Page 78 of Illusive
Ronan’s heart was pounding so fiercely, it felt like he’d run all the way back to her building. “Walk as quietly as you can to the door and look now. Make sure he’s alone.”
“You’re scaring me,” she whispered, her lips colorless.
“Forgive me. I just need to be sure you’re safe.”
She lowered her phone again and did as he asked. Then he heard the door open and Chris Vidal’s voice. “Hang on a second, Dad.”
He exhaled harshly, returning the receiver to its cradle.
Ireland’s face filled the screen again, her cheeks now a soft pink. “It’s just him.”
“I’ll let you go,” he said. “But you need to find out why you weren’t notified. That’s unacceptable.”
“I’ll ask.” The return of her smile was like sunshine. “See you soon, you sexy Cajun beast.”
She blew him a kiss before ending the call, and Ronan sank back into his chair, his thoughts full of her and all he must do to gain peace of mind. It was also evident that hischerwas extremely fragile. Her emotions were swinging between extremes, from too brightly cheerful to paralyzed with fear within the space of a heartbeat, and back again.
The door to his office opened abruptly, and Jules filled the doorway again. “The police have checked in downstairs. I told security to send them up to the offices.”
Ronan sobered. “That was quick.”
Leaving the door open, Jules entered and stopped in front of the desk. “Scarlett is what you need,gros bête. If you gave her your attention and care, she would make you the happiest of men.”
“I couldn’t be less interested in pursuing a relationship with Scarlett.”
“I don’t understand that. At all.”
“Ireland Vidal is the most gorgeous woman alive,” he said absently, speaking his thoughts aloud. “She’s funny, irreverent, intelligent, fierce, too sexy for my own good, and somehow has the humility of someone who doesn’t realize she’s perfect.”
And the thought of her suffering or fearing anything at all stirred something fiercely primitive inside him.
Jules rolled his eyes. “As if the same couldn’t be said of Scarlett, a woman who’s far more compatible with your life and sensibilities.”
“Scarlett is absolutely aware of her beauty,” he drawled, running through a checklist in his mind. “And while I’m quite fond of her, I’ve never found myself thinking of her when she’s not present.”
“You’re missing a screw or something,” Jules muttered, crossing his arms.
Ronan’s fingers drummed on the armrests of his chair. “I’m beginning to resent everyone’s inability to be happy for me—especially when I’m feeling energized and excited by a dynamic woman who, by some miracle, feels something similar for me.”
“Women have always fallen at your feet. Pick someone who won’t get you thrown back in jail or otherwise destroy the life we’ve worked so hard to build.”
“Are you sharing notes with Claudy? She said almost the exact same thing to me.” He shrugged. “Maybe it won’t last, but everyone betting against us only makes me dig my heels in deeper.”
Jules looked heavenward, as if praying for patience. “Obstinacy is most definitely one of your flaws.”
Ronan’s desk phone rang, and he answered, “McCaffrey.”
“Hi, Mr. McCaffrey. This is reception. There are two NYPD detectives here who want to speak with you.”
“You can direct them to my office. Thanks.” Hanging up, he looked at Jules. “Ready?”
Jules set his hands on his hips. “Claudy and I warned you this could happen. Scarlett would never put you in this position.”
“Whether I was here or at home, the authorities would naturally investigate anyone who’d been hostile to the Vidals or Cross. This just speeds things up. And I have questions of my own to ask.”
Jules rounded the desk and stood beside him. The detectives appeared a moment later, a petite woman of Asian heritage and an extremely large Latino man who towered over her. Theyboth wore blazers and dress slacks, and they both eyed him with hard, flat, knowing gazes that told him they knew his background. Ronan’s hackles rose, and he knew it was vital to tread cautiously.
He stood. “Detectives. I’m Ronan McCaffrey Boudreaux. This is my brother, Jules Robichaux.”
