s head. Strangely, he thought that might hurt less than living in a world where she was there, just out of reach, forever. The thought of losing her, of not being enough for her, was in the back of his mind. She deserved everything—the world, the stars, the universe—and he was just a man, flawed in so many ways.
Eden turned one last time, her eyes looking at the blacked-out windows of the limo. He knew she couldn't see him, but he saw the same fire reflected in her eyes, the same longing and intensity that mirrored his own, and it sent a fire in his blood.
As the limousine slowly made its way around the block, delaying Ronan’s entrance to the awards show, irritation simmered in his veins. The ridiculous lengths they had to go to just to avoid being seen together felt absurd. The measures they took to keep their connection hidden from prying eyes almost made him laugh.
The city lights blurred past the windows, and each loop around the block only added to his annoyance. It wasn’t just the physical distance; it was the emotional weight of keeping what they had a secret. The sneaking around, the constant need to hide—it all felt so trivial compared to how deeply he felt for her.
Finally, the limo stopped in front of the venue. Ronan stepped out of the limo, smoothing down his tuxedo and taking a deep breath. He straightened his posture, masking the irritation beneath a practiced facade. The cameras turned to him, and he put on a polite smile, navigating through the flashing lights and shouted questions.
An immediate assault of camera flashes erupted, blinding his vision. "Ronan! Is it true you are dating Eden?" a voice called out from his left, and he inwardly cursed. Was this entire evening going to be a relentless game of dodging questions about Eden? BNN had sent him a carefully curated list of corporate-approved responses to any questions related to Eden.
"We are just friends. Let's focus on the upcoming documentary, shall we?" or "We have a respectful and supportive working relationship. We maintain clear boundaries to ensure our professional effectiveness." It was such a crock of shit, but it would keep his employer happy. The temptation to grab a microphone and declare his love for Eden to the entire world flickered briefly in his mind, but he knew that probably wouldn’t end well.
He took a deep breath, forced a smile, and turned towards the source of the question. "Eden and I have a great professional relationship," he replied smoothly, parroting the rehearsed lines. "We're both excited about the documentary and the important story it will tell."
The reporter seemed momentarily satisfied, moving on to ask about his work and the evening's events. Ronan navigated the sea of questions with practiced ease, but his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of Eden. Each query about their relationship felt like a stab, a reminder of the distance they had to maintain in public.
He tugged at the tailored tuxedo, adjusting the sleeves with a hint of irritation. He reluctantly posed for a few pictures, loathing this part of his career. These events, with their artificial glamor and blaring spotlight, bored him to his core.
Ronan made his way down the carpet, the swarm of TV reporters descending upon him like a pack of hungry wolves. It was a frenzy, each reporter struggling for the prime spot to get their questions through. The spotlights bore down on him, momentarily blinding him.
He couldn't risk a single misstep. He knew that it could jeopardize his career and his relationship with Eden. So his focus remained fixed straight ahead, he offered polite nods and smiles at all the right cues. He answered all the questions appropriately, deflecting questions about his relationship with Eden and steering the interview towards the documentary.
Beneath the polished exterior, he was lost in the maze of his own emotions. He knew catching even a glimpse of her in that mesmerizing gown might unleash emotions he couldn't hide. Just thinking about her made his hands involuntarily ball into fists, his knuckles white as they clenched at his sides to keep his emotions in check.
As if on cue, he heard her. Chills ran up his body as he heard Eden's laugh. The thought of her dominated every waking moment. It was like an invisible thread tethered his thoughts to her, and there was no escape from its relentless pull. His preoccupation with her had taken hold, growing like ivy over the walls of his sanity.
He glanced to the side and spotted her ahead on the red carpet, her head thrown back in laughter at something a reporter had said. It was clear as day what the reporter’s intentions were. His leering gaze was fixated on Eden's body, his eyes lingering shamelessly, especially on her cleavage. The bastard was practically drooling as his grubby hand tried to grip her waist. Ronan nearly growled at the sight, a dangerous feeling boiling in his veins. He felt an almost feral urge to stride over there and break all five of those fingers that had touched her. Anger consumed him, not directed toward her but rather fueled by the circumstances that caused them to be apart.
BNN's expectations be damned. He should be the one at Eden's side, the one wrapping her in his arms. He wanted the world to know that they were together, that he was hers.
"Ronan!" A voice called from his left, and he quickly redirected his gaze ahead. He silently scolded himself, wondering how long he'd been lost in thought. He hoped it wasn't glaringly obvious to anyone nearby that he had been staring at the person he was supposed to be ignoring.
"I was just asking you how interviewing Eden was," a coyling voice said, thrusting a camera directly in his face. He was half tempted to karate chop the lens, but he would never injure a poor, defenseless 12-35mm f/2.8 camera lens.
"It was great. Will you excuse me?" Ronan replied with a polite smile, his tone pleasant but somewhat distant. He gave a slight nod, signaling the end of the conversation. With that, he moved away from the camera and began striding purposefully toward the end of the red carpet.
As he navigated through the maze of reporters and photographers, Ronan finally spotted Eden making her way toward the final stretch of the carpet leading to the ceremony. As he drew closer to her, his hand brushed against her side so fleetingly that it could have easily gone unnoticed. Simultaneously, he leaned in close, his lips barely grazing her ear as he uttered, "Come here." The words were low and laced with secrecy, making Eden shudder ever so slightly in response.
He scanned the area and found a secluded corner with an unmarked door. He strode to the door and pulled it open. The small room's walls were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves and hooks to organize various cleaning items. A large sink was tucked in the corner of the room. Eden cast a curious glance at the closet, its interior dimly lit. Her eyes scanned his face, and she quirked an eyebrow at him. There must have been something in Ronan's expression because she stepped decisively into the room ahead of him without any questions.
His steps echoed in the tight space as he followed her into the closet. With a push, the door thudded closed, and the subtle click of the lock followed as he flipped the latch. Eden, leaning casually against the closet wall, regarded him with an arched eyebrow, her eyes filled with a challenge that further fired his determination.
The closet seemed to close in on them, their bodies inches apart. A primal urge surged within him, compelling him to lean in closer. He gently placed his hands on the wall and framed her face between them. Their eyes locked, and Eden swallowed hard, giving away her nervousness. She subtly shifted her head against the wall's cool surface.
"Every moment away from you is torture," he rasped, his voice gruff. "I want the world to see us together. I don't want to hide while some bastard lays his hands on you."
"Are you jealous, Ronan?" she whispered, a sly smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, still perfectly painted in a deep shade of burgundy. Her dark ocean-blue eyes fluttered with feigned innocence, challenging him.
Damn right, he was, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of seeing just how deep it ran—the way his stomach twisted at the idea of someone else touching her like he did. The thought of her soft gasps, her breathy moans meant for anyone else made his skin crawl.
"Do you need a reminder of whose fingers were inside you in the limo on the way here?" he murmured, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, his breath brushing against her lips. His words hung heavy in the space between them, a challenge waiting for her to rise to it. Her eyes darted to his mouth, and without hesitation, she gripped the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as she pressed her lips firmly against his, claiming him in return.
He lost himself in the sensation of her satin dress beneath his fingertips, the intoxicating scent of her perfume, and her breathy moans as she clung to him. Her arms reached up to grab his neck, her hands dragging him closer to her. His hands roamed over the soft fabric, feeling the heat of her skin beneath the dress, and he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Her breath hitched as his fingers traced the curve of her spine, and she responded with an intensity that matched his own.
Her lips parted slightly, allowing him to explore her mouth more thoroughly. She tasted like champagne and something sweetly addictive, and each kiss left him wanting more. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as she arched her body against his. Every touch, every taste, set his body ablaze with desire. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right.
"You were made for me, baby," he whispered against her lips, his eyes closed. In his mind, this could be loosely translated as " I love you." His hands trembled as he tightened them around her waist.
Suddenly, a loud knock resonated through the room, and the doorknob began to jiggle. Ronan swiftly separated their bodies, and her wide-eyed gaze looked up at him. A few seconds dragged on, and just as abruptly as it had begun, the movement stopped.
"Get out while you still can," Ronan said to her. She nodded her head and headed towards the door. She unlocked and opened the door. A swarm of voices blasted into the room, and cameras flashed in the periphery. She cast a quick glance; her features were shadowed by the partially open door. The door clicked behind her.
"Close call," Ronan mumbled to himself as he strode toward the exit. He made his way to the door and stepped out into the chaos. His mind was still reeling from the kiss, and a half-smile involuntarily tugged at the corners of his lips.
Unconsciously, his fingers found their way to his lips, tracing the spot where Eden's mouth had met his. When he pulled back his fingers, he saw a faint, lingering trace of red lipstick on his fingertips. Walking briskly, he continued to rub his lips.
Shit , he should have checked Eden's makeup before she left the closet. He walked further into the lobby, his eyes scanning the crowd in search of Eden's familiar form, but she was nowhere to be seen. A production assistant swept him away, and the thought of lingering lipstick smear was forgotten.