Page 14 of Talk Howly to Me

The room confusion still nagged at her, creating an uncomfortable knot in her stomach that she couldn't ignore. "Did you give me someone else's room?" The words came out sharp, but she pressed on. "I really don't need to be in the presidential suite, and if someone else reserved it and there's no space, I can go find another hotel. It's no big deal."

Something flickered across Ronan's face—an expression too quick to interpret but intense enough to make her wonder what she'd said wrong.

"No." The single word carried such finality that it seemed to echo in the vast space. "We didn't give you someone else's room. We keep that space open for certain important guests when they come to town, but no one reserved it for this week."

Relief loosened some of the tension in her shoulders, but the financial reality remained unchanged. "Well, I really can't afford that. And this nice woman told me that you guys are booked out this week, and I can't downgrade to another room."

"Sloane." The way Ronan said her name made her look directly at him, and she found herself caught by the intensity in his blue eyes. "You don't need to worry about the cost. And that brings me to what I was going to ask you."

He paused, and she found herself holding her breath without knowing why.

"Would you like to work here and earn your room and board? Would that feel better for you?"

The offer hit her like a lifeline thrown to someone drowning. "Yes." The word escaped, carrying more relief than she'd intended to reveal. "That would make me feel better. I want to be useful while I stay here, and that will make me stress less about the cost of my suite."

When Ronan smiled, the transformation was remarkable. The hard lines of his face softened, revealing glimpses of warmth that had been hidden beneath his composed exterior. The sight did something dangerous to her equilibrium, making her stomach flutter.

Focus, she reminded herself. This is about work, not whatever weird attraction you're feeling.

"So, what do you say about being mine and Kozue's personal assistant?"

The redhead's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline. She gave Ronan a look that clearly conveyed her opinion of this newly invented position, and he returned it with an expression that promised they would discuss this later.

"Well, I don't really want to cause any friction here." Sloane glanced between them, reading the unspoken communication with the same skill that had kept her alive in foster homes where tension meant trouble. "But I could do that job. I've worked more jobs than I can count on two hands, and I have experience in practically everything."

"Good." Ronan's smile widened, and the sight sent another unwelcome jolt of attraction through her system. "Because this lodge requires versatility, and being our assistant will require some patience."

"A lot of patience," the redhead chimed in with a giggle that suggested she found the entire situation amusing rather than concerning.

She walked away before Ronan could shoot her another warning look, her departure carrying the distinct air of someone who knew exactly what she was doing. Ronan looked almost sheepish as he watched her go, an expression that made him seem more human and somehow even more appealing.

"Alright, then consider yourself hired."

He extended his hand toward her, and every rational thought in Sloane's head screamed at her not to take it. The memory of that electric shock from their first handshake the night before should have been warning enough. But something about the gesture—formal, respectful, treating her like an equal—made her reach out before common sense could intervene.

The moment their skin made contact, lightning struck inside her body.

The jolt that raced up her arm was even more intense than she remembered, sending heat spiraling through her with an intensity that made her knees weak. Ronan's eyes dilated instantly, the clear blue darkening to something deeper and hungrier that made her breath catch.

Without conscious thought, she found herself leaning closer, her grip on his hand tightening as his scent wrapped around her like an embrace. Cedar and spice, clean and masculine and utterly intoxicating. The rational part of her mind that had kept her alive screamed warnings about getting involved with employers, about the dangers of attraction, about maintaining professional boundaries.

But she ignored every single warning.

Heat pooled low in her belly as she stared into his darkened eyes, recognizing the same hunger she felt reflected back at her, and the air seemed to crackle with electricity and possibilities that made her pulse race.

"Oh, good morning, Sloane." Kozue's voice penetrated through the moment like a bucket of cold water.

Sloane jerked her hand away from Ronan's, spinning to face the man who had somehow appeared without her noticing—a lapse in awareness that should have terrified her but instead left her feeling oddly disappointed.

"Perfect timing. I just put a fresh batch of pancakes out in the dining room."

Kozue's warm smile seemed genuine, but she caught something in his green eyes—a flicker of the same intensity she'd just witnessed in Ronan. It was gone so quickly she might have imagined it, replaced by his easygoing charm and obvious desire to feed her.

"Great." She managed to keep her voice steady despite the lingering effects of whatever had just happened with Ronan. "I'm starved, actually."

As Kozue gestured toward the corridor that led deeper into the lodge, Sloane found herself walking between the two men who had turned her world upside down in less than twelve hours. Ronan's presence felt solid and protective, while Kozue's warmth created a sense of belonging and safety she'd never experienced.

For reasons she couldn't begin to understand, being flanked by these two powerful men felt impossibly right.