Beautiful Secret (Beautiful Bastard 4)

“Stop,” she said through an uncomfortable laugh. “That’s why I don’t like talking about it. It was a bad night, but one of the many benefits of having good psychologists for parents is that you learn to talk about things, which helped me out with this.”

Ruby seemed so wholly healthy, so composed, weathering my fits and starts easily. That said, it was all well and good to embrace the idea of being adventurous sexually with someone, but it made me regard her a bit more earnestly as someone with good and bad experiences, who not only wanted to handle me carefully, but also required careful handling of her own.

“Just ask me,” she said, correctly reading my expression. “If we’re going to do this”—she gestured between us—“then you need to know these things about me.”

“You’re not . . .” I began, feeling awkward, like I was trying on a child’s glove. I swallowed, and then swallowed again, coughing.

“Niall,” she said, stretching to kiss me, letting her lips linger at the corner of my mouth. “Ask.”

“Sex . . . isn’t an issue for you.” It wasn’t a question, and I wanted to close my eyes and vanish when I felt the hot flush of embarrassment rise over my skin. She was just so open, so comfortable being sexual.

She didn’t seem to notice, and didn’t even seem bothered by my blunt words. “It was at first,” she began. “I mean, maybe it still is sometimes. For the first year or so after I was a little . . . freaked-out. I slept with a bunch of guys, almost like, ‘Hey, universe, I choose to do this. And this, and this.’ But my therapist helped. What Paul did wasn’t really about sex. He was a mess. The times I’ve been with guys after him weren’t anything like that. I don’t feel like he broke me, but he did show me that some people are just . . . bad.”

“Do you think of it often?”

She smiled up at me and touching my lips with her index finger in a gesture that was at once sweet and maddeningly seductive. “I guess. It depends on what’s going on in my life, really.”

I felt myself instinctively pulling back.

“But especially times like now, where I’m worried it’s going to make you careful with me, or hesitant to let go . . .” Her eyes searched mine, pleading. “Promise me you won’t be.”

I wanted to promise her this, but what she’d told me simply reinforced my desire to take this slowly. “I—”

We were interrupted by a knock at the door: our food had arrived. I stood, slipping on and buttoning my shirt to let a man with a rolling food-laden table into the room. He placed it beside the bed as I signed the ticket. The room ticked in the silence; the remnants of our conversation seemed to dissolve out of the air.

Ruby sat on the mattress, curling her legs beneath her as she lifted the silver domes off our plates. The door closed behind the waiter, and I sat beside her at the table.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” she mumbled, pouring ketchup on her plate. She leaned over, kissing my cheek. She was relentlessly right-minded. “Thanks for dinner, hottie.”

And as she tucked into her meal, it was clear that, for the time being, our conversation had moved on.

* * *

Ruby fell back against the mattress with a satisfied groan. “Whatever happens tonight, just know you’re in competition with that cheeseburger for best in show.”

“I fear Burger Joint has a bit more experience with cheeseburgers than I do.”

“Then bring your mad seduction skills, Mr. Stella,” she teased.

Dinner had been good, but I hadn’t paid much attention, moving mostly on autopilot. I knew without a doubt that I didn’t want to move too fast, and given her honesty with me tonight, I wanted to be particularly careful with her emotions, too.

I moved the table away from the side of the bed and returned to her, maneuvering so that I lay beside her, hovering above.

“Good start,” she whispered, hands moving to begin unbuttoning my dress shirt. Again.

My fingers played with the button at the top of her silk shirt.

“Are you having second thoughts?” she asked, perhaps after I lingered too long on my action.

I shook my head, thinking. Her green eyes scanned my face, patient but intense.

“I suppose I just want it to be clear what we’re doing tonight,” I admitted at length. “I’m a bit thrown by what you’ve told me.”

Her forehead relaxed in understanding and she pushed her head back into the pillow a bit to see me better. “About Paul.”

“And your reaction after of running headlong into sexual relationships.”