I narrow my eyes. “You never even asked. You just did it.”
“Correct.” He raises his hands in confusion. “I paid off a massive debt that was debilitating, fixing what Lachlan Resorts fucked up. Because I don’t want there to be any obstacles between us being together. And I guess I was expecting more than a furrowed brow as a thank you.”
“You think money solves everything?”
He smirks. “It solves a helluva lot.”
I stand, annoyed beyond belief. “This is clearly not fate. And it certainly is not more than that. Because love listens. And you, Ronan, aren’t listening to me. You aren’t listening to anything.”
“Then tell me what you what to say, because, Bella, I’m right here.”
I stand in the doorway, ready to run. Again. Clearly, this man and I are nothing more than lust, because the moment we start having actual conversations we’re ready to claw one another’s eyes out.
“It’s more than just my father who got hurt, Ronan. A lot of people in this town were affected too.”
“I’m not the man they hate. I just inherited that man’s house. I don’t even share his last name, for Christ’s sake. You’re the one who isn’t listening to me.”
I stop. My eyes widen.
“You aren’t a Lachlan?”
Ronan looks offended beyond repair. “No. I’m not. My mother was married to one. And I ran some of the business overseas—in the French mountains. But I have no fucking clue what was happening here. You’d know that if you listened for a minute instead of running away, scared all the time.”
“Oh.” My stomach twists in knots. I did assume the worst. I didn’t listen for a moment and then ran away. Not once, but twice.
What am I so scared of?
“Oh, is right.” He looks at me with such wounded eyes I wonder if there is more to his story. What am I missing?
Because right now it looks like I am missing an awful lot.
“Doesn’t matter though, right? This isn’t fate, is it, Bella? It’s just sex, remember?”
I bite my bottom lip, not wanting to hurt him, but knowing I already have. I don’t know the words to say that will make this better. So, I stand there staring at him dumbly, knowing I’m hurting him even more because of it.
“Look,” he says, standing, though it pains him—clearly. He winces as he holds onto the back of a chair. “The storm has passed, and though your car is buried, my truck can get you home.” Then with a gaze that could freeze a river, he adds, “I know you have a party to attend.”
“The party... It doesn’t matter... I want...”
But he walks past me, and I know his leg isn’t the thing I’ve wounded. It’s his pride.
Only thing is, I never meant to hurt him.
And now I want to find a way to heal him. Even if it’s the last thing he wants from me.Chapter ElevenRonanI know money doesn’t solve everything, especially when I’m dealing with a woman as hot-headed as Bella.
But damn, I never meant to offend her.
And the fact that she assumed the worst of me, kills me.
I know I can’t solve everything by writing a check. And maybe that’s what Bella was trying to tell me, that this problem deserves more than a transaction. Only thing is, neither of us could hear one another. We are both so quick to act that we aren’t able to listen.
And hell, I do want to listen to her.
I want all of her.
I pick up my phone, she may think this is a complicated hurdle we can’t get over but she’s wrong.
I’ll do anything to have her.
But the thing I want most in this moment is to make her proud.
I’ll open a ski resort, but it won’t be a Lachlan-owned one. I will use my inheritance to build a place that will help this entire town’s economy—not just for Bella’s father—but for all of us. After all, I need something to work toward myself—to labor over, to love.
And there’s nothing more perfect than putting down roots on the mountain my mother loved.
The mountain my Bella calls home.
----Several hours later, after showering and attempting to dress my own wounds, I go looking for Bella.
I know she wants to leave, so maybe she’s already packed and waiting at the door. Looking down the large staircase though, I see the foyer is empty.
Walking down the corridor, I stop in her chamber but see that room is empty too. Also, her bag is packed and at the foot of her bed. Not a good sign, even if it’s one I should expect.
Finally, though, I find her.
She’s in my mother’s library, under a fuzzy blanket with a book in hand. I stand in the doorway watching her for a moment, realizing she is enraptured with whatever it is she is reading.
Very enraptured.
One of her hands holds the book open, the other hand is under the blanket, moving quickly. She closes her eyes, the book falling into her lap, and her other hand moves below the blanket. Now her arm is moving faster, and I can just imagine her clit, throbbing as she rubs circles around her hood. She gasps, her thighs moving apart, and her hands create friction as she whimpers from her own touch.