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The Millionaire's Proposal
Trish Wylie


Of all the cities in all the world, he chose Paris to propose. Ronan O’Keefe has everything money can buy. He’d give it all up in an instant to keep the one thing he’s losing. The jetsetting playboy is slowly being robbed of his sight.Kerry Doyle is alone in New York and not feeling quite so brave about her trip of a lifetime. Luckily, a handsome millionaire has come to her rescue… What is he doing? Escorting beautiful, bubbly Kerry round the world wasn’t part of Ronan’s plan.Yet by the time they get to Paris he doesn’t want to let her go. His secret is casting its shadow, but Kerry has lit up his life…A Bride for All Seasons Swept off her feet…by an autumn proposal!







‘Close your eyes for me,’ she whispered, her voice seductivelylow and filled with emotion. ‘Canyou still see me?’

He had to clear his throat to speak. ‘I can always see you. I told you that once before.’

Since he’d met her, she was all he could see—in the daylight, when he couldn’t stop looking at her, and when he was in the darkness, whether awake or on the fringes of sleep. She was all he saw.

He lifted one of her hands and set it flat against his chest, covering it with his own. ‘I see you with this. Your hair is a really deep chestnut, and it does this sexy, curly thing all around your face. Your eyes remind me of autumn. And you’re smiling that way that makes it look like you’re lit up from inside. I see you.’


Trish Wylie tried various careers before eventually fulfilling her dream of writing. Years spent working in the music industry, in promotions, and teaching little kids about ponies gave her plenty of opportunity to study life and the people around her. Which, in Trish’s opinion, is a pretty good study course for writing! Living in Ireland, Trish balances her time between writing and horses. If you get to spend your days doing things you love, then she thinks that’s not doing too badly. You can contact Trish at www.trishwylie.com

Praise for Trish Wylie…

‘Trish Wylie’s BRIDE OF THE EMERALD ISLE

is charming, witty, and has a beautiful, unusual setting.

It also has fantastic characters—particularly the

wounded but wonderful Garrett.’

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

Trish also writes for Modern Heat™…

‘WHITE-HOT is absolutely wonderful!

Trish Wylie’s spellbinding tale will tickle your funny

bone and tug at your heartstrings. Featuring characters

which leap off the pages, realistic dialogue, sweet

romance, sizzling sex scenes, electrifying sexual

tension and dramatic emotional intensity,

WHITE-HOT! is feel-good romance at its finest!’

—Cataromance.com



Dear Reader

A good friend of mine reminded me of something important this year—to be grateful for the good stuff when it’s here. How many of us dedicate the same amount of time to appreciating the good things as we do focussing on the bad? Maybe it’s because the bad can be so very overwhelming, and over the years life simply wears us down. Yet it’s the good stuff that makes the difference, don’t you think?

We need to laugh as often as possible, take a deep breath of air to remind us we’re alive, look around us and see the beauty in things, spend time doing what makes us happy. Most of all we need never to get so old or so jaded that we stop dreaming or believing in moments of magic.

One of the things I love the absolute most about writing and reading romance is the fact it shows we all still believe in love in the twenty-first century. We may have busier lives, might be more cynical, but people still reach out for love in all its forms: in friends, in family, in a man and a woman who can make it through the rough times because life is richer together than it is apart. That’s a little bit of magic right there.

So if there’s one thing you bring with you out of Ronan and Kerry’s story I hope it’s a little reminder to make the most of the good stuff and any moment of magic that comes your way. Grab hold of it, celebrate it, savour it, and that way even in times of darkness you’ll still be able to see the light. Just like Ronan will with Kerry by his side.

Hs & Ks

Trish




THE MILLIONAIRE’S PROPOSAL


BY

TRISH WYLIE




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


CHAPTER ONE

KERRY DOYLE liked to consider herself a fairly patient woman. After all, she’d waited years to make her dream trip; researched, planned, scheduled everything to the nth degree. But if the man in the seat next to her poked her with his elbow one more time she thought she just might scream. She’d specifically allowed extra money for better seats on the longer flights for the added personal space that came with them. And it was a seven-hour flight from Dublin to New York—including the change at Shannon—one that was going to feel like twice that in the longer leg they were currently on if he didn’t quit it soon.

And he’d shown so much promise in the ‘scenery’ department before he sat down too…

He poked her again, causing Kerry to let a sigh escape. It wasn’t much of a poke—none of them had been—but even so…

‘Sorry.’

It was a step in the right direction. ‘Maybe if you sat a little more to the left?’

He turned in his seat, smiling at her with the kind of smile that probably worked wonders with the majority of women no matter how much he irritated them first. ‘The stewardess already got me twice with the trolley. I’m not exactly built for these wee seats.’

All right, he had a point there. She hadn’t been able to help noticing him when he got on the plane, especially when towering over her to place his bag in the overhead compartment. And he wasn’t just scenic, he was tall—very tall. Not that she’d be able to guess accurately until she stood up and compared him to her own five seven, but if she had to hazard a guess she’d say he was well and truly over six feet tall. Add that to broad shoulders, a wide chest and muscled upper arms and even the fact that the rest of him seemed fairly lean wasn’t going to help him fit into the space the airline had allocated, was it?

So she’d allow him that. She’d even sympathize a little, inwardly. ‘No, you’re not—but I’m just getting a little concerned about attempting to take a drink later in the flight if you bump me at the wrong time.’

It might also affect her choice of what she asked the stewardess for—after all, coffee and tea left stains. And the wardrobe she had with her had to last a long time. As always with Kerry it came down to practicalities—it was just the way her mind worked.

She accompanied her words with a polite smile in an attempt not to make an adversary for the rest of the flight, and then found herself suddenly distracted from further coherent thought by the way he examined her face before he replied.

Nice eyes. In fact he had great eyes. A pale blue made even paler when framed with thick dark lashes, which in turn highlighted the dark pools of his irises. Then there were shards of darker blue and white threaded through the paler blue— as if an artist’s watercolour brush had been dipped into a glass of water and the colour hadn’t quite mixed in yet. It was an unusual combination, and most definitely the kind of eyes a girl wouldn’t forget in a hurry…

Kerry almost sighed again. For different reasons…

‘Maybe we should set up some kind of a code?’

She dragged her gaze from his eyes long enough to note the hint of a smile on his devilishly sensual mouth. Well, having a sense of humour could only help with their predicament, so she allowed herself to smile a larger smile as she replied.

‘Like me saying “Danger Will Robinson: drink approaching”?’ And if he got that obscure reference to her childhood interest in truly bad nineteen sixties’ science fiction she might have to love him a little.

‘Lost In Space, right?’

Wow, he got it. She nodded, smiling a little brighter.

‘Well, that would do it, all right. Or you could just dig me in the ribs every time I do it to you so I get a reminder about space of the personal variety.’

‘That’s certainly tempting.’ Kerry’s eyes narrowed as she pondered the ‘temptation’ involved in flirting with a complete stranger while travelling on the first leg of her grand adventure. Mind you, he was temptation personified—so who could really blame her? And even if he was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt just a shade or two darker than his sensational eyes, he had managed to afford to pay for better seating. That had to be a good sign.

Serial killers didn’t travel in the good seats, she reckoned. Now kidnappers, well, possibly— the money was probably better…

His chin dropped and he leaned a little closer, employing a large hand to lift one side of her open book so he could read the cover, a hint of a smile hovering on the corners of his mesmerizing mouth.

‘Enjoying the guidebook?’

Kerry turned it over on her tray table, grateful for the distraction, and nodding as she answered. ‘So far—there’s probably more detail in here than I need, though. I’ve read tonnes of them these last few months and this was one of the better ones.’

His dark brows quirked a minuscule amount when she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. ‘More detail in what way?’

‘Well, there’s about a gazillion places listed in the back to begin with. And having never been there it’s tough to decide what to see and what not when you’re on a timescale, y’know?’ Her gaze had locked fully with his again while she answered and a weird quiver of what almost felt like cold ran up her spine, goose-bumps appearing on her arms.

And when she felt like that it was normally an indication that she was clueing in on something— so what was it this time? Apart from the obvious feminine awareness of an incredibly good- looking male, that was.

She searched his face to see if she could figure it out. And even that was disconcerting. It was the proximity, she supposed. There was a certain intimacy to being seated beside someone on a plane. So the fact she was so aware of his breathing, the musky male undertone of his scent, the dark hint of stubble on his jaw, and each flicker of his thick lashes, was a completely natural reaction.

When she studied him a little longer than was probably considered polite, he turned his upper body in the seat and folded his arms across his broad chest.

‘So how would you change it to make it more useful to you, then?’

What? Oh, yes, they’d been making polite conversation about the book, hadn’t they? Kerry took a deep breath and looked back down at it, shaking her head a little at her uncharacteristic lack of being able to think straight. ‘I dunno. Graded the chapters, maybe?’

‘What way?’

‘Length of stay? If you have two days you shouldn’t miss this and that, a week you should try and see—that kind of thing.’

When she didn’t get a reply she looked back up at him to discover a view of his profile, dark brows creased downwards in thought. He really was fascinating to look at, wasn’t he? Not shaving-commercial good-looking, but certainly rugged enough to advertise outdoor wear or heavy duty Jeeps or maybe even activity holidays. He looked like a man’s man and that meant he was automatically a woman’s man too, didn’t it? After all, there was something about a very male man that tugged at something deep inside a woman.

She was studying the short cropped dark chocolate of his hair when he snapped her out of her reverie…

‘A list of things to pack for each length of trip might be useful too. Maybe a small section at the end of each chapter for whether you’re a classical sightseer type or an adventurer or a party-goer or if you have kids along…that kind of thing…’

Kerry smiled indulgently as he mumbled to the back of the seat in front of him. ‘Planning on rewriting the book now, are we?’

When he turned to look at her a smile danced in his eyes and she found herself mesmerized all over again before he hummed beneath his breath and answered with a softly spoken, ‘Maybe.’

Unfolding his arms, he extended a large hand towards her. ‘Ronan O’Keefe. And whatever you want to drink should really be on me to say thanks for buying a copy of my book. But as drinks are included I’ll just have to promise not to make you spill anything.’

Kerry gaped, swiftly checked the name on the cover of the book, and then, rolling her eyes before shaking his hand, ‘Just as well I didn’t say anything too insulting about it, really, isn’t it?’

And it explained the something she’d felt too. It’d been a forewarning of sorts, hadn’t it?

Her hand enfolded firmly in the warmth of his long fingers, he held on just a little too long while fixing her gaze with his as he answered with a rumbling, ‘Yes, it is.’

The warmth transferred to her smaller hand. He had the kind of firm handshake her father would have approved of and respected. But it wasn’t quite respect Kerry was feeling. She even had to clear her throat before speaking.

‘Would you have let on who you were if I had?’

‘After a while.’

And the continuing sparkle in his eyes told her he’d have had fun with it too. ‘Happened before, I take it?’

‘Occupational hazard when travelling.’ He inclined his head, ‘I’m also incredibly good at recommending them to people in airport bookstores when I see them pick one up.’

When he added a lazy wink, Kerry couldn’t help but laugh. Oh, he was a bit of a charmer, this one, wasn’t he? Full of good old-fashioned Blarney, her nana would say with a throaty chuckle. He probably spent half his life chatting up women on planes, she wasn’t anything special, which reminded her—it really was time she let go of his hand.

Gently extricating it, and immediately feeling the loss of warmth in contrast to the cool air from the plane’s air-conditioning, she lifted her chin and challenged him with an upward arch of one brow,

‘And how do I know you are who you say you are?’

‘You could take my word for it?’

She turned her hand palm up and waggled her fingers, ‘I might need to see your passport to be sure.’

‘I might have a pen name.’

‘Do you?’

‘No.’

Her fingers waggled again.

‘Not very trusting, are you?’ He shook his head, working hard at keeping the smile twitching his mouth in check. ‘Lesson one, by the way, would be: never give up your passport to a stranger when travelling alone.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘How do you know I’m travelling alone?’

‘In my experience, people who travel together tend to sit together on planes.’

Good point. ‘Well, it’s not like I can grab your passport, climb over you and escape with it at twenty-seven thousand feet up, is it?’

‘True—’ he leaned a little closer and lowered his voice to a deliciously deep rumble ‘—though the climbing-over-me part might be fun to watch. No one’s ever tried that before—brings a whole new meaning to the term “in-flight entertainment”.’

When she heard the click of his seat belt and he leaned closer still, she automatically leaned back towards the window to make room for him. Not that it wasn’t tempting to just stay where she was and ‘sit’ her ground, but this kind of dalliance was obviously something he was well practised at—and, Kerry being Kerry, she called him on it.

‘Do you flirt with every woman you meet on a plane?’

Shooting her a challenging quirk of his brows as he reached behind him, he replied with, ‘Would make for lots of short relationships, don’t you think?’

‘Another occupational hazard, perchance?’

‘Possibly.’

The contortions eventually wielded a well-worn passport he waved back in front of her face as he got comfy again. ‘I need this back. So be warned—I’ll wrestle you for it if I have to.’

‘Duly noted.’ She reached for it, but Ronan moved it just out of her reach.

‘Let’s make a fair exchange.’

‘Oh-h-h,’ Kerry laughed throatily, ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Picture that bad?’

‘Are you suggesting I don’t photograph well?’

He examined her face for a moment, the same low intimacy returning to his voice. ‘I doubt it.’

Kerry felt warmth building on her cheeks, which she’d always thought for a woman her age was just plain old sad. That very thought then bringing her in a straight line to her excuse.

‘Didn’t anyone tell you not to ask a lady her age?’

He frowned in amused confusion, tapping his passport off the knuckles of his hand. ‘And when did I do that?’

‘My date of birth is in my passport.’

‘Ah…’

‘And anyway, you have an aisle seat—you could make a faster getaway. Someone told me recently that giving your passport to a stranger is a bad idea when travelling alone.’

There was a low chuckle of very male laughter, the sound making her smile at him again. Should she have to hazard a guess, Kerry would say that the ‘flirting with women on planes’ thing was pretty successful for him. Maybe the short relationships suited his lifestyle?

‘Do I get a name?’

She spoke slowly, ‘You already have a name, Ronan.’

‘Your name.’

‘We’ll see…’ She waggled her fingers again.

His stunning eyes narrowed briefly, the passport still tapping against his large hand. ‘I’ll swap you a look at my passport for your name.’

‘Once I’ve confirmed you are who you say you are, I’ll reveal my secret identity—how does that sound?’

‘That—’ he smiled again, forcing another smile from her in response before he added ‘—is a deal.’

When her fingers closed around the end of the proffered passport he held on, waiting for her lashes to lift before adding, ‘And I’m not the only one capable of a little flirting on a plane, am I?’

Tugging it free, she informed him with a haughty lift of her nose, ‘You obviously bring out my dark side.’

‘Not sure I’d agree with that.’

Kerry shook her head, dropping her chin to flip through the passport and discovering page after page of stamps from varying countries around the globe. ‘Have you really been to all these places?’

‘Nah, I make my own stamps—it’s a hobby of mine.’ He chuckled again when she glared at him. ‘It’s easier to write a travel guide for a country if you’ve been there, I find. I tried it from home but no one ever came to visit my kitchen after I wrote the guide for there—which is a shame really,’ cos I had some great package deals going.’

Kerry continued reading all the country names, trying to imagine what it must have been like to have visited so many places and seen so many things. It had to have made for an exciting life; he’d make one heck of a dinner guest. And it was yet another thing she could find attractive about him, because even if their ‘relationship’ was only going to last for the duration of the flight, she had to admit he was pretty irresistible on many levels—full of charm, in possession of a fully working sense of humour, capable of giving as good as he got, sexy as sin…a walking fountain of knowledge when it came to travelling…

Be silly not to take advantage of the latter, really.

When she found the photograph page she laughed softly. ‘Oh, dear—now that’s bad.’

Ronan leaned in to look over her shoulder, his upper arm pressed against her shoulder. ‘Just needs a row of numbers across the bottom, doesn’t it? And a couple of shots from either side to make up the set.’

Kerry turned her face towards his, her gaze searching his eyes back and forth while she breathed in deep breaths of his scent. ‘Voice of experience?’

His smile was slow and oozing with blatantly male sexuality, the brush of thick lashes against tanned skin deliberately slow, she was certain. And when he spoke it was with that deep, rumbling, intimate tone again, the air between them seeming to vibrate and—well—sizzle a little, frankly.

‘Not in that area, no,’ he stage-whispered, ‘but I did get detention after school on a pretty regular basis. Just don’t tell anyone in case it affects my ability to get into some countries, okay?’

‘Your secret’s safe with me.’

When she answered in an equally low stage whisper, her gaze tangled with his again, a shiver of something running up her spine, radiating outwards, leaving her skin tingling and a strange tightness in her chest.

What was that? She’d never been so very aware of a man on such a cellular level before and it was—a little unsettling, actually.

‘Could I ask you to put your tray down, please, sir?’

The voice of a stewardess broke the charged silence, forcing Ronan back into his allocated space before he lowered his tray, a smile aimed up at the pretty blonde as she served him his meal. He wasn’t the least bit tempted to flirt with her, he noticed, not the way he had with the woman beside him. It was something unusual for him— not that he hadn’t been known to make small talk with someone on a long-haul flight if they hadn’t handed out the usual ‘leave me alone’ signals of burying their nose in a paperback or plugging in headphones.

But she was—intriguing, he supposed was the right word. What was someone like her doing travelling alone? No rings anywhere, he’d noted, so it would be a boyfriend rather than husband meeting her in New York if there was one. But something told him there wasn’t either one or she wouldn’t be flirting back with him the way she was. Women who blushed as prettily as she had weren’t players in that league, were they?

Business trip, then—visiting friends maybe.

Only one way to find out, so once they had their meals in front of them he turned his head to look at her again. ‘What takes you to the Big Apple?’

She handed him his passport, which he tucked between his thighs without removing his gaze from her face. She should be well used to men looking at her, as pretty as she was with gleaming chestnut hair waving around her fine features and the full mouth with a constant upward curve suggesting she smiled more often than not.

‘It’s on my fantasy list.’

It took considerable effort to keep a strangled edge out of his voice. ‘Your what?’

Because his furtive imagination had just gone straight to Sinville with that one.

‘Kind of like fantasy football only with destinations instead of players.’ She nodded, tucking a strand of richly coloured hair behind her ear so he could see a small earring dangling against the skin of her neck as she leaned forward to examine what was on her tray—the simple sight intensely sensual. ‘I’ve spent so long burying myself in work that this trip is made up entirely of places off the top of the list.’

Ronan watched as she flashed him a sideways glance and a small smile that warmed the hints of russet in her large brown eyes. ‘I’m going round the world.’

And the husky sense of satisfaction in her voice was a pleasure to his ears. ‘Alone?’

‘Now, if you were me would you answer that question when a stranger asked it?’

‘No.’

She nodded again, ripping the plastic off her utensils. ‘There you go, then.’

‘So are you?’

She turned her shoulders and fixed him with a steady ‘straight in the eye’ gaze. ‘Now, Mr O’Keefe—’

‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ He leaned a little closer— something he’d been doing a lot of the last few minutes. ‘I was Ronan five minutes ago—and you owe me a name.’

‘That was before you threatened me with a knife.’

When she dipped her chin in the direction of his hand he looked down, then back. ‘It’s a three- inch plastic knife—I’d say you’re safe from any lasting harm, wouldn’t you?’

When she continued to challenge him with her steady gaze and a minuscule quirk of her perfectly arched brows he took a deep breath and set the utensils down, replacing them with a spoon and the dessert tub, which he automatically ripped the cover off.

Her eyes widened. ‘You’re eating dessert first?’

‘Yup,’ he answered with his mouth full of a surprisingly good lemon cheesecake, mentally making a note of it in association with the airline. ‘Why wait for the good stuff? Life’s too short.’

‘That’s profound. But I think you’ll find it has more to do with the savoury-before-sweet rule.’

There was a brief pause while Ronan studied her, cheesecake dissolving on his tongue. ‘There’s a rule?’

‘Yes, and for good reason.’

‘Never was one for following rules.’

‘I can believe that.’

Ronan sat a little taller, because he was quite proud of his reputation as a rule-breaker, as it happened. He’d never been one for accepting the going odds either. And he wasn’t that easily distracted.

‘Name.’

She laughed, the sound amazingly sexy in the intimate space between them, and Ronan had been on more planes than he could count on his fingers and toes combined and never once had he found himself wishing the flight could be a few hours longer than it actually was.

‘Does it matter? Not like you’ll ever see me again after this flight touches down.’

‘We made a deal.’ And as a rule-follower she wasn’t likely to go back on a deal, was she?

She ran the rosy tip of her tongue over her full lips, bringing Ronan’s gaze to her mouth as she formed the words.

‘It’s Kerry, Kerry Doyle.’

It suited her, was—right somehow. ‘Nice to meet you, Kerry, Kerry Doyle.’

And her mouth curled into an answering wide smile that showed straight teeth and mischievous dimples—oh, she was really something.

‘Funny guy.’

Trailing his gaze from her mouth to the warmth of her eyes, and then somewhat reluctantly for the first time in his life to focus on his dessert, he silently cleared his throat before digging a little deeper to satisfy his raging curiosity.

‘Tell me more about this fantasy list.’

‘Is it a good idea for a woman travelling alone to give her itinerary to a stranger on a plane?’

Actually he wasn’t entirely convinced that was the kind of fantasies he’d meant, his mouth curling into a lazy smile at the thought as he loaded his spoon. ‘We’ve just been introduced so technically we’re not strangers any more—just as well, too, seeing you’ve just confirmed you’re travelling alone.’

When a quick turn of his head afforded him a glimpse of a recriminating frown he grinned inwardly. ‘Don’t look a gift horse and all that. You have a bonafide destination expert literally at your fingertips—feel free to take advantage of me.’

He threw in another wink for good measure.

‘Oh, you just don’t quit, do you?’

‘Being helpful? Can’t say women list that as my most memorable quality, no.’

‘Flirting.’

‘Ah.’ It took considerable effort to hold the full- blown smile he could feel in his chest from making its way up onto his face. ‘Well, you do know they say it’s all about the individual’s interpretation.’

Kerry laughed a low, husky laugh. ‘You’re incorrigible.’

‘I’ve been told. Tell me about your trip, then.’

She did, over ‘dinner’, through coffee that didn’t get spilt thanks to the code they had in place, and she even produced a colour-coded itinerary Ronan found highly amusing as she explained it to him while they ignored the movie. It was as they began their descent into JFK that he explained to her the treasures that could be found if she didn’t limit herself to the usual sights that would swallow up great chunks of her time when she was stuck in huge lines of tourists all wanting to see the same things—Kerry scribbling notes into the margins of her neatly typed sheets of paper.

Her enthusiasm was palpable, watching the thoughts crossing her expressive eyes was addictive— and Ronan found himself regretting again the fact he hadn’t met her in Dublin on the first leg of the flight.

‘It must be amazing to spend your life seeing all the places you see.’

An innocuous statement, but the words twisted like a knife in his chest. ‘Yeah, it’s been great.’

Placing her itinerary with its brand new scribbled notes into a Ziploc bag, she leaned back against her seat and sighed, a small, contented smile on her mouth and a faraway look in her eyes as she turned her face towards his watchful gaze, her voice low.

‘I can’t imagine half the things you’ve seen— you’re incredibly lucky.’

Lucky was far from the mark, as it happened. But Ronan’s imagination was too busy deciding that, with both their heads against the headrests and their faces turned towards each other, it was too much as if they were lying side by side in a bed for him to descend into bitterness—his voice husky as a result of where his brain then took that mental image.

‘Have you got everything on your fantasy list covered or is there anything else I can help you with?’

She chuckled, letting the innuendo slide. ‘This trip is just the beginning. I’ve got almost three months to pack in as much as I can, so it’s a taster, if you like. Then if there’s anywhere I really enjoy I’ll try and spend more time there next time round.’

She had dozens more adventures to look forward to. And enthusiasm danced in her eyes, highlighting the hinted shades of russet and gold in amongst the brown—though his imagination was probably filling that in…

She really couldn’t be any more different from him if she tried, could she? But he managed to keep the envy out of his voice, just. ‘I can recommend some great guidebooks to help you catch up with me, if you like.’

Kerry laughed the soft laugh he found so enthralling. ‘I’ll just bet you can. Do you have one for the first-time traveller? You know—with all those tips about never confessing you’re travelling alone, or why not to give your name to strangers on planes and that one about the passport? They’re all very useful.’

‘And you ignored every single one of them—’ he couldn’t help smiling when she did ‘—though I’m glad you did ’cos, between you and me, this has been the shortest Atlantic crossing I’ve ever had.’

After only a moment’s hesitation she leaned a little closer to whisper, ‘You’re welcome.’

He couldn’t stop looking into her eyes. Searching each of them closely, with the sense of intimacy rising as he felt the soft wisp of her warm breath against his face. And the urge to kiss her was so strong when the cabin lights dimmed and his vision blurred that it was as physical a need to him as the one for oxygen.

He’d only have to lean just a little bit closer…

There was a jolt as the large plane touched down, a ripple of applause working its way through the cabin and making Kerry laugh again as she moved back and arched up to look over the seat in front of her.

‘Okay—is it unusual for a pilot to actually land the plane safely here?’

When the cabin lights flickered back on Ronan eventually dragged his gaze upwards from where he’d been attempting to fill his eyes with the sight of her lithe body arched against her seat belt.

‘It was a smooth landing.’ He shrugged. ‘Sometimes folks just think that merits a thank- you.’

‘I’ll remember that for next time.’

She had dozens of next times ahead of her, didn’t she? With an unaccustomed wave of angry bitterness, Ronan thought he should make sure and clap whenever he touched down in Dublin again—a kind of ‘thanks for the memories’ to all the pilots who’d got him from one place to the other in the last decade.

Kerry settled back in her seat, took a deep breath and asked, ‘How long are you in New York for?’

‘Why?’

The words came out in a rush. ‘I don’t suppose I can persuade you to play tour guide for a day?’

It wasn’t going to take much persuasion.


CHAPTER TWO

KAREN had to be losing her tiny mind.

Since when did she run around asking men she’d only just met to spend a day with her? Since never—that was when. It wasn’t that she was stuck in some old-fashioned notion that a woman didn’t have as much a right to ask a man out as the other way round, but it wasn’t something she made a habit of. And what did she really know about this guy beyond the fact he was disgustingly good-looking, great company and more than a little fascinating to her?

She swiped her clammy palms along the sides of her crisp white shorts and pushed her sunglasses up onto her head, squinting as she looked around the crowded street. If he stood her up that would be one way of getting out of it, she supposed. But the truth was she didn’t want him to stand her up—the idea of another day in his company having been sending a flutter of anticipation through her stomach since before she’d gone to sleep the night before. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that before seeing a man. Not that it was a date, because it wasn’t—she’d even offered to pay him for acting as her tour guide.

He’d laughed, mind you.

But it still wasn’t a date. It was a stolen day, a one-off, a way of marking her newfound freedom by doing something completely out of character…

Lord, but it was hot. She really hadn’t been prepared for how hot it was, or how heavy the air was, or how sticky and dishevelled she felt or how noisy and overwhelming New York was with the constant sound of car horns and the wail of sirens echoing from streets away or the number of people or—

Her breath catching when she saw him.

He was standing in the midst of all the people milling around in front of the Empire State Building and it was just plain daft that in that moment he was the only thing Kerry could see. It was simply that he was the only familiar face, was all. And, as much as she’d told herself she was fine with making such a large trip alone, the truth was some of the joy of her first night in New York had been tempered by the fact she had no one with her to turn to and share it with. Like the excitement of the first moment she saw the Manhattan skyline laid out in front of her, and it finally hit her that she was in New York!

She continued staring at Ronan, reasoning again that no one could really blame her—he was incredibly easy on the eyes. Standing with his feet spread, as if claiming the small piece of sidewalk underneath him, he had his hands on his lean hips while he slowly turned a circle, searching the crowd with a frown of concentration on his face. The bright sunlight made his short, spiking hair look lighter—a milk chocolate as opposed to the dark she’d thought it was on the plane—and he just looked so, so, well, he did.

Kerry raised a hand and waved it above her head.

But Ronan continued circling, so, feeling a little silly for waving like an idiot, she walked forwards, swiping her hands down her sides again as she got closer. ‘Hi there—do you by any chance know how to get to the Empire State Building?’

The lazy smile that slid onto his mouth brought an immediate answering smile to her lips. How pathetic was it she was glad to see him? And it didn’t bode too well for her conviction she could take her trip alone and still enjoy it just as much, did it?

‘You’re close, if it helps any.’

Stopping a foot away from him, she watched as his gaze travelled down her body all the way to her feet before rising faster than it had lowered. And she was surprised by how the simple glance suddenly made her feel warmer than she already was, every nerve ending tingling with awareness.

‘So are we starting the grand tour here?’

Ronan casually pushed his large hands into his jeans pockets, adopting the pose of a man extremely comfortable in his own skin. ‘Is there a queue all the way round the block?’

Kerry turned on her heel and surveyed the long line of people, sometimes three or four deep, stretching from the entrance until they disappeared around the corner; the thought of joining the end of a line that length in the sweltering heat was enough to draw a small groan from her lips.

‘Yes.’

‘Then no.’ He shot a glance at the bag resting on her hip, the strap slung diagonally across her body between her breasts. ‘I suppose you have the obligatory camera in there for pictures of all the sights?’

Kerry patted it with one hand, her chin rising with confidence. ‘And sun cream and a mini-fan and a bottle of water and a map and energy bars and a mobile phone and—’

Ronan smiled wryly, long fingers wrapping around her elbow to turn her before he started walking into the crowd. ‘Well at least if we get stranded in the desert we’ll survive.’

‘Are you making fun of the fact I like to be prepared for every eventuality, Mr O’Keefe?’

‘Possibly. But if I achieve nothing else today it’s my aim to sway you towards the merits of travelling light—I saw how much luggage you took off that carousel yesterday. And unless I’m very much mistaken, this is supposed to be a fun experience for you—not an endurance test.’

Kerry felt the skin on her elbow tingling beneath his hand, warmth travelling like an electric current up her arm, over her shoulder and downwards towards her breasts, disconcerting enough for her to feel the need to gently twist free of his touch before it worked its way anywhere else. Then she felt the need to lessen the small rejection with a sidewards glance and a pout of her lower lip.

‘I need all those clothes. It’s a trip through two seasons and half a dozen countries—and that involves a varied wardrobe. And anyway, I only have the absolute necessities with me.’

Ronan sounded unconvinced. ‘Your idea of bare necessities and mine aren’t the same, I’d guess.’

‘That’s because you’re a man and I’m a woman.’

‘No—it’s because I’m a seasoned traveller and you’re a virgin.’

Kerry couldn’t help making a small derisive snort.

And it was enough to make Ronan turn his head to look down at her face, his voice threaded with the cheek of the devil. ‘In travelling terms anyway. Because obviously by your age and looking the way you do…’

Her jaw dropped.

But he merely chuckled and reclaimed her elbow to steer her closer to the kerb. ‘Okay, Kerry, Kerry Doyle, I’m prepared to give a little on the traditional tourist stuff for the first hour or so to give you some quick photo op’s seeing you’re on a tight schedule—plus this is an easy way to get your bearings, so—’

‘What is?’

He quirked his brows at her in barely disguised amusement, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder and added the words slowly as if he were talking to a complete idiot. ‘That is.’

Kerry was a tad bemused, folding her arms across her breasts and blinking up at him before she asked, ‘Mr Great Adventurer is putting me on an open-top bus with the rest of the tourists? My, my, aren’t you the daring one? I’m so glad I have travel insurance.’

‘We can take the subway and boil to death if you prefer. You won’t see as much, mind you…’

Hard as it was to believe that anywhere barring the face of the sun could be any hotter than where she already was, and with him looking at her the way he was, Kerry wasn’t prepared to find out. But she was a little disappointed—she could have found one of the many bus tours on her own. Somehow she’d expected more from Ronan. Had maybe secretly hoped for more? And that some of that sense of adventure might rub off on her?

He stepped closer and bent his knees until he was looking her directly in the eye, his proximity doing things to her pulse rate and breathing that she hadn’t experienced since, well, since the plane, actually…

‘Trust me.’ His voice dropped seductively, the vibration of the deep tone reaching out to interrupt the usual rhythm of her heart. ‘I promise you won’t forget today.’

Kerry swallowed. She believed him—but somehow she knew, deep to the pit of her soul, it wouldn’t just be the sightseeing she’d remember. And that was a strangely scary thought. Especially when she’d spent so long waiting for a time in her life when she finally had her independence; she’d fought long and hard, worked more hours than she cared to think about, had constantly put the needs of others first. Not that she wanted to change that—but the last thing she needed was to get even temporarily attached to someone who was probably as reliable as an Irish summer.

‘Can I ask you a question?’

He stood tall again, towering over her by a good six inches. ‘Depends.’

‘How many women you meet on planes end up asking you to play tour guide for them?’

‘Regretting asking?’

‘Curious.’

He folded his arms across his chest, mirroring her stance, the simple action accenting the muscles in his forearms and biceps. ‘About how often I do this or why you asked me in the first place?’

‘Yes.’

And why he’d agreed, she supposed. Not that she needed her ego stroked, but she was curious as to why he’d said yes as quickly as he had. He had to be in New York for a reason, didn’t he? Meeting with a publisher? More research for a new book maybe? Someone who’d travelled as much as he had didn’t make a trip just for the sake of it, did they? And if that was the case had he dropped whatever he was doing in favour of spending the day with her?

Because she really wouldn’t want him to think that she’d repay him at the end of it with—or that he was onto some kind of a sure thing or—

‘First up, let’s remember you asked me and not the other way round—though I’d have offered if you’d given me five minutes. Or at the very least pointed you in the general direction of some of my favourite places.’

Kerry opened her mouth.

But Ronan wasn’t done. ‘Secondly, I don’t tend to talk to people on planes much—and any I’ve bothered with have never been a beautiful woman travelling alone, more’s the pity. So, yes—you’re the first one for a guided tour. I’m only human.’

Of all the very many things in there she could have picked to ask questions on, Kerry’s brain could only seem to focus on the one thing: he thought she was beautiful. Really? Not pretty or cute but honest-to-goodness beautiful?

It made her positively glow—a guy like him thinking that. So much for not needing her ego stroked.

‘Thirdly—’ he took a measured breath that expanded his wide chest before continuing with an almost reluctant tone in his voice, as if he wasn’t completely comfortable saying the words ‘—I guess the idea of seeing things through your eyes appealed to me. It’ll do me good to see it from a new perspective—who knows? I might even get a chapter of a book out of it. I’ll even promise to give you an acknowledgement if I do.’

He recovered with a wink. ‘You can thank me later…’

‘Ronan—’ But before she could find anything coherent to say there was a loud greeting from the upper floor of the bus.

‘Ro—my man! C’mon up.’

Ronan grinned, tilting his head right back to throw an answer back. ‘Hey, Johnnie boy—you save us the good seats?’

‘Uh-huh. That your friend?’

‘Yup.’

The younger man whistled. ‘She’s way too good-lookin’ for you, old man—bring her up here so I can steal her away.’

Kerry laughed when the words were accompanied with an exaggerated wink and a beckoning index finger. ‘And that is?’

Ronan cupped her elbow again, guiding her onto the bus as he leaned his head down, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

‘Best tour guide in New York City—just don’t go telling him I said so or he’ll be unbearable.’ He stood taller, voice rising a little. ‘These tours are all about the guides; get a local like John and you’ll get more insight about the city and the best places to go than you ever would from a book.’

Kerry lowered her voice to the same conspiratorial level he’d used. ‘Don’t you know someone who could maybe put it in a book?’

‘Ah-h-h, but these stories aren’t mine to tell— they’re his. And no two tours are ever the same with John. There’s always something new to add or a different joke or something that happened the day before. And that’s what travelling is all about—the people as much as the places. Some places you might forget, but you won’t forget the people you met along the way. Memories Kerry, Kerry Doyle—yours, the people you meet’s— that’s what you’ll have at the end of every trip you take. Moments; snapshots in time, if you like.’

They paused at the bottom of narrow metal stairs leading to the upper deck, where Ronan released her arm and Kerry felt the rush of air-conditioned coolness wash over the heated brand of his touch, creating goose-bumps on her skin. But even though she was aware of it, it was the wistfulness in his voice as he painted the romantic picture that captured her attention most, echoing a need inside her for the kind of moments he’d just described.

‘You really love what you do, don’t you?’

The sigh was silent, but she caught it. What was it that suddenly made him frown? Why did he turn away from her and look up the stairs as if he didn’t want to look her in the eye? And why did she suddenly feel so ridiculously—sad somehow? She really wished she could place a mental finger on whatever it was.

He was quite the mystery.

‘I did.’

Kerry wasn’t completely sure she’d heard him say it, but before she could check a pair of feet appeared on the stairs and an upturned palm was offered her way.

‘Come on up, sweet thing. I have a seat saved specially for you—Ro can just stay down there.’

‘And leave her with you? Don’t think so, pal.’

‘Ro?’ Picking on the nickname she’d previously ignored, she shot an amused glance at Ronan.

‘Don’t even think about adopting it. I can leave you stranded somewhere. Or with Johnnie—he’s famous with the ladies, so if you prefer…’

Placing her hand into John’s, she leaned back a little while walking up the steps. ‘I think I’ll stick with the devil I know.’

She’d always been a sucker for a mystery.

Ronan had spent half a day with her and he still didn’t get her. Not that he’d ever felt the need to place people in boxes so he knew where he stood in the world, but normally he was a good judge— he was worldly-wise, after all. But her he just didn’t get.

For starters he found it hard to believe someone like her didn’t have a load of friends who could’ve gone on holiday with her. Not that everyone could take three months off work to travel round the world, but still. That thought process then led him to wonder what she did that allowed her to take three months off work. She was a little mature for a student taking a gap. He put her early thirties maybe—though she could have passed for younger—but she had a maturity and intelligence to the way she spoke and acted that made him believe she had some life experience under her belt. People over the age of thirty were—calmer, he supposed. They knew what they wanted, were less worried about what people thought, more ‘together’.

And as the day progressed he couldn’t help wondering something else: how she’d managed to stay single when she looked the way she did. Because he wasn’t the only one looking at her as if she were the last female left on the planet, was he?

John flirted outrageously with her during the tour and although Kerry didn’t overly play up to it she hadn’t exactly discouraged him either; laughing that husky laugh of hers, her lips parting to draw in the odd gasp at his audacity when he made innuendos over the tannoy and then blushing adoringly straight after, eyes shining. And it had bugged Ronan, frankly. He didn’t want Johnnie-boy to be the one getting all those reactions.

Almost as if somewhere in his mind Ronan had claimed her as his for the day.

She made a small moaning sound beside him and stretched long, slender legs directly into his line of vision, so he turned his head to watch as she stretched the rest of her body. And had to stifle a groan when his body reacted in a very swift, very male way to what he saw—the woman should wear a warning!

She’d clasped the fingers of one hand around the wrist of the other before lifting her arms above her head and had her head tilted back, eyes closed as she let the sun warm her face. And the combined stretching of legs and arms had arched her spine off the bench, her breasts straining against the snug fit of her azure-blue vest-top.

‘I am so hot.’

Ronan couldn’t help but silently agree.

‘Is it normally this hot here this time of year?’

When she resumed a normal sitting position he just about managed to look at her face before she opened her eyes. ‘They’re having a heatwave. But it’s probably the humidity you’re feeling. We Irish aren’t used to it. You’ll adjust in a couple of days.’

‘A couple of days before I move on then— don’t s’pose you know what the weather is like in Canada?’

He cocked a brow and she smiled.

‘Okay—yes, you do.’ She rolled her eyes while reaching out for the iced water they’d bought from one of the street vendors who’d happily tossed it to the upper floor of the bus in exchange for a scrunched-up dollar bill thrown down at them. Something that had entertained her immensely at the time.

‘I keep forgetting this is all old hat for you. I must look like a little kid on Christmas morning.’

Yeah, she did. But he liked that about her. He’d soaked up some of her enthusiasm as she took in everything on the tour, and the number of times she’d gently set her fine-boned hand on his arm to get his attention before pointing at something or leaned across him to get a better photograph of the Flat Iron Building or the Courthouse or the Woolworth Building or City Hall had only added to his overall enjoyment.

Somewhere along the way he’d forgotten what it was like to feel so excited about everything. But, as good as it was to be reminded not to take things for granted just because he’d seen them a thousand times, it was also a little like poking an open wound with a stick; reminding him of the dark thoughts he’d been putting to the back of his mind the last few months—which had been a bit tough to take, and left him pensive.

What he needed was a way to lighten his mood, and to stop him obsessing about Kerry’s ‘hot’ body.

He turned his head and focussed on the kids playing in front of them. At the bottom end of the island of Manhattan, Battery Park was packed the way it always was, hundreds of tourists milling around filling in time while they took turns patiently waiting in the mile-long queue weaving its way along the concrete paths to the ferries for Ellis and Liberty Islands.

The kids between them and the incoming ferries had the right idea in the heat, Ronan reckoned—in fact…

He grinned, taking Kerry’s hand before standing up and tugging to get her off the bench. ‘C’mon.’

‘Where are—?’

‘You said you were hot, right?’

She resisted, dragging her feet while trying to open her bag and stow away her water, a curtain of hair hiding their destination until it was too late, ‘I did and I am but—’

She squeaked when the narrow fountain of water appeared directly in front of her feet, shooting high enough above her head to sprinkle her face on the downward journey. And Ronan chuckled at the look of surprise on her face, deliberately stepping back so another jet appeared beside them.

Kerry’s eyes narrowed.

He shrugged. ‘Cooler now, aren’t you?’

For a moment she simply glared at him. And then she caught him off guard by moving neatly to one side and tugging on his hand so he was stood pretty much directly over the next jet of water when it appeared.

Closing his eyes, he pursed his lips and shook his head hard to get the water off his hair. Then he opened his eyes, looked down to locate another of the metal rings, and when she tried to tug her hand free he closed his fingers tighter, hauling her forwards and smiling at her gasp as her breasts hit the wall of his chest.

She shook her hair out of her eyes, looked up at him with wide eyes and then laughed as he smirked and spun her—once, twice, in and out of several jets of cold water before releasing her without warning and swinging her out to arm’s length where she was promptly soaked from head to toe by fountains either side of her. Only then did he allow her fingers to slip free from his, deliberately slow so they touched fingertip to fingertip for a few seconds before both their arms dropped.

He prepared himself for outrage.

But before his captivated gaze she simply tilted her head to one side, quirked an arched brow, and deliberately skipped sideways underneath another jet.

Ronan laughed, feeling an inner lightness returning to his chest that’d been missing for longer than he cared to admit. So he made a sideways slide in the opposite direction to her skip—and got wet.

Kerry checked the ground, made a skip back and to her left and got wetter still, lifting her arms from her sides and leaning her head back to welcome the cooling spray. Then she turned round and round in slow circles getting wetter and wetter as each plume of water appeared, her effervescent laughter drawing answering, somewhat lower laughter from Ronan as he watched.

She was amazing. He wondered if she knew that. Somehow he doubted he’d forget it. And, having talked to her briefly about ‘moments’, he knew he was experiencing one of them right there and then…

Kerry laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of what she was doing. What was it they said about people shedding their inhibitions when away from home ground? But it wasn’t just that. She was having fun. Honest-to-goodness fun—joy bubbling up inside her like bubbles in a flute of champagne.

She was in New York, on the first leg of a dream of a lifetime and to top it off she was messing around with an incredibly sexy guy under a set of fountains in the bright sunshine in Battery Park. Life didn’t get much better than that, she reckoned.

They managed to get wet another couple of times on their way out, both still grinning from the shared experience as they walked through the crowd and Kerry fully aware, but not the least bit bothered, by the amused looks aimed their way.

She shook droplets of moisture off her arms and lifted her hands to her hair—ruffling it in the vain hope the hot midday sun would dry it into something resembling curls rather than a frizzy mess. She then stole a sideways glance at Ronan, who was flapping the end of his white T-shirt back and forth, no doubt to try and dry it some—not that Kerry actually had a problem with it plastered against his well-defined chest.

And when he turned his head to look at her she felt her breath catch again, the way it had when she’d spotted him in the crowd. He really did do incredible things to her pulse rate, didn’t he? She’d never met anyone who could do that—and so effortlessly too. He had only to breathe in and out and she found it completely fascinating.

They laughed.

‘Well, you’re cooler now, aren’t you?’ He nudged his upper arm off her shoulder.

So she nudged him back a little harder, laughing all the more when he made an exaggerated stagger to the side. ‘You’re a big kid, you know that, don’t you?’

A large hand was slapped against his chest. ‘Me? I’ll have you know I’m the responsible one—I just made sure the chances of you getting heatstroke were lessened. You’re the one who turned it into a game.’

Still smiling, but with her gaze now fixed forwards on the poignant sight of the mounted globe salvaged from Ground Zero, Kerry admitted in a soft voice, ‘It was fun.’

She dropped her chin to study the painted toenails visible in her sandalled feet for a moment before giving in to the need to look back at Ronan, who was looking at her with a strangely intense expression on his face.

‘You make it sound like it’s something you don’t normally make time for.’

She scrunched up her nose.

‘How come?’

Spoken by the man who was as free as a bird to the woman who’d been trapped by responsibility for over a decade. ‘I have fun. I just don’t—’

‘Have fun the way you just did?’

Normally the lack of smart suits and forcefully tamed hair was enough to fool the world into thinking she was more carefree than she actually was. And he hadn’t seen her in work clothes, so, ‘Do I look boring?’

‘No, that’s why I’m surprised—and now curious.’

Kerry liked that she could make him curious. In the short time she’d known him Lord alone knew there’d been plenty of things that had her curious about him, so it was a good feeling to be able to return the favour.

When she didn’t speak he asked the obvious. ‘So what holds you back?’

‘Is therapy a complimentary part of the tour?’

‘Ooh—defensive.’

How had he done that? Having used the gentle tone he just had, he’d made her feel guilty for not spilling her guts. And Kerry never did, well, not unless she’d known someone a really long time, which technically made it a moot point because anyone who’d known her that long already knew.

But she wasn’t going to ruin such an amazing day with a conversation examining the psychology of why she was the way she was in normal everyday life. So she brushed it over by nudging her shoulder against his arm again, lifting her other hand to push her fingers into the hair on top of her head and ruffling it before letting it fall.

‘What’s next? I assume from your previous disdain for people with patience that we’re not joining the longest queue in the history of mankind so we can make some kind of Irish pilgrimage to Ellis…’

The low rumble of laughter reassured her she’d managed to brush over what could have been an awkward moment. ‘You’d be correct in that assumption. But I do need to know how you feel about boats.’

Kerry stopped and turned to face him, considering a random point above his left ear while she answered. ‘Kinda depends if we’re talking rowboat or cruise ship here. Though I should warn you I hadn’t planned on the cruise portion of my fantasy list for another twenty years or so. And I was thinking more along the lines of the Caribbean for that one.’

‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy that. But I’m thinking more along the lines of the Staten Island ferry. You can see Ellis and take some pictures of Liberty while I fill you in on the associated history free of charge—I’m helpful that way.’

Her gaze shifted to lock with his, the smile immediate and reciprocated just as fast. ‘Lead on Macduff.’

He stared at her for a long moment, searching her eyes while a dozen thoughts crossed through the varying shades of blue in his. But just when she thought he might say something else, he laced his fingers with hers and tugged.

‘C’mon then, Kerry, Kerry Doyle.’

The invisible angelic midget on one shoulder said she really shouldn’t allow him to keep touching her the way he did; as if he had a right to do it and had been doing it for ever. But the equally small invisible siren in high heels on her other promptly reminded her she’d been just as keen to touch him on the bus tour. And fair was fair.

So she decided for just one day of her life she wasn’t going to over-think. She was simply going to do things because she wanted to and because they felt right. Not because she was expected to behave a certain way or because she was concerned what other people thought—the trip was the first thing she’d specifically done for herself in a long, long time, after all. And she’d earned it; she didn’t have to feel guilty about anything.

If karma was going to punish her for grabbing hold of one perfect day, then let it try—they’d be having a long talk about time served.

So she tangled her fingers a little firmer around Ronan’s—softening any subliminal meaning he might get from it by then swinging their arms as they walked down the path out of the park.

He grumbled out a warning. ‘You even think about doing any skipping to go with that arm- swinging and I’m tossing you under the first yellow cab I can find.’

‘You’re no fun.’

The look he gave her was so heated it practically melted her knees, his voice a low, deliciously sensual rumble. ‘Oh, I can be fun. Believe me. And now I know how much fun you can be, my new aim is to make sure you have as much of it as humanly possible. So consider yourself warned, young lady.’

Kerry grinned the whole way out of the park. She could quite happily have the day never end…


CHAPTER THREE

LITTLE did she know it but Kerry Doyle had managed a bit of a miracle in the twelve hours Ronan had spent with her. She was a ray of sunshine. And, caught in her reflected warmth, he’d miraculously forgotten his reason for being in New York this time round.

It wasn’t until the end of the night tour on another open-topped bus that he was faced with a very visible reminder of why he would never be able to forget, because when the light dimmed his world went dark, and he had to force his other senses into overdrive to keep from showing his weakness in front of her.

Thankfully Kerry had been distracted by all the varying photo opportunities afforded to her by the stunning sight of Manhattan lit up against the night sky Ronan didn’t have to look at to know— so indelibly was it imprinted onto his mind after dozens of trips. And by the time they’d returned to Times Square he had enough light to work with to leave her with his pride intact.

He frowned as he stepped off the bus, jostling a couple of people in the crowd before he focussed hard on Kerry. He then allowed himself the luxury of studying her face one more time—watching as the newly familiar soft smile formed on her full lips.

Resentment built inside him like a tidal wave. In another life he wouldn’t have been letting her go. He’d have suggested sushi or lobster or cocktails in one of the bars overlooking the free floor- show that was Times Square at night. He’d have taken her back to the Empire State before it closed so she could see the panoramic view of the city from eighty-odd floors up and he’d have walked her back to her hotel—no matter how far it was— and kissed her long and slow before persuading her to spend another day with him.

Though being gentlemanly enough to leave after the kiss might have taken some effort—he had a sneaking suspicion kissing her might be something he didn’t want to stop doing in any great hurry.

‘Are you hungry?’

Not in the way she probably meant. Looking at her all day had brought on the kind of hunger he hadn’t experienced in a long time, if ever. As if she’d uncovered something his body was desperately lacking and now that it knew it craved it as badly as the air he breathed.

He saw the open warmth in her face as the question hung between them and felt momentarily angry at the universe for having to turn her down. ‘I’ve gotta go. I have an early appointment.’

At least he wasn’t telling her a lie.

She nodded, turning her face away, then leaning her head back a little to smile up at him one last time, one hand resting on the bag at her hip, the other waving out to her side as she raised her voice enough to be heard over the hundreds upon hundreds of people and honking car horns and the yelled voices of vendors selling everything from fake designer label handbags to T-shirts to hotdogs to—

‘I had an amazing day—thank you.’

And there was that word ‘amazing’ again. Somehow he knew he’d always associate it with her, ‘You’re welcome. I haven’t been on one of those buses for years. But they’re a good way to get your bearings the first time. Stick to them and crowds and you won’t go too far wrong. No more flirting with strangers, mind.’

She laughed when he added the last part with an edge of mock severity to his voice. ‘I’ll keep it in mind. And I might take your advice on the helicopter ride before I leave too.’

‘You should.’

‘Another moment to remember…’

‘Exactly.’

He stayed focussed on her and only her for as long as he could manage it without inviting the usual ache behind his eyes, but when it was getting too uncomfortable and he opened his mouth to say the words to let him walk away she distracted him again by moving in to place a warm kiss on his cheek.

It was her fault.

Because if she hadn’t done it he wouldn’t have had the opportunity he now had. He might have resisted the temptation to take one last memory with him, but now he couldn’t, turning his head and pressing his mouth to hers before she had time to react. His hand lifted to cradle the back of her head, he took a step in so his body was close enough to hers to feel the added heat in the humid air, and only then did he close his eyes and let his lips drag over hers the way he’d been thinking about doing since he’d met her.

Every hair on his body immediately tingled with awareness; she tasted of the iced coffee they’d stopped for, a hint of raspberry flavouring lingering on her lips and practically begging him to sample more with the tip of his tongue.

So he did. He had to.

For a second Kerry froze, hands floundering on either side of her body while she was caught in the indecision of reaching for him or simply waiting until the world stopped tilting beneath her feet. Oh, heavens above, but the man had sinfully magic lips! And even while alarm bells rang in her head, they were already being drowned out by the sound of her own blood roaring in her ears.

When he ran the tip of his tongue over the parting in her lips, she opened up and met him in the middle, feeling his low hum of approval all the way to the tips of her toes.

When someone bumped her arm, Ronan’s arm circled her waist—drawing her in against the protective hard planes of his body as he spread his feet wider. And Kerry’s wavering arms automatically lifted in response, her hands settling on his shoulders while she instinctively stood on the balls of her feet to get closer still.

She wasn’t even aware of the fact there were other people around them after that. All there was was him and the kissing. Oh, my, the kissing. Kerry had honestly thought she’d been kissed before—had she been able to think in a straight line she’d probably have had a look back in her memory to check. But after this—

She sighed contently. It was bliss.

Ronan tilted her back a little so he could kiss her deeper still. And it wasn’t a hard kiss, or a kiss that said they were seconds away from being horizontal; in fact it was the very controlled softness and warmth of it, as if he was holding back from her, that wrapped tight around her heart and made it ache for more.

It was a kiss goodbye, wasn’t it? He was ending the amazing day with an even more amazing kiss goodbye. And knowing that made Kerry ache as she’d never ached.

His hand slid forwards so that his thumb was brushing against her cheek when he lifted his head, a small frown deepening the crease between his dark brows as he blinked hard to focus on her. While Kerry in turn looked back at him with drowsy, heavy-lidded eyes and somehow eventually managed the energy to smile.

Ronan smiled back a split second before he removed his hand, loosened his arm and stepped away from her, his voice just husky enough for her to know she wasn’t the only one affected by the kiss.

‘Enjoy your trip, Kerry, Kerry Doyle.’

She swallowed, smile wavering. ‘I’ll try.’

There really didn’t seem to be much more to say. And she didn’t want to ruin the perfect ending to a perfect day by trying to force out words that currently didn’t exist in her scrambled brain. So she stepped back, turning her head to get her bearings before deciding to simply flag down a cab and head back to her hotel. After all, anything she did alone would only make her miss his company after everything they’d done together. She missed him already.

When she looked back he was gone and it took a few minutes for her to see his head in the crowd. He obviously wasn’t one for long goodbyes, then. What man ever was?

And if she was honest, Kerry didn’t think she’d have been able to say it either. So instead she stood still until she couldn’t see him any more, only then turning in a circle to look at all the wondrous sights around her. It was a different universe. One city with a larger population than the entire island she lived on.

And she’d just been kissed senseless in the middle of Times Square by a good-looking guy she’d met on a plane less than twenty-four hours ago. How incredible was that?




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