Always Will: A Bad Boy Romance by Claire Kingsley Page B

the VI sale went through. So yes, it’s just you and me.”
    Three days in Denver with Ronan. Alone. Well, not really alone. We’ll be at a conference with thousands of people.
    I sit back in my seat. “Well, this should be interesting.”
    “It will, won’t it?” He reaches over and plucks a piece of lint off my sweater, right at the neckline. “So tell me, do your rules apply if we’re out of town, and there are no coworkers present?”
    “Yes,” I say, my voice firm. “They apply even more.”
    Ronan grins at me again and settles back into his seat. He’s surprisingly subdued for the rest of the flight. We chat about work, but he stops making any advances on me. I wonder if he’s trying to lull me into a false sense of security, or if he’s actually backing off.
    We go our separate ways at the convention center, checking into our rooms at the adjacent hotel. Conference sessions begin that afternoon, and after perusing the program, I decide on a few that look interesting. I glance at my phone as I walk to my first session, wondering if I should text Ronan and see where he is. In the end, I don’t. If we run into each other, that’s one thing, but I shouldn’t encourage him.
    The convention is sizable, with an attendance in the thousands. I’ve gone the past several years, and I always find it a good use of my time. My first session is one of the large meeting rooms and I find a seat off to one side. I glance back at the door a few times. What am I looking for? Do I really think Ronan is going to coincidentally choose the same session as me?
    I don’t see Ronan for the rest of the afternoon. There’s a buffet dinner for conference attendees, and I grab a bite, although I’m not very hungry. I listen to the final speaker of the day in the huge ballroom. Ronan is probably here somewhere, but I don’t see him in the crowd.
    Afterward, everyone files out. I’m about to go back to my room when I feel a hand on my elbow. Ronan smiles at me and leads me out of the press of people.
    “How was your afternoon?” he asks.
    “Good,” I say. “Not a bad start. My second session was an absolute snore-fest, but the others were interesting.”
    “Yeah, I walked out of my first session. The rest weren’t bad.” He looks down at his hand, as if he just realized he’s still touching my arm. “How about we get a drink over at the hotel?”
    I take half a step back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    He puts his hands up. “Honestly, I’m not playing games. It’s been a long day. I’m tired and I’d like to get a drink. It would be nice to not be alone.”
    I almost hate to admit it, but I feel the same way. My feet are killing me, but it’s not even eight o’clock. The thought of spending the rest of my night alone in my hotel room isn’t very appealing. “All right.”
    “Besides, it’s not like I can pick up women while I’m here,” he says with a grin. “I can’t violate the rules.”
    I smile and shake my head.
    He keeps his hand on the small of my back as we walk to our hotel. I know I should tell him to keep his hands to himself, but I like the way it feels. My mind starts to drift to what it would feel like to have his hands on my skin. We are fifteen hundred miles away from any of my coworkers…
    We get to the bar and find a small table. I take a deep breath. I need to stop indulging in those kinds of thoughts.
    The waitress brings our drinks, setting them on little white napkins. We talk for a while about the conference—interesting things we learned, people we met. After we finish our drinks, the waitress brings more.
    “So, did you grow up in Seattle?” he asks.
    “I did. I actually still live in the house I grew up in. What about you?”
    “Stockton, California,” he says. “My folks still live there. You have a brother, is that right?”
    I look at him for a second, narrowing my eyes. I can’t tell if he’s trying to pull something, or just interested in learning