Unscripted Read online

  It occurred to me that it was Thursday now, which meant I had only two days more with Ronan before he left to go back to his home in Los Angeles. I didn’t know when he was coming back or if he was even coming back. Yes, he’s coming back. He just has to.

  An overwhelming sadness came over me and I started to cry.

  I really need to get this crying shit under control.

  Ronan heard my soft sobs. I tried to choke them back. He nuzzled my cheek, tipping my chin back towards him as he brushed his firm lips across mine. An ache trembled inside me, sending a shiver up my spine.

  “Hey… hey… shhh,” he instructed quietly while rocking me gently. “Holliday, why are you crying?”

  “I… I’m sorry, Ronan. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just got really sad thinking about you leaving.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, please don’t cry. I can’t take it.” He paused, placing soft kisses down my neck. “You don’t think you can come with me, huh?”

  Propping myself up on my elbow, I turned to face him. He ran his finger down the length of my face, sweeping my bangs back across my forehead because they had fallen, covering my eyes.

  “I want to come with you, I do, but I think you should spend time alone with the girls. They aren’t used to sharing you when you’re all together. Plus, I think I should spend some time with my own niece and nephew. They probably don’t know what to think about me not being home.”

  Ronan twisted my loose curls around his index finger, listening attentively, those beautiful green eyes shifting to intensity. I felt like they were piercing straight through to my soul.

  “Holliday, sleep and we can discuss this later. I don’t want you feeling sad, not today and not ever.”

  I flipped back to my side, and Ronan pulled me into him, wrapping me up with his arms and legs. We fit together like two puzzle pieces, my bottom in his lap and his chin resting between my neck and shoulder. I could hear him lightly breathing, and feel his warm breath against my neck. I fell asleep to the rhythm of his heart beating strong and steady against my back. I felt safe. I felt loved. No, it’s much, much too soon for that. I was tangled up in a fantasy dream world with a hot movie star. The real world waited, and that would be the true test of our romantic fate.

  “Wake up, my beauty.” I could feel Ronan’s hand running the length of my arm.

  He was freshly showered. His scent was intoxicating, clean and a little musky, like vanilla and cedar wood. It must have been a new cologne, but I liked it. I turned my head to spy him sitting on the edge of the bed fully clothed.

  While I did adore him in all his naked glory, I think I enjoyed him more clothed. He dressed incredibly well. It must have been true, what lingerie was to men… that was how women felt about a man in a suit. This morning he was dressed in dark denim jeans with a crisp white shirt under a charcoal grey vest and matching suit jacket.

  “Well hello, sharply dressed man,” I teased.

  “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  I rolled up from under the covers, leaning my body against the padded cream-colored headboard, stretching my arms above my head. “As well as I could. Where are you off to looking so handsome this morning?”

  “I have a few meetings and a couple errands to run. It will take a few hours. Sorry to leave you. Will you be all right by yourself?”

  “You know I did manage fine on my own before you bumped into my life, Ronan Connolly.” My reply was laced with sweet sarcasm. He arched an eyebrow in my direction. I knew he was confused, but someday I’d tell him about Leah bumping my arm in the lobby.

  Giving me an eye roll, Ronan pushed to his feet. “You’re funny this morning.” He straightened his jacket and ran his hands down the front, smoothing out the folds.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I was thinking of calling my sister and then hitting the gym,” I said as I drew up my knees, wrapping my arms around them.

  “The very thought of you getting hot and sweaty…” He growled a low moan in his throat. “That makes me hot.”

  Smiling innocently I let the blankets covering me fall to the bed, just to give him a lasting image of me looking tantalizing in silk champagne colored lace. He licked his bottom lip and shook his head sucking in a sharp breath.

  “Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Prescott?” he purred while straightening his cuffs and adjusting the silver Bvlgari watch on his wrist.

  “Maybe.” I hummed. “Is it working?”

  “Anything you do works a number on my libido. I’m not giving into your sexy feminine wiles. God knows I want to, but I have to make it to my meeting on time.” He cocked his head and winked at me.

  I knew he was referring to our tryst before the gala, but in all fairness he’d initiated it. I’d remind him of that later. I frowned, sticking my tongue out playfully.

  “Beauty, why don’t you just lay here naked and wait for me? When I get back I’ll be happy to fuck you so hard that you come undone over and over. You’ll be begging me to stop.”

  Christ! I’d definitely be hitting the gym.

  “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me, naked, just waiting around for you, begging to be taken on a moment’s notice, as if I had nothing better to do.”

  He nodded, “If I had my way, I’d have you naked and wet, begging for me to fuck you twenty-four, seven.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, “God, Ronan, you really have a way with words.”

  Pressing his lips to mine, he kissed me. “Okay, here’s a keycard. I hired a bodyguard the other day to look out for you when I’m not around. He’s here this morning. I’d like to introduce you to him before I leave. Can you put on something less…” He paused a beat. “…Tempting?” His mouth curved in to a cocky grin. “His name is Blake Foster. He’s ex-military. I programmed his number into your phone and mine.”

  I attempted to say something, but Ronan waved me off with his hand. When did he have time to hire a bodyguard? I assumed it was probably while I was getting pampered yesterday before the gala.

  “Do not go anywhere without him.”

  “Not even the bathroom,” I quipped.

  “Wow, you are on a comedy roll this morning, Miss Prescott.” He shot me an irritated look.

  “Really, Ronan? Is this totally necessary?” I wailed, yanking the keycard from his long fingers.

  “Holliday, do not fight me on this, please. When I’m not here, it will give me peace of mind knowing someone’s looking out for your safety and well-being.”

  “It’s a wonder how I survived twenty-six years on Earth.”

  “Don’t be smart,” he admonished. “I’m doing this more for me than I am for you.”

  That was nice of him to say, but I knew that was not completely true. I knew he was freaking out thinking my ex would come back for me and finish the job he’d started.

  “Fine,” I scoffed as I jumped out of bed, retrieving my clothing from the dresser. I pulled on my black leggings and grey USC t-shirt. “Is he at least good-looking? I’ve always wanted a sexy buff guy to watch over me. If I have to spend time with a man he should be good-looking.”

  Ronan stepped in front of me, encircling his arms around my waist. “My beauty, are you trying to make me jealous?”

  “Me? No. Not ever.” My tone was completely sarcastic, but I managed to give him a devious grin so he wouldn’t be too upset by my smart mouth.

  “Okay, enough. I’m tabling this conversation for later. Order room service if you want and charge it to me. Anything you want.”

  He bent to kiss me on the lips, caressing my tongue with his over and over. His hands were twisting my loose waves. He grasped the base of my throat, wrapping his long fingers around the nape of my neck. Shock waves rippled through my core right to my toes. I swear they actually curled up.

  Ronan released his grasp on my neck and pulled me out of the bedroom by my hand.

  After making our way upstairs, Ronan introduced me to Blake. He was very nice and surprisingly very good-looking. He was as t
all as Dean, broad shoulders with a trim physique, looking like he’d stepped out of an Armani ad rather than the military. Blake’s dark wavy hair was swept back off his forehead, hanging just above the collar of his black moto jacket. I noticed his eyes immediately, an icy cool blue. Why the fuck would Ronan hire a bodyguard for me that looks like a dreamy sex pot?

  Ronan kissed me goodbye and walked out the door. I felt alone, that type of loneliness that causes a chill to run up your spine. I needed coffee to warm me up. In the butler’s pantry, I found Ronan had made a fresh pot. I stood there sipping the delicious vanilla hazelnut blend, and it instantly warmed my belly. Glancing at my phone, I noticed I had several messages. One was from Charlotte telling me to call her immediately. There were several messages from people I hadn’t talked to in years and one from my college roommate, Amelia. What the hell is going on?

  My mind immediately retreated down into the darkest place, thinking someone had died. I pulled up Charlotte’s number and she answered on the first ring.

  “Hey sis, what’s going on?” I asked coolly.

  “Holliday, you’re splashed all over the tabloids this morning.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There are pictures of you climbing into and out of a limo at the Hawthorne Park Plaza. It’s all over the internet, pictures of you with Grady James, of Ronan Connolly kissing you on the cheek and countless other images. The headlines are my favorite. You look beautiful, just stunning.”

  “Thanks for saying that Char, you’re sweet. I don’t have my laptop here.”

  “Yeah you do. I know I packed it in your suitcase.”

  I went to the closet and found my laptop and charger along with some work stuff on the shelf. How did I overlook that? Oh, yeah maybe because I’d been doing nothing but screwing Ronan all week and thinking of nothing else.

  “Okay found it, gimme a few to boot it up.” My chest tightened as I felt my blood pumping vigorously through my body. I went to the bathroom to take my pill, as a precaution, and waited for my computer to start. “What do the headlines say, Charlotte?”

  “Ronan Connolly Spotted at Charity Gala with Charlotte Ricchetti Designs Executive, Holliday Prescott. Mom is going to flip her lid when she finds out you’re linked to Ronan Connolly.”

  “Mom, I don’t even want to imagine the mental wedding she’s planning in her head.” I laughed. “I’d hardly call myself an executive.”

  “Thanks for the headline and bringing attention to my company though,” she teased. “Holliday, that’s just one of dozens of headlines.”

  I did a search for my name, and sure as can be I was one of the top trending news stories. Rather, my relationship with Ronan was a top story. Crap!

  “Sis, this is going to spin out of control. Does Ronan know you have a past with Grady?”

  “No,” I answered sharply. “And I’d love to keep it that way. It was just a fling. It was never serious.”

  “Not that serious? Okay Holliday, if that’s the way you want to play it.”

  “Look Char, how do you think Ronan would feel knowing it was Grady who was the first man I opened up to about the rape? That Grady was the one who held me when I had nightmares and flashbacks. That it was Grady, who went to a friends and family therapy session with me? I will handle telling Ronan that information someday… if I need to.”

  “The tabloids say there is bad blood between Ronan and Grady.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that, too. Grady told me last night he thought Ronan was a first class jerk— he didn’t elaborate. Then Ronan told me to stay away from Grady.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “Nope, I didn’t have any time to ask any questions. Ronan was busy the entire night and then we had a fight. Then we had mind-blowing makeup sex.”

  I scanned the headlines, bookmarking my favorite ones.

  RONAN CONNOLLY HEATS UP COLD NIGHT IN NYC WITH HOT BRUNETTE

  FIVE THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT RONAN CONNOLLY’S NEW LADY, HOLLIDAY PRESCOTT

  IS RONAN CONNOLLY DATING FASHION EXECUTIVE HOLLIDAY PRESCOTT?

  The five things article was interesting. Apparently my favorite coffee was a vanilla soy latte from a café over in Soho— it’s so-ho not. I’d gone to this café once. My favorite food was Italian, especially Lorenzo’s on the Upper East Side. That was a lucky guess. Lucan was part owner.

  “Your life is rough these days, sis,” she huffed.

  “You’re the Park Avenue princess, not me. Remember?” I shot back playfully.

  “Oh right, yeah I am pretty lucky. Did I tell you that Lucan and I are flying off to Bora Bora while the girls stay with his parents in London?”

  “No! That is exciting, sis. When is this happening?” I asked and then took a sip of my coffee.

  “Yeah, I need to talk to you about that. We’re flying on the 23rd.”

  “Char, what the fuck?” I snapped. “Thanks for telling me. So we’re not having Christmas together this year?”

  “Sorry sis, I was thinking we can do Christmas together before we leave. It will be special. I promise. Four course Italian meal, plenty of booze and presents. Bring Ronan if you want. And you can drive the Maserati while we’re gone,” she pleaded with me. Then she dangled that hot fucking car, appealing to my need for speed. I couldn’t deny her a vacation— she worked too damn hard. They deserved a break, and I wouldn’t be bringing Ronan Connolly to meet the family over Christmas dinner. My sister was absurd.

  “Fine,” I scoffed. “I’ll see you this weekend. Ronan’s flying back to California on Friday.”

  “When’s he coming back to the city?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” I paused. “He asked me to give him Derek’s name. I told him no.”

  “What do you mean, sis?” Her tone was seething with anger. “Why does he want to know that sadistic fuck’s name?”

  “I think he just needs to know or see the guy’s face. I guess.”

  “Makes sense, men are weird creatures like that. You know it won’t take Ronan long now to find pictures of you and Derek right?”

  “Maybe, but all of these pictures from the event are linked to me by real name.”

  “Holliday, you should tell Ronan before he finds out on his own. Otherwise it will be a bigger fight than you want to deal with, because it will be a fight. You can’t keep something this huge from a well-connected movie star. Trust me, powerful men always find a way around things and they have their ways of obtaining information regular people cannot find.”

  Charlotte would know. Lucan had had a full on background check done before he’d started dating her. My sister obviously had passed his dating requirements checklist since they’ve been married for nearly four years. Lucan didn’t even care about her pervious drug use or our father’s untimely death and the emotional baggage that Charlotte carried with it. They were hopelessly in love— like sugary sweet with a cherry on top in love.

  They’d met when Lucan had attended a fashion show in Milan. He’d seen Charlotte elegantly gliding down the catwalk and had been so taken that he found a way to meet her after the show. Lucan had been smitten with her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, so he told it. Lucan swept Charlotte off her feet, and it hadn’t been long after that, that my sister left the modeling world behind at the age of twenty-five and started planning her Italian dream wedding in Ravello.

  “Holliday, I have to get to a meeting, but try to talk to Ronan okay? Love you. Ciao.”

  “Okay. Bye Char, love you too.”

  Before I knew it an hour had gone by. I was shamelessly wrapped up in reading every juicy morsel about myself on the Internet. I changed into my workout clothes and called Blake. He was waiting outside and dutifully escorted me to the gym. I guess he was allowed to work out with me if he wanted, but he didn’t. Could I talk to him? Were we allowed to be friends? I didn’t really know how all this bodyguard stuff worked.

  Blake was quiet most of the day. He told me he was from Texas, Dallas to be exa
ct, and had always wanted to be in the military. He was very careful not to disclose too much— he never even said which branch of the military. I wondered if Blake Foster was a special ops lethal killing machine, a trained assassin like Jason Bourne.

  An hour and thirty lunges later, I found myself enjoying lunch at the café downstairs of The York where I ate at a table by myself. Blake was seated nearby, reading a book while watching our surroundings with a keen eye. A scene flashed in my mind where ninjas dressed in black invaded the hotel, and Blake defended all of us with roundhouse kicks and punches to their faces, breaking bones and disarming their weapons. Several combative moves later the evil ninjas lay bloodied, some dead, and Blake was the hero. Women surrounded him frantically, relieved and thankful for his bravery. Blake waved them off. He only had eyes for one woman. His gaze locked on her, and she fell forward. He scooped up the pretty red-haired woman, carrying her off into the sunset. I smiled knowing that would be the plot to a great action thriller. Blake Foster: Ninja Destroyer. Okay, so the title needed work.

  Blake escorted me back to the penthouse where the door swung open to showcase Ronan with a team of decorators, busy turning the living room into a winter wonderland. Christmas music blared through the sound system. My jaw dropped open and I found myself in awe of the scene unfolding before my eyes.

  “Holliday, my beauty. Surprise!” Ronan shouted, practically giddy with excitement and bouncing towards me. He looked as happy as a child on a sugar high. Maybe he’d had a few too many coffees today. I looked back at Blake. His eyes grew wider as he grinned and shrugged his perfectly rounded shoulders. I saw how this worked. Giggling, I hooked my thumb over my shoulder and whispered to Blake, “Did you know?” He nodded at me and lightly jogged up the stairs before he could incriminate himself further.

  “Ronan, this is incredible. You even got a tree. How adorably festive of you.” I smiled, placing my iPod on the table. Scanning the room, I noticed strands of white lights and glittering silver and red bows. Clear vases were filled with cinnamon sticks, pine cones, fake snow and holly berries. Red and white candles were everywhere, held up on shiny silver holders. A cranberry wreath with a giant three-wick candle sat on the coffee table, and the prettiest shade of green garland dusted lightly with fake snow covered every doorframe. The penthouse looked like page twenty-two of the Crate and Barrel winter catalog. I loved it.