Page 14 of Save Me (The Wolf Hotel Mermaid Beach #2)

R onan pulls his sleek car into a spot in the shade outside the hotel. “You good?”

“Debatable.” I’m about to lose the battle I’ve been fighting with my nerves all afternoon since I retrieved this dress from its garment bag. “How is this going to play out? What name are we going with? Ann or Sarah, or …”

He cuts the engine. “You’re into role-playing? Is that your bag?”

“No, but it’s probably better if you don’t introduce me as, you know, the ‘crazy rooster commune lady.’” I air quote that ridiculous nickname. “Sloane is unique, but there are a million Sarahs. Or Avas. I’ve always loved that name. Or …”

He slides out of the driver’s seat without answering.

I’m careful with the hem of my dress as I climb out of my side, ever aware of the revealing slit that Ronan’s focus snagged on earlier. I could feel his hot breath on my skin as he was crouching to collect my purse. It was nearly my undoing, and less than minute after I declared a no-sex night.

I am doomed with this man—absolutely zero control—a reality I am aware of but continue to deny like a fool.

A row of luxury cars lines up next to us. A Porsche 911, a Viper, another Porsche, a Jag. “Seriously, what kind of dinner is this?” I ask.

Ronan rounds his bumper. “Mostly friends. It’s supposed to be casual. Whatever that means with these people.”

“ These people ?” I guess they’re not Ronan’s people. Where did he come from, besides Indianapolis?

“Yeah, rich-from-birth elite, trust fund brats. Except for Abbi. And as far as introducing you as anyone other than who you are, there’s no point. Henry will recognize you.”

I frown. “How? We’ve never met.”

He shakes his head, his laugh derisive. “Never assume he doesn’t know everything about everyone in the room.”

“That’s creepy.”

“It sounded worse than it is. I just mean he has an investigator on retainer.”

“An investigator? Henry Wolf had me investigated?” I don’t know why that’s shocking.

Ronan exhales heavily. “This is not going well.”

“No, it’s really not.”

“Listen.” He steps forward and settles his hands on my biceps, his thumbs gently stroking my skin.

It’s a gesture that’s likely meant to soothe but instead stirs my pulse.

“He had his people do some digging, given your, how should I call it—” His plump lips twist with a hint of amusement.

“—passionate opposition to the hotel. He knows what you look like, which is why he didn’t want me anywhere near you.

” His eyes scan my face. “He knew I wouldn’t be able to resist you. ”

“What does it matter, though, if we’re together? The hotel is built. The damage is done.” Why did it matter in the first place?

“It doesn’t. If he doesn’t like it, fuck him. Anyway, I told Abbi about us, and she really wants to meet you.”

Hearing Ronan say the word us makes a flutter stir in my chest and pushes aside any little red flags that I sense waving in my subconscious.

But I still have doubts. “So, you’re not worried about Henry firing you anymore.”

“Nah, he’s all talk. And if I’m wrong, oh well. It’s just a job. I can find another one.”

“Another one like this one?” I have no idea what he did to get his position here, but it can’t be a dime-a-dozen role.

He’s staying in a beach mansion, dressed in pricey clothes, and driving a sports car.

If he isn’t one of “these people,” it means this job is spoiling him.

“Are you always this reckless about important things in your life?”

Ronan collects my chin between his thumb and his index finger. “No, I just have my priorities straight and will never choose a fucking hotel—or any job—over important people.” His gaze is penetrating as he leans in to kiss me softly on the lips. “Ready?” he whispers when he pulls away.

I nod, because I can’t seem to find words.

I am pregnant with this man’s baby. This irresponsible, possibly brainless, most likely soon-to-be unemployed manwhore.

And I think I’m swooning.

“There’s one familiar face for you.” Ronan juts his chin toward the concierge desk, where a broad-shouldered blond man leans over the counter, chatting with the woman standing behind it.

“Huh. I barely recognize him without his board shorts.” Connor is transformed by upscale dress clothes that hug his muscular body in all the right places. He looks good. If I didn’t know what a buffoon he is, he’d earn more than a second’s glance from me.

“Yeah, he’s a brute, but he can clean up. Con!” he calls out.

Connor peers over his shoulder at us, his blue eyes snagging on my plunging neckline for a few beats. With a pat against the desk and a wink for the woman, he strolls toward us, a slight limp to his step. “Ahoy, Captain,” Connor says by way of greeting.

I’m about to respond with a simple hello, but then he envelops me in his beefy arms until I’m smothered against his chest with my arms pinned between us and inhaling a potent citrus-and-leather cologne.

This is a completely inappropriate and ridiculous greeting—I barely know the guy, and he’s acting like we’re long-lost pals—and yet I find myself laughing as I endure.

“Fuck, you smell good, Cap.” Connor inhales.

“Okay. You can let her breathe now,” Ronan chides.

I press my hand against his hard middle, and he eases up on his death grip, allowing me to break free. “How’s the knee?”

“A little sore after being on it all day.” He bends his leg as if in proof.

“Nothing like poor Katie, though. She’s gonna be on crutches for a bit.

They should be landing in Miami right about now,” he adds, checking his watch.

“Good thing Kyle’s with them to help with the luggage.

Why she packed all that shit for three days is beyond me.

She was in a bikini the entire time anyway. ”

Connor might be an ignorant meatball, as Ryan put it, but he’s a meatball who cares for his friends. “Yeah, I heard. I called Ryan earlier to check in.”

“You did?” Ronan’s eyebrows arch with surprise.

“Of course. It was the right thing to do.” Even if Katie wasn’t the reason I did it.

“And what’d she tell you?”

“Basically what Connor just said. Plus, that she’s writing the Sea Witch a glowing review.”

The corner of Ronan’s mouth twitches. “Anything else?”

“Why? What else could she have told me?” There’s a playful challenge in my voice.

He shrugs. “Who knows? She’s related to this bigmouth.” He jerks his chin toward Connor. “I never know what’s going to come out of his trap. Was she sober?”

I chuckle. “I don’t think she’ll be drinking again for a while.”

“Oh, yeah.” Connor grimaces as if remembering the unfortunate turn of events on Sunday. “I made her clean that bathroom.”

“She probably cleaned the whole house before they left anyway,” Ronan throws in.

“I hope she folded those towels I left on the couch.” Connor rubs a palm over his jaw. “Damn, I miss living with her.”

I shake my head. “You guys live like frat boys, don’t you?”

“Why don’t you come over tonight and see for yourself?” Connor’s gaze shines with a mixture of curiosity and something I can’t identify.

I’d assume it was an innocent invitation if I didn’t know what these two have gotten into in the past. Is he hoping Ronan will share me?

Would Ronan share me with his friend?

My stomach tightens with unease at that thought. “Maybe another time.”

“Come on, you gotta. Wolf set us up with a killer pad. Four-story house right on the beach. Pool, rooftop patio. It’s mint.”

“He set me up,” Ronan corrects. “You are a squatter.”

“And I shall reap the benefits. Opal Reef?” Connor asks, backing away.

“Seraphina’s first. Cocktails for sunset.”

“Okay, then let’s roll. I’m fucking famished.” Connor pats his stomach and the washboard abs I know are hiding under there.

“You’re always famished,” Ronan says.

“You should be happy I’m so predictable.” He aims for a lengthy hallway .

I smile at their easy banter. Maybe Connor’s invitation was innocent and I’m imagining things. I shouldn’t assume he’s attracted to me, even though he’s an incessant flirt and as smooth as butter on a hot day.

Cody joked a few times about inviting Rebel or Skye into our bed. I should have caught the red flags, but that’s beside the point. My answer was always an abrupt no, followed by a fight. No, I wasn’t willing to share him.

He never suggested bringing another man in—to share me. I can’t even wrap my head around that.

How many of the women Ronan and Connor end up with have never considered the possibility until they find themselves facing these two? They’re charming and easygoing, the vibe around them warm and inviting. Add in a few drinks, and how many would decline?

Would I, honestly?

A mental picture hits me then as my imagination takes off in sordid directions of where this night could end, and a furious flush heats my cheeks.

“You good?” Ronan settles a hand at the small of my bare back, the heat of his touch sending a warm shiver along my spine.

“Yeah. Great.” Though I’m beginning to wish I were completely clueless about these two and their extracurricular activities.

We fall into step with Connor, me sandwiched between the two tall pillars of easy confidence as we stroll.

I take in the arched ceilings with tropical plant leaves painted in murals over them, and the marble floors, and the stone water fountain that spouts water from a mermaid’s mouth.

The décor is rich and lush; every detail appears painstakingly considered.

Even the air smells expensive—of Japanese cherry blossoms.

“Not bad, right?” Ronan asks as if reading my mind.

I shrug it off with an “It’s all right.” No way will I be caught dead admiring this place.

I will admit to myself, though, I may have cursed every day of this build and prayed for spontaneous fires, termites, even a hurricane to tear it down, but as I walk along the corridor, it would be a luxurious hotel to stay in.