I smiled softly and whispered back, “Right.”
He motioned for me to take a seat in one of the plush armchairs positioned near the window while he went to get changed out of his scrubs.
The office reflected his personality—medical journals beside his desk, a photo from a surgical conference, well-loved novels on a shelf, pictures of loved ones on the wall, and his parents’ wedding ring framed on the highest shelf.
Even in the moments leading up to the night he left, everything was always placed in that way, and it was a breath of fresh air to know he didn’t change much.
“I’m back, sorry,” he said, walking in looking like a different person, his Invictus cologne as strong as ever, and his coat as white as pearls. “Do you prefer if we speak in English or Italian?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I—”
“Ronan,” a high-pitched feminine voice called out as they burstopen the door, “Good, you’re still here. How was the surgery, by the way?”
I couldn’t see their face, as the person hadn’t turned around, but from the color of the hair, I realized it was his assistant, and my grip on the edge of the sofa tightened.
“Surgery was good, and it’s late. What are you doing here?” he jokingly asked.
She leaned against his desk, her hips poking out. “I needed you to sign some documents to submit by five in the morning, and this invitation from the new agency you bought shares in came for you, too.”
“Five in the morning?” he asked in disbelief, a laugh escaping his mouth as he took the papers to sign.
The blood was rushing, and I either needed to leave and give them the time theyclearlyneeded or she needed to leave.
Yeah,sheneeded to leave.
“Time zones,” she said and pinned her hair up, “I—”
I cleared my throat, making my presence known, and she turned around, a look of shock present on her face.
“Stai bene?48” Ronan asked, as he probably saw how fucking annoyed I looked.
“Ti sembra che io stia bene, cazzo?49” I asked, and he sat up in his chair.
“I didn’t see or notice you there,” she said, making her way over toward me, an unmistakable sway in her hips. “I’m Rachel. It’s lovely to meet you, Ms.?”
“You didn’t look to notice,” I answered, my voice sharper than intended. “Miss Moretti.”
My eyes were fixed on her, sensing a look of discomfort, when Ronan broke the silence.
“Here you go, Rachel,” he said, handing her the files, “have a great night.”
“You too,” she responded, then turned to face me. “Have agreat night.”
His intense gaze found my eyes as he rose and sauntered over, settling into the chair beside me.
“You are breathtaking,” he gushed, his voice smooth as silk. “Even more so that you’re jealous.”
“Jealous?” I scoffed, my tone laced with disbelief. “You’re delusional.”
“Delusional? In love with you? Observant? Aren’t they all the same thing,amore mia?50”
It took every ounce of self-control to stifle the smile threatening to break through. Instead, I rolled my eyes, crossing my legs casually.
“Definitely delusional,” I repeated dryly.
“I don’t mind,” he murmured, his gaze unwavering. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
“She calls you Ronan.”
