Page 26 of Blossom


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And a million other things I want to feel with him.

Chapter Seven

Ronan

I’m staying in the Countess Regalia hotel in Manhattan. I’ve got my realtor in the city, looking for an apartment for me. She’ll be showing me some places tomorrow.

The cabbie drops me off, and I head to the elevators and up to my suite.

Since it’s only a bit past eleven, I get my usual looks as I walk through the lobby. I enjoy wearing a kilt. I wasn’t lying to Mary when I told her I have utility kilts. I also have a black leather kilt that I wear to the club sometimes. It’s too thick for all the necessary pleating. But tomorrow, when looking at apartments, I’ll be wearing jeans and a button-down, like the regular American guy that I am.

Because I was born here, I’m an American citizen. My father never became a naturalized citizen of the United States. He was able to live and work here because of his marriage to my mother, but he didn’t ever want to give up his Scottish citizenship.

I get to the elevator, slide my key card through the reader, and head up to the top floor, where my suite is. I open the door, flick on the light switch. The lavish velvet sectional sofa comes into view, and floor-to-ceiling windows offer panoramic views of the city’s skyline.

Adjacent to the living area is an elegant dining space, complete with a stylish dining table and designer chairs. A crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, but it’s not currently illuminated, so my gaze is drawn to the sliver of light coming from the door to the bedroom.

That’s odd. I know I turned off the light when I left, and housekeeping hasn’t been here. They were here this morning.

I stride straight to the door, open it and—

“I thought you’d never get here.”

Fuck.

I know the voice.

I know the naked body.

It’s Keira. My submissive for the last five years.

The one who left me because she wanted more—more than I could give her.

She wants a husband and a family in addition to our current lifestyle.

I don’t want any of that. I’m married to my job. Always have been. I watched my mother compete with work for my father’s attention, and I won’t do that to a woman or child.

Besides, I don’t feel that way about Keira. I consider her a friend. She’s a submissive, and I’m sexually attracted to her. That is the end of it. I don’t feel the emotion necessary to go further. She deserves more, and so do I. If I want to focus on my career and not bring a wife and children into the picture, that’s my business, and I deserve to have what I want.

So does she. If she wants a husband and children, I’m not the man for her.

Yet here she is, naked, lying on my king-size bed. This is a hotel, so there are no rungs on the headboard to bind her to. But she holds her wrists together above her head, as if they’re bound by invisible rope or silk.

“I don’t need rope to bind me,” she says. “I’m bound solely by your will.”

“What are you doing here, Keira?”

“I couldn’t leave things the way we left them.” She wiggles slightly, as though she’s truly bound. “I can be what you want, sir. I know I said I wanted more—a family—but I’ve given it all kinds of thought. I no longer need those things. All I need is to be yours in the bedroom. To submit to your desires.”

I sigh. I need to approach this gently. I never wanted to hurt Keira, but she and I have different needs at this point in our lives, no matter what she’s saying now.

“How did you get here?” I ask.

“I flew, of course.”

“How did you find me?”

“There aren’t too many Ronan O’Connors staying at posh hotels in Manhattan. It didn’t take long.”

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