“You shouldn’t be drinking.”
“Yeah, I considered that. Do you know,” I said, “your eyes are smiling, but your face is not. How do you do that?” I attempted to copy his expression, but all I did was squint.
“You’re going to be a problem for me,” he said in a low tone. He gestured for a server, asking him for a cup of coffee and a plate of food.
“I’m not going to eat,” I said.
“Of course not.”
The coffee arrived, and he put in some sugar. A splash of cream.
“That’s not how I drink my coffee,” I said, like the joke was on him.
“It’s not for you,” he said and took a sip. He made a sound in his throat like it tasted good, and suddenly I wanted some coffee. But I was onto his reverse psychology.
“You work for Caroline,” I said.
“I do.” Another sip of coffee.
“What do you do for her?”
“Whatever she needs.”
The last of my champagne went down easily, and suddenly at my elbow there was a cup of coffee.
“I’d like another glass of champagne,” I told a passing waiter, but beside me Ronan shook his head. A tiny imperceptible movement, but I was conditioned to see those little things. The danger, I’d learned the hard way was always in those little things.
“Fuck off, Ronan,” I said under my breath and walked right past him. He caught my arm, touching me at the fragile bend of my elbow. His palm was big and wide where my skin was tender.
I gasped at the exquisite realness of it. The audacity of it.
“Poppy,” he said, and I blinked, trying to pull out of his grasp. I was... raw where he touched me. I felt too much.
“I never told you my name,” I said.
“You never had to.”
“That night. Did you know who I was the whole time?” I whispered, asking a question that had sat in the back of my brain like a thorn. Unasked, but there. Steady and hurtful.
“Was I only nice to you because you were marrying the senator,” he said. “Is that what you’re asking?”
I said nothing, breathing hard through my nose, looking at the starched white collar of his shirt where it met the black silk of his lapel.
“No,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know who you were until the senator came to the door.”
His blue eyes caught me. Held me. And I couldn’t pull against him. I could barely even breathe. It wasn’t fear that held me. No. Not at all. It was something worse. Something I didn’t have the slightest clue how to manage.
I felt the touch of his gaze on my face. My lips, and they parted so I could pull in a breath. My chest lifted, and he glanced down and away. His jaw tight, and I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t know what this was.
A game. A trick.
Real? A lie?
He let go of my arm, his hand clenched in a fist at his side. And I reached for the coffee, drinking it down in three big sips. It burned my mouth, but the pain cleared my head.
This was some new game, and I didn’t know the rules.
I pulled my skirt back and stepped around him, a wide berth so no part of me brushed up against any part of him.