Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
He'd spent those quiet hours studying her. The delicate arch of her brows. The way her chest rose and fell with each breath. The vulnerability that softened her features in sleep—a stark contrast to the defensive mask she wore while awake.
And now, catching her staring at him as she woke, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of something dangerously close to possessiveness.
"Enjoying the view, darling?" he taunted, enjoying the way her eyes flashed with indignation.
Ronan knew he was being deliberately provocative. It went against every protocol in the Initiative's handbook. His job was to observe, to facilitate her transition, to ensure she stayed in Hartland once she arrived. Nothing more.
But those rules had been written by men who hadn't met Acacia Greenway in person.
Her attempt to pay him back for the ticket amused him. As if $150 meant anything to him. As if money was what he wanted from her.
"How about we agree to call a truce," he offered instead, "and I'll consider your debt fully paid."
He watched as she put her money away, a small victory. Her willingness to talk about Hartland was another. But when he asked about the reason for her coldness, he saw the walls come up instantly. Thick, impenetrable barriers designed to keep everyone—especially men like him—at a safe distance.
It only made him more determined to breach them.
The sound of her stomach growling had been a welcome distraction. Physical needs were always easier to address than emotional ones. He'd taken his time selecting food for her, using the opportunity to observe how she responded to simple kindness. The confusion on her face told him everything he needed to know about her past relationships.
"I was wondering if I should just say it."
He'd seen the sauce at the corner of her mouth for several minutes before mentioning it, waiting for the perfect moment. When he finally reached across to wipe it away, the jolt of electricity between them confirmed what he already suspected. This wasn't just chemistry. This was something more powerful. More dangerous.
Her laugh when he asked about ice cream had been unexpected. A genuine, unguarded moment that transformed her face and sent something hot and urgent racing through his blood.
That sound. He wanted to hear it again. Wanted to be the cause of it. Wanted to discover what other sounds she might make under different circumstances...
Ronan leaned back in his seat, making a show of relaxing, but his mind was racing. The Initiative's plans for Acacia had been clear. Simple. Straightforward.
But now he was considering alternatives. Complications. Possibilities.
Hartland can wait, he thought as he watched her trying not to watch him. We have twenty-six hours ahead of us.
Twenty-six hours to learn what made her tick.
Twenty-six hours to discover her weaknesses, her desires, her fears.
Twenty-six hours to make her his.
As the bus rolled through the darkening landscape, Ronan reached for his phone and composed a quick message to the Initiative's command center:
Subject en route. ETA Laramie 11:00 tomorrow. Proceeding according to plan.
It wasn't entirely a lie. They were indeed heading to Laramie. She would indeed reach Hartland.
But the plan? That had already changed the moment he'd first seen her bite her lip.
"So," he said, setting his phone aside and focusing his full attention on the woman across from him. "You never did answer my question about ice cream."
Chapter Four
"COOKIES AND CREAM," I answer, against my better judgment. What am I doing engaging with this man?
"Really?" His eyebrows rise slightly, his lips quirking in that infuriating half-smile. "I would've pegged you for vanilla."
The way he says it—like he's implying something about my personality—makes me bristle. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing at all, darling." He stretches the word 'darling' with that drawl of his. "Just making conversation."
"Stop calling me that," I snap, my patience wearing thin. "We're not friends, and we're certainly not... anything else."
His amber eyes gleam with amusement. "What should I call you then?"
"Nothing."
His smile widens. "Acacia then."
My eyes widen. "How did you—-"
"I took a look at the passenger list." He admits this so easily I'm not sure whether to feel amused or alarmed.
"Would you like to know what to call me?"
"Not really."
"Trust me, you will."
Why does this man sound so confident about it?
"And it's Ronan, by the way."
"I didn't ask," I snap.
"You don't have to," he says solemnly. "A true gentleman always knows how to anticipate a lady's needs."
His gaze dips low as he says this, and I'm mortified to feel my flesh swelling in response.
Sheep!
I burst to my feet in sudden and desperate need for distance. The farther I can get away from this infuriating man, the better.
But before I can take another step, he's suddenly blocking my way, and I glare up at him. "What the heck's your problem?"
"Are you trying to run away from me?"
"All I'm trying to do," I say between clenched teeth, "is to get to the restroom, so please don't flatter yourself."