Perfectly Scripted (12 page)

He lifted his head from his notebook, and his eyes met mine. “That is a big decision. Is that something you have been thinking about for a while?”

I nodded, smiling with confidence. “I haven’t had a nightmare in a few weeks. I feel like I have a good handle on my emotional triggers.”

Scribble, scribble…

“If you recall, Holliday, your most recent nightmare stemmed directly from a trigger.” He shot me a knowing glance. “Since you’ve started your relationship, do you feel your panic attacks and nightmares have increased or decreased?”

“Increased, I guess. But that’s not entirely a fair assessment because I am learning to handle a new relationship and a new schedule,” I protested. “Given my history, I’d say I’m doing surprisingly well.”

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged. “Let’s lower your dosage and begin to taper you off the drug. I think that would be our best course of action. I’m proud of you, Holliday. You have come a long way.”

Smiling, I nodded in agreement. “Thank you. That means a lot. I don’t want to rely on the medication. In my research, I’ve found that some patients have tremendous success with natural healing methods.”

Dr. Goodwin took a small bottle off the shelf and handed it to me. “This is lavender oil. I want you to use that when you need to de-stress and relax.”

“What do I do with it?”

“When you feel a wave of anxiety, apply a small amount to your wrists. This is an effective alternative to taking the medication. I’m going to let you decide which remedy you choose depending on your agitation level.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“I want you to try yoga a few times a week and meditation when you feel stressed at work. Close your door, turn off the lights, and take a few minutes for yourself.”

Part of me knew that this would be a challenge. Between the Foundation Gala, Ronan’s leaving for his international press tour, and Fashion Week, I already felt the tension rising in my body. For me, the meds were an instant relief. How would my body react to something other than medication? Better yet, how would my mind?

No matter. Even though it was going to be an adjustment, I had to try—for my own good and for the good of my relationship with Ronan.

Blake pulled the limo onto the tarmac moments before the stairs of the private plane came down. After what felt like days, Ronan emerged from the plane looking as handsome as ever. My stomach flipped at the sight of him dressed in dark jeans, a navy-blue pea coat, and a knit beanie. Then it dropped as soon as the familiar blonde stepped out of the cabin of the plane right behind him.

Heather Young.

She threw her head back, and her long, golden hair draped softly around her shoulders. My heartbeat quickened when Ronan offered his hand and led her down the staircase. Then her heel caught on the pavement, which sent her stumbling forward, right into his chest.

Classic damsel-in-distress move.

I froze, my stomach knotting as he clutched her forearms. With his hand, he swept the hair out of her face. Being the lovely gentleman he was, he helped her stand upright. Offering him a flirtatious smile, Heather waved her hands in the air, motioning back to the staircase. They shared a laugh and then walked towards the limo. She followed close—too close for my liking.

Surely he—
we
—were not giving her a lift. My eyes darted around, furiously looking for a town car, a limo, or even a witch’s broom. No such luck.

Dean opened the door and Heather climbed inside, relaxing into the backseat and dropping her handbag to the seat in front of her, a few feet from where I was sitting. After the door had closed, it took a moment for her eyes to meet mine.

“Holliday,” she breathed excitedly, pulling her charcoal-colored skirt down over her knee.

“Heather,” I replied smoothly, holding her gaze.

“Ronan didn’t mention you were meeting
us
here.”

“No, I guess he wouldn’t have because he didn’t know I
was picking
him
up.”

She crossed her ankles and pulled her leather gloves off, revealing a blood-red manicure. The door opened once again and Ronan’s ass glided across the leather seat. His green eyes sparkled, and my heart surged with excitement. I watched in satisfaction as his beautiful mouth curved into a devilish smile at the realization that I was waiting for him.

Never taking his eyes off mine, he moved from the backseat to settle beside me, completely ignoring the busty blonde to his right. She huffed when his body accidently shifted in the seat and sent her handbag to the floor. He cupped my face in his hands, sliding his mouth over mine and taking me in an intoxicating kiss that had me gasping for air.

“My beauty,” he whispered against my lips.

“That was quite a hello.” I breathed.

“I’m incredibly glad to see you.”

“You’ll also be glad to know that I’m not wearing any panties,” I whispered in his ear. “But, since we have another
unexpected
passenger…”

“You’re an extremely naughty girl.” He traced the hem of my skirt with his fingers. “Should I tell her to get out?” he murmured against my cheek.

I loved the way his breath curled across my skin. Scorching heat raced through my entire body like liquid fire.

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m going to take pleasure in torturing you until we get home.”

“
Fuck me
,” he groaned, slipping his hand under my skirt.

“Oh, I will.” I traced the pad of my thumb over the seam of his lips. “
When
we get home.” Then I shifted in the seat, allowing his fingertips to brush against my upper thigh, relishing in the torment before I shoved his hand away.

Ronan reached for the intercom button. “Blake, Miss Young is staying at The Hawthorne Parke Plaza. That’s our first stop.”

“Very well, Mr. Connolly.”

“And, Blake.” Tingles of heat climbed up my legs soft rub of his fingers on the back of my knee. “Step on it,” he ordered, cocking an eyebrow.

Oh, I know that look.

Holliday

“So tell me all about the Golden Globes,” I prompted. “You looked incredibly dashing on television, by the way.” I swear he was so photogenic that it almost always looked like he was making love to the camera.

“I’d rather talk about anything else other than the Golden Globes.” He exhaled, gliding his hand along my rib cage.

“Okay, well…you and Heather seemed to have made up,” I replied, lacing my fingers with his.

“You change the subject to Heather,” he laughed. “As we’re lying in bed. After we just had mind-blowing sex.”

I turned to face him, propping up on my elbows. “Hey, you asked me to change the subject.”

“You have an odd sense of timing.”

“I think it’s odd you don’t see that Heather still has a thing for you.”

“No.
No way
,” he scoffed.

“I saw the way she looked at you,” I said. “And when you helped Heather with her bags at the hotel, she ate it up. She loved having your attention. Throwing a flirtatious smile your way, a light touch to the arm, giving you a hug goodbye. She was using any excuse to touch you. A woman knows these things.”

“That ship sailed a long time ago. She and I both have moved on. Besides, she’s extremely happy with Grady now.”

“Right.” My tone was laced with sarcasm. “Well, if you keep being so nice to her, she’s going to get the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you continue to do little things for her, like opening doors and helping her with her bags, she might misinterpret your being a gentleman as a deeper meaning.”

“What are you suggesting? Should I be a dick to her?”

I laughed. “Fuck no. She might like you treating her like shit more than your gentlemanly demeanor. I’m certain she was less than thrilled when she saw me sitting in the limo.”

“I’ll continue to keep things between her and me strictly professional. I promise.”

“Good.” I smiled against his lips, giving him a kiss.

After sliding his hands around my waist, he pulled me against his chest. I curled into him as he whispered gentle kisses down my shoulder and back up. His fingers brushed my hair to one side, continuing his sensual kisses. This tender intimacy only served to reignite my lust, my overwhelming need to have him inside me once again. But, instead of giving in, I decided to bring up the Foundation Gala.

“Hey,” I began, rolling on my side to face him again.
Holy God, this man has the most beautiful face.
I never tired of appreciating his masculine features.

His defined, strong jaw. His tousled, dark-chestnut locks. His impeccably groomed facial hair. The man was seriously sexy with or without facial hair, but I preferred him with a fair amount of stubble. His eyes—those piercing, jade eyes. They were the kind that seduced your soul and stole your breath.

And that’s just his face, his perfectly gorgeous face, which had me panting for his full lips to speak words. Any words. He could read a cereal box in that sexy Irish brogue and melt panties with that masculine purr alone.

“Hmmm,” he mumbled.

“Tomorrow evening is the J. Edward Avalon Foundation Gala and—”

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, meaning I’ll go as your date.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to think about this? I mean, you’ll be spending an entire evening schmoozing with Hollywood types and…my family.”

“Beauty,” he said, tracing the curve of my face with his finger. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“What about your filming schedule?”

“Not to worry. I don’t have to be back until the day after tomorrow. I’ll have Donna e-mail you my schedule if that will help you for booking social engagements?”

“That sounds great, but still…My family.” I let out a deep sigh. “They can be a bit…intense. You’ve met Charlotte, and my mom is…well, not as vocal as my sister, but she has a flair for the dramatic.”

He pulled me close, kissing the top of my head. “We’ll get through it.
Together
.”