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Authors: Christy Pastore

Tags: #The Scripted Series Book 2

Perfectly Scripted (19 page)

BOOK: Perfectly Scripted
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Holliday

It was a little before six when I got home. I’d hired Aldo, the sous chef at Lorenzo’s, to prepare a special three-course Italian meal. He followed me into the kitchen with all of his ingredients in tow. The penthouse was rather quiet. I suspected that Ronan was in his office or upstairs doing some last-minute packing. After I’d given Aldo the tour of our kitchen, he went to work prepping our appetizer. Then I opened a bottle of red wine before carefully pouring it into a decanter to let it breathe.

“What’s all of this?” Ronan asked as he strode into the kitchen.

“I wanted to surprise you with a lovely dinner,” I replied, rolling up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Is Italian okay?” I gestured towards our chef for the evening.

“This is a wonderful surprise,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I took a moment to introduce him to Aldo. They exchanged greetings as I removed two wine goblets from the cabinet placing them on the counter.

“Care to join me for a pre-dinner cocktail?” Ronan asked, taking my hand in his.

I nodded and then told Aldo to make himself at home. He replied with a sweet smile, insisting we take our time because the antipasti would be ready in twenty minutes.

Ronan grabbed me by the hand and led me down the long hallway to his office, of all places. I dropped onto the leather sofa and the weight of the day rolled off my body. He poured our drinks and joined me on the sofa.

We slipped into our easy “how was your day” ritual conversation. I told him about my visit with Maggie Mills and how she’d invited me to her home Saturday. Feeling uneasy about the matter, I decided not to tell him about Charlotte’s possible business debacle. Heather hadn’t shown up on set today. Apparently, she had a pretty bad stomach bug. Ronan suspected that it was the flu, from what little information Desi had given him. Then he filled me in on his call with the girls and his deeper one-on-one with his ex-wife. Her dilemma reminded me the conversation I’d overheard him having with Ben and Darcy. Unpleasant thoughts began to swirl and mist over my brain. I took a sip of my drink—perhaps for some liquid courage for what I was about to say.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.” I watched the condensation from my glass slide down before landing on the tip of my thumb.

His eyebrows lifted. “Okay.”

“I overheard your conversation with Darcy and, well, I guess he’s your manager…”

“Ben.”

“Ben,” I echoed. “Right.
Ben
suggested that I not walk the red carpet with you for your premiere here in New York…”

His green eyes brightened. “I don’t care what Ben said.
I
want you there.”

My heart tightened at the warm indulgence in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, of course,” he assured me. Then he smiled, taking the drink from my hand and placing it on the end table. After pulling me close, he wrapped his arms around my waist. “Talk to me,” he murmured against my hair.

“It’s nothing. I just love you. That’s all.” I clung to him, and the worry disappeared from my body. Hearing him say that he wanted me there made me feel loved in a way that couldn’t be expressed with words alone.

“I love you too.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

I pushed away from him, wanting to look him in the eyes when I told him what I needed to say. “Ronan, I’m overjoyed that you want me by your side, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it today and I think you should do what Ben has advised.”

He blinked at me. “What if I don’t want to?”

I pushed to my feet and padded to the window. Tiny flecks of white—possibly the last snow of winter—bounced off the terrace lights.

His hands skimmed under my blouse, inching their way towards my breasts. I settled into his frame.

“Are you running away from me again?” he rasped, cupping one of my breasts, his clever fingers rolling my nipple.

I shook my head against his shoulder. “No, it’s not that at all. Not in the least. Our relationship is a delicate and precious thing, but at the same time, so is your career.” It was an odd statement because there was nothing about Ronan that was delicate. He was all man and all mine.

I felt a twinge of pain on my shoulder. His teeth grazed my skin, and my skin pricked with goosebumps. It was a thrilling kind of pain, like he was marking me, branding me as
his
.


Beauty
,” he whispered against my skin before kissing his way up my throat. “You’re one of the most precious things to me. I want you there with me,
please
.” His husky voice was filled with need.

I faced him, gazing into his eyes. “I know about the Van Wyk picture and how you nearly lost out on the opportunity because of me.”

He started to speak, but I cut him off with a kiss. I tasted the whiskey on his tongue, which was intoxicating. His kisses always were. I felt drunk on him. My tongue slid across his, stroking it greedily. Sucking.

His hands fisted my ponytail, holding me in place as he took the kiss over, my mouth, devouring me. In that moment, we were as close as two people could be, but it never seemed to be enough. I always wanted
more
.

More of everything.

More of him.

“I’m tabling this conversation until after dinner.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “However, while we are far from done, you’ve given an amazing opening statement.”

I laughed. “Get ready for my cross-examination. But the real kicker will be my closing argument.” I licked his bottom lip, giving his cock a gentle grip by adding just the right amount of pressure to signal my plans for him later.

He let out a frustrated groan and dropped to his knees. “Do we
really
need to eat? I’d rather have sex with you right here and now.”

Making my way to the door, I replied, “We’ll save our dessert for the bedroom, handsome.” Then I coaxed him with my finger to come to me.

He shook his head—I’d worked him up and he needed a minute. Nodding, I took a few moments to check my makeup in the mirror. I was visibly flushed from our make out session.

My fingertips grazed over the mark in my skin below my neck. I smiled, but then I was reminded of the mark inches below.
Maybe I should consider having the marks removed.

Yes!
That would be my gift to Ronan. When he returned, I’d be scar free.

I adjusted my blouse as he rose to his feet. He approached me slowly, taking my hand in his.

“Ready to eat?” he asked. “I’m famished.”

“Yes, but I cannot wait for dessert.”

“That makes two of us.”

 

 

After we’d said goodbye to Aldo, who’d made a spectacular dinner, and cleaned the kitchen, we made our way upstairs with our dessert: two mini chocolate tiramisu cakes from Lorenzo’s and some Limoncello.

“It’s killing me not to lick all the frosting off this cake right now.”

“I have a better suggestion for the use of your mouth.”

“Fiend.” I shook my head, dropping into the chair in the sitting room. I popped the entire mini cake into my mouth.

Ronan laughed and walked to the bar. I assumed he was going to make us an after-dinner cocktail.

Chew, chew, chew, and swallow.
“I’ll have an Armagnac, please.” I said after licking the little bits of chocolate from my thumb.

“I have something better than a cocktail,” he replied, revealing a small gift box in the palm of his hand.

Lifting an eyebrow, I asked, “What’s this?”

“Just open it,” he coaxed, placing the box in my hand.

The bow fell away as I lifted the top carefully, feeling giddy at what was inside. My eyes widened at the sight of a velvet ring box.
Oh God. No. No.
It was much too soon for what I thought this could be, and I was shaking as I lifted the case to my hands. My right leg started to bounce.

He dropped to his knees in front of me. “Holliday,” he said, softly resting his hand on my knee. “Relax. It’s not what you’re thinking in that beautiful head of yours.”

Relief washed over me. Just as quickly, something inside melted, followed by a white-hot ache. Everything in our relationship had happened in such a rush and thrill of excitement. While I examined my reaction, my feelings only reinforced that I’d fallen deeply in love with Ronan. Though as wonderful as he made me feel, I hadn’t quite considered marriage.

Why the hell am I even thinking about this?

“Oh, no. I didn’t…I wasn’t thinking of
that
.”

Liar.

It was far too soon to have thoughts of happily ever after. For as long as I could remember, I’d never thought I was the marrying kind of girl. Maybe I was jaded, although I wasn’t sure why I felt that way. My mother and Perry had a strong, loving relationship. Charlotte and Lucan made me want to vomit rainbows. I was convinced they were the most perfect couple on the planet.

“Open it,” he said.

I nodded. Looking at the box, I recalled my conversation with Leah and Jade when they’d told me that their daddy had said, “The best things come in tiny packages.” Whatever this box contained was only a gift, not a proposal.

With steady hands, I lifted the lid with my thumb. “Wow.” Inside, sat the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. “A ruby?”

“No, that’s a garnet gemstone.”

The intense red, oval-shaped center stone was surrounded by a double row of dazzling white diamonds in platinum and18k gold. The garnet gem was at least half a carat.

“Why a garnet stone?” The only thing I knew about garnet was that it was the birthstone for January.

“Garnet is believed to be an inspiration stone. The red color is also associated with energy, creativity, and passion. It’s easy to connect a deep-red-colored stone to a romantic relationship. It symbolizes intimacy, sensuality, and—more often—sexuality.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, causing me to laugh and nearly choke on the final sips of my sweet drink.

He went on to explain the healing properties of the stone. And then he gave me a brief history lesson about garnet and the Bronze Age, which I was only half listening to, and how Don Juan adorned his ring with garnets as it was often associated with the stone of conquerors.

“In deeper relationships, a garnet ring symbolizes commitment and pure love between couples.” His hand reached out to cover mine. “Increasing the couple’s loyalty to one another while bringing balance to the sexual passion and intimacy aspects of love they have for one another.”

“You put a lot of thought into this gift. I am impressed.” I smiled. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” I pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Well, don’t be too impressed, because the bottom line,” he said, taking the box from my hand and placing the gorgeous piece of jewelry on my right ring finger, is that I wanted to give you something special because I love you,” he whispered against my lips.

“I love you too.” I nipped his lower lip with my teeth.

“Good,” he said, pulling me onto the floor with him.

My mouth found his, hot and wet, his tongue licking mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and my hands drifted to his wild curls, tugging and pulling. Breaking our kiss, Ronan relaxed back on his knees and stared at me.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he replied, stroking his fingers across my cheek. Then he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and snapped a picture of me.

“Your phone must have a ton of pictures of me.” I laughed.

“I can never have too many of you.” He pinned me beneath him again.

“Do you still have that camera? You know, the one the director asked you to practice with for your film?” I wiggled from underneath him to stand.

“I do. I believe it’s in my office,” he replied, pushing to his feet. “Why do you ask?”

“Go grab it and meet me in the bedroom.” I started to walk away.

Over my shoulder, I saw him giving me that devilish look of his. Pulling the zipper on my skirt, I shimmied it down my hips. Then it fell, pooling around my feet.

BOOK: Perfectly Scripted
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