I shook my head. “Inaya and I had dinner.”
We paused, caught in the pull of each other’s presence.
“Why did you have to make me hate you?” I whispered, the words slipping out, raw and vulnerable.
He looked puzzled. “Huh?”
“Nothing,” I muttered, brushing it off. “It’s nothing.”
He studied me before nodding. “Are you sure?”
“It’s late,” I said, standing up, needing distance. “I should go.”
“Let me take you to your hotel,” he offered softly.
“I’ll Uber,” I replied, heart racing with mixed emotions.
Without another word, I turned and left, feeling his eyes on me as I walked away with a cloud of uncertainty floating in the air.
Chapter Twenty-seven
RONAN
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
Nina Chiara Moretti.
That was the one name roaming in my head.
She was the one woman always on my mind and the last person I expected to see at my hospital last night. Seeing her again, standing there with that fire in her eyes, caught me off guard. She was breathtaking.
Her dark skin glowed under the hospital lights, accentuated by a black dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Red stilettos, matching her lips and coat, added an enticing edge. Bold eye makeup intensified the fierceness of her gaze. Despite the years,she still held the same magnetism that first drew me to her.
“Why did you have to make me hate you?”
Her words cut through me like a knife.
I searched her eyes for answers, but she withdrew, her vulnerability quickly masked by indifference. When she declined my offer to take her home, I had two unmarked vehicles follow her, ensuring the Uber took her safely. I didn’t leave my office until I got the all-clear.
Another off day passed quickly as I caught up on patient files before getting ready for Dillon’s annual birthday gala.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored Stuart Hughes suit, my black hair slicked back and Baccarat Rouge scent in the air, I admired my reflection. The deep charcoal suit with a hint of midnight blue set me apart from the sea of blacks and grays, and as I adjusted my cufflinks, thoughts of Nina distracted me, though I knew she’d be there to ease my nerves.
The ride to the gala was smooth, a welcome break from the usual traffic chaos. I parked, handed the keys to the valet, and stepped into a flurry of flashing lights and paparazzi.
“Dr. Romano!” aTMZreporter shouted above the din. “It’s amazing to see you here. We assumed you wouldn’t be in attendance.”
“This gala is way too important to miss,” I replied, my voice steady.
Another reporter piped up, “Where’s your date, Dr. Romano?”
I offered a sly smile. “You’ll see her arriving soon, or maybe she’s already here.”
“And how will we know it’s her?” a cheeky voice called out.
I turned, eyes gleaming with confidence. “You’ll notice the most gorgeous Black-Italian woman in the room,” I declared, leaving them buzzing with curiosity as I entered the venue.
