“Willow?” he prompted.

I sighed. “No. I love painting, but I’m not an artistic genius, just moderately good, so I can’t support myself financially with it. When I finished school, I tried for a while, but I floundered. Then Tom needed help and I needed money for rent, so I decided to join the family company.”

His dark brows furrowed. “You needed money? Excuse me for saying this, but I always assumed you were well taken care of.”

“Yes, well, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” I wasn’t about to explain how Tom had siphoned off the majority of my trust fund while I’d been blissfully oblivious.

His frown deepened. Apparently, he didn’t like getting the brush-off. “Do you have your own place now?”

I inwardly cringed. The fact he hadn’t asked about Dad’s properties probably meant he knew they’d all been sold off.

“I rent an apartment with my best friend.”

“What’s she like?”

I hid a smile. How best to describe Sage? “She’s eccentric, and I absolutely adore her for it. She has the biggest heart of anyone I know.” Was that awareness in his deep brown eyes? Or was I going crazy because I’d dreamed of him looking at me that way so many times before? “Are you coming tonight?” I blurted, immediately regretting it. “To The Castle, I mean. I was told there are after-work drinks.”

Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “The staff find it easier to let loose when the boss isn’t there, so I don’t go to any gatherings unless they’re something we’ve organized as a company.”

“Oh.” Dissatisfaction weighed on me. What was that about? I should be glad he wasn’t coming so I could ask more probing questions. “That makes sense.”

“Be careful tonight.” He looked at me in a way that would have made my teenage self swoon. “I doubt you have much experience with the type of people who go to The Castle.”

“I’ll be surrounded by bodyguards,” I reminded him. “I’m sure I’ll be safe.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe it’s them I’m worried about.”

Chapter Eight

Ronan

I stared at the computer screen, words and numbers blurring together, then rubbed my eyes and glanced outside. Night had descended over the city, and it was a cold one. I hoped Willow had brought a jacket with her to The Castle.

Willow.

I couldn’t seem to get the damn woman out of my mind. Her pert little nose. The sound of her voice. The way she moved through the hallways like she was gliding on air. I couldn’t have been the only one to notice her. She was a magnet for men—not that she seemed to realize it. She was either naive or skilled at pretending. I tended to believe it was the former. She’d been sheltered all her life. First by her father, then by her brother. She probably had no idea what her pouty, pink lips made men think about.

I buried my face in my palms and growled.

Work. Get back to work.