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Black Rose has a strict “no fraternizing with the members” policy, but from the sound of Jen’s voice, I’m pretty sure she’d willingly get herself axed for another look under that kilt.
The green-eyed monster roars through me—but why? He’s gorgeous, no doubt, but he could be a complete asshole for all I know. Except he’s not. Not the way he looked absolutely horrified when he ran into Jennifer and then helped her up and escorted her back to the bar.
“Did you need anything else, Blossom?” Jen asks.
“Yes…I’m going to have a lemon drop, I think.”
“You got it.” She starts to move, but I stop her.
“And Jen?”
“Yeah?”
“Just one more thing. Who is he?”
Chapter Three
Ronan
“You’re a pretty thing,” I say to the brunette who just sat down next to me at the bar.
She’s wearing a red halter top and a denim miniskirt.
And she is pretty. Long dark hair, warm brown eyes, full thick lashes.
But she isn’t the one I noticed when I walked by her table a few minutes ago.
I noticed her auburn-haired friend.
Her friend wearing a simple black dress, nothing special.
It was something about her eyes, though…a lighter brown, like well-aged, single-malt scotch.
“Thank you.” She smiles. “My name is Lotus.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“It’s my submissive name. The name I’m known as here.”
“Ronan,” I say, holding out my hand.
She takes it, returns my handshake. “So are we just going to not acknowledge your little faux pas when you passed my table?”
I chuckle. “First time that’s ever happened to me.” And it happened because I glanced at her gorgeous friend and then couldn’t look away. “I’m just glad the server is all right.”
“Jen’s tougher than she looks,” Lotus says. “I haven’t seen you here before.”
“It’s my first time. I just moved here from Glasgow.”
She tilts her head slightly. “You do have a little bit of a brogue, but it’s light.”
I get that all the time, especially when I’m in my plaid. But I have no brogue. Not even slightly. “I lived most of my childhood here in the States. My mother’s American.”
“I see.”
“Who’s your friend?” I glance over at the beautiful redhead again—the reason for my faux pas, as Lotus so eloquently put it—who’s staring at her hands. She has “submissive” written all over her, and that only intrigues me more.
“That’s Blossom. She and I are besties.”
