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“When I was a wee lad, I wanted to be a policeman.”
She giggles quietly, moving her head slightly, rubbing her cheek against my bare chest. My arms tighten around her, anchoring her to me.
“A noble dream,” Fiona snickers. I chuckle, stroking my fingers through her hair. “I’m scared of pennies.”
“Pennies?” Disbelief colors my tone, and Fiona lifts her head to glare at me.
“Are you making fun of me?” she demands, looking adorable as she frowns.
“Never,leannán.My favorite thing in the world to eat is Rhubarb & Custards.”
Fiona is silent for a long moment.
“I have no idea what that is,” she finally whispers. I chuckle softly.
“They’re a sweet.”
She lifts her head to blink blankly at me.
“A boiled candy. They’re the perfect blend of sweet and sour, covered in a sugar coating.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” she replies drily.
I smirk at her, my fingers tracing the lines of her face. Fiona studies me quietly for a moment, and I wonder if she will tell me something else about herself.
“This is nice,” she whispers at last. I tighten my arms around her, resting my cheek against the top of her head.
“Aye, ‘tis very nice, lass,” I agree.
The silence stretches around us, and I realize that Fiona has fallen asleep in my arms after a while. Nuzzling my nose into her hair, I inhale her scent again and close my eyes.
Chapter Seven
FIONA
Wrinkling my nose, I squirm around, freezing when I press against something large and hard.
“Morning,leannán.”
Right. Ronan. In bed with me. My eyes shoot open, widening at the sight of Ronan’s sleepy face so close to mine. He shifts, his erection pressing against my side. My breath catches, and I squirm, stopping abruptly as a growl rumbles out of him. Oops. Mornings. It's probably best to treat it like a wild animal and stay very, very still.
“How did ye sleep?”
“Well…ah!” My hands flex, and Ronan immediately curls around me, carefully cradling my hands and examining them.
“Does it hurt,leannán?”
“A little. I think Mellie will have some aspirin.”
“Aye, lass. Wait here. I’ll fetch some for you.” He springs out of bed, dressing quickly in his jeans and T-shirt and sliding out of the room.
Flexing my hands again, trying to ignore the aching, burning pain, I hug my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them.
“Leannán?”
My eyes dart up to Ronan’s face. He slips into the room, snapping the door shut behind him and sinking onto the bed beside me. He holds up the aspirin, snatching it out of my grasp when I reach for it.
“Ye’re not supposed to do anything with yer hands,leannán.”
