Dead Perfect

Page 13

She breathed an audible sigh of relief when the plane was safely on the ground.
They collected their bags and found a taxi. An hour later, Shannah was drinking a Coke in her hotel room. She would have her first book signing tomorrow night at an exclusive bookstore in West Hollywood. It was a good thing Ronan would be there with her, she thought, because she knew she would be a nervous wreck without him. In spite of all his assurances to the contrary, she still wasn’t sure she could carry this off.
She glanced in his direction. He stood at the window, gazing out into the darkness. She wondered what he was thinking about. Was he, too, having second thoughts about her ability?
“I can’t believe we’re really here,” she remarked. “Have you been to Los Angeles before?”
“Once or twice.” It hadn’t been called Los Angeles then, and California hadn’t been a state. It had been a beautiful place in those days, the air clean and sweet, the sky blue instead of brown with smog, wide dirt roads instead of clogged freeways. Progress wasn’t always a good thing.
“It’s late,” he said. “You should get some sleep.”
She smothered a yawn. “I think you’re right.”
“I won’t be here in the morning,” he said, moving toward the door that connected his room to hers.
“Why not? Where are you going?”
“I’ve got some business to take care of.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. Sleep late. Go sight-seeing if you like, or spend the day out by the pool.”
“You’ll be back in time for the signing?”
“Of course. And don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”
She nodded, though she still had doubts.
Retracing his steps, he drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Sleep well, Shannah.”
She smiled up at him. “Good night, Ronan.”
“Good night, love.”
She stared after him as he left the room. Love. He had called her love. Warmth spread through her. Had he meant it? Or was it just a term of endearment, like “honey” and “sweetie” or any of a hundred other expressions of affection?
Love. Not long ago, she had been certain she would never fall in love again. It was too much trouble. Too time-consuming. Too painful when it was over. She had loved and lost and she had decided that, in the future, it would be better not to love at all. And then she had gotten sick and she didn’t have the time or the energy to think about love or anything other than surviving from day to day.
But all that had been before she met Ronan. He was unlike any man she had ever known. She guessed he was probably in his mid-thirties, though he seemed older than his years. He was certainly older than any man she had ever dated…
Dated. The word made her giggle. They weren’t dating, exactly, she thought. Mainly, he was teaching her how to be his alter ego. Still, there were those devastating, mind-boggling, soul-shattering kisses. It was for certain no one had ever kissed her like he did. Not even Billy Ray.
Until Ronan kissed her, she would have said no man in the world kissed better than that swine, Billy Ray. Just proved how wrong a girl could be, she thought, grinning.
Just thinking about Ronan’s kisses made her toes curl inside her shoes. Kicking off her heels, she went into the bathroom where she soaked in a hot bubble bath while her wicked imagination pictured Ronan in the tub with her, washing her back, nuzzling her neck…
With a shake of her head, she stepped out of the tub, dried off, and slipped into her nightgown.
She was making far too much out of one endearment.
But she was still smiling when she fell asleep.
Ronan strolled along the dark streets, shielding his presence from those he passed along the way. It was relaxing, wandering through the city alone, especially after being confined inside an airplane. All those beating hearts. Warm bodies. Rivers of blood, each with a taste and texture of its own. The urge to feed, to gorge himself on the bounty before him, had been almost more than he could bear. He lived a solitary life most of the time. When he felt the need for company, he did what any man did, he went to one of the singles bars or one of the Goth hangouts and surrounded himself with music and people, and when he felt the need for feminine companionship, he found a woman who knew the score. His needs were few and simple. He had grown accustomed to his life and his lifestyle, had been content to live alone, until Shannah wandered up his driveway one afternoon and knocked on his door. Since the moment he had looked into her eyes, nothing in his life had been the same.
He walked the streets until the stars began to fade and then he found a deserted stretch of ground. He stood there, staring up at the sky, until a familiar tingle spread through his body, warning him of dawn’s approach. With a sigh, he burrowed deep into the earth as the first hint of the sun’s golden light heralded the dawn of a new day.
Chapter Ten
It was late afternoon when Shannah woke. She stayed in bed for several minutes, enjoying the luxury of having nothing to do. Luxury. It was something that had been sorely missing from her life until she met Ronan. Now it seemed as if her every wish had been granted. Her health was good. She had more clothes, and better clothes, than she had ever had before. She was in a posh room in a swanky hotel. She had cash in her wallet, given to her by a handsome man, and a whole day to do just as she pleased. It reminded her of the movie Pretty Woman. Ronan was Richard Gere and she was Julia Roberts.
Rising, she called room service and ordered breakfast. She took a long shower, washed her hair, then wrapped up in one of the fluffy hotel robes. She ate quickly, dressed, and called for a cab.
It was waiting for her when she went downstairs. Slipping on her sunglasses, she left the hotel.
She spent the day doing her best Julia Roberts impersonation. She went to an exclusive Beverly Hills salon and had a manicure and a facial, and then she spent several hours exploring the chic dress shops on Rodeo Drive. She bought two dresses, a gauzy white skirt and a peasant blouse, a gray cashmere sweater, and three pairs of shoes. Passing a men’s shop, she went inside and bought a tie (black, of course) for Ronan. She didn’t know him well enough, or have nerve enough, to be wearing nothing but the tie ala Julie Roberts’s character when she saw him in the hotel that night, but it made her feel daring to buy it just the same.
The book signing was scheduled for eight p.m. At five, she returned to the hotel and ordered a lobster dinner with all the trimmings, only to find that she was too nervous to eat it.
She had just finished dressing when there was a knock on the connecting door.
She had tried it earlier, only to find it locked from Ronan’s side. It opened now, revealing Ronan clad in a pair of black trousers, a white shirt open at the throat, and a black silk jacket.
“Lordy,” she murmured, “you look good enough to eat.”
His gaze moved over her. “As do you.”
“Here,” she said, handing him a long, narrow box, “I bought you a present.”
He lifted one brow as he took the box from her hand and lifted the lid. A slow smile curved his lips as he withdrew the tie. It was black, with a tiny wolf’s head embroidered in silver near the bottom.
“I don’t know why, but it reminded me of you,” she said. “Do you like it?”
“Very much.”
“You don’t have to wear it,” she said as he slipped it around his neck. “I just wanted to buy you something.”
“But I want to wear it.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had received a gift. The fact that it was from Shannah made it all the more special. “How does it look?”
“Perfect,” she said.Just like you.
Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She looked up at him. “I’m so nervous. I don’t think I can do this. I’ve forgotten everything you told me, everything I memorized.” She tapped her forehead with her fingertip. “Poof! Just like that, it’s gone.”
He laughed softly. “It will all come back to you, trust me.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“You’re not there to answer a lot of questions. Just to sign books.”
“But people are sure to ask me…”
“Shannah.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes. “Relax, Shannah. You’ll be fine. I’ll be there with you. There’s nothing to worry about. They’re going to love you.”
She stared up at him, mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze, calmed by the tone of his voice and his words of assurance. He was right, of course. She had nothing to worry about. She knew all the answers. She had read his books. She was ready.
“Shall we go?” he asked.
“Might as well,” she said, grinning, “since we’re all dressed up.”
They took a taxi to the bookstore.
The manager came forward to greet them. “I’m Blanche DeVries,” she said, offering her hand to Shannah. “And you must be Eva Black.”
“Yes. And this is my…this is Ronan.”
The manager’s smile widened as she shook his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Ronan.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he said, bowing over her hand.
Blanche DeVries blushed to the roots of her dyed red hair. “If you’ll follow me, we’ve set up a table back here.”
Shannah followed the woman to a table that had been set up in the middle of the store near the romance section. Ronan’s latest novel was available, as well as several of his older books.
There was a small vase of flowers on a long cloth-covered table, as well as a water glass and bottle of Perrier. Stacks of his current book were arranged at the end of the table. Another, smaller table held soft drinks, a plate of cookies, a coffee urn, Styrofoam cups, and a bowl of mints.
“We’re so happy you could make it,” the manager said as Shannah took her seat. “Is there anything I can get for you?”