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Which you are, she mocked her image.

What Ronan saw in her, she had no idea. Yet the man stayed. No matter what she threw at him, he took the punches.

And he admired her. Liked her. That much was clear.

But that woman was an illusion. Something he had conjured in his mind.

The real her …

That woman wasn’t someone he’d choose.

Gripping the basin, she dropped her head.

Ronan was everything she wasn’t.

Solid. Good. Honorable.

And she’d taken advantage of that.

Wrapped herself in his goodness.

Let herself believe she could borrow it. Wear it.

She couldn’t do that anymore.

He needed — deserved — to know the truth.

Her truth.

And it had to come from her.

Today.

Now.

She tied her hair up, splashed water over her face, brushed her teeth. Used the toilet. Washed her hands. Delayed as long as she could.

Until she couldn’t anymore.

Felicity turned for the door.

32

Katerina Liminov

Ronan was still in the kitchen when the bathroom door opened.

The delay had been deliberate. She’d been vulnerable, and he didn’t want her making decisions in the wake of that.

So, he gave her time. Gave her space. And dammit, gave her an out.

The soft plod of her footsteps sounded in the hallway.

She walked in.

Yeah … the softness was gone. In its place, something sharper.

Disappointment flooded through him, and he looked for something to do. “Coffee?” He lifted the pot.