Ronan

Chapter Thirty-Six

Rosa headed to the kitchen, eager to see what gifts Elowyn had left behind. A hamper called to her attention on the breakfast bar. The warlock's bellow had her stilling before she could get to it.

He'd have sensed his Mother leaving by now.

She eyed up the hamper some more.

Later, I suppose.

Another bellow. By Gods, the warlock had gotten needy.

"Hold onto your tits. I'm back."

He glowered up at her from the bed. Somehow, even in his weakest moments, his presence demanded attention, sucking the very power from the room.

"What did she want?"

Rosa rolled her eyes, offering, "Your healthy, speedy recovery." She'd never met a family that needed counselling as much as his did. "You should go easier on her. She loves you, and she cares about you."

"I can't, Rosie I can't..."

"Look at her," She finished for him. "I know. You don't like feeling bad."

And no one could put Ronan in his place quite like his Mother.

"Have you come back to torture me?"

"No," She smiled, feeling lighter. "But it's not very often I get you all pensive and considerate. She makes you think about the bigger picture and you don't like it."

"I do nothing but think of the bigger picture."

"We should have your Mum over more often. It does you some good."

"No. We shouldn't."

"Mmm, we should. I can sit and watch her tell you off like a little boy."

"Don't think I didn't see your little smirk. You can't hide anything from me."

"You'd smirk too if you saw you being put in your place."

And there was nothing he could do about it. He could have all the power in the world and still be afraid of his Mother.

"I think you should say you're sorry."

She gave him the most innocent look she could muster, jabbing, "But I'm not."

His tongue darted out over his lips.

He's playing with me.

"I'd say it if I were you. Unless you want my hand printed on your pretty arse."

Her body tingled.

"As if. You can't get out of the bed to grab me." His eyebrow raised in challenge. Never breaking from her gaze, he pushed himself up by his elbows, groans of pain escaping him. In a second, Rosa was across the room, hands on his pecs to stop him. "You blasted idiot. You're going to reopen your—"

Defeated.

His arm shot around her waist, snaring her. She squealed, dragged onto his lap. Hell, she couldn't even flail. Not without catching his wound.

He clasped her to him like she was his prize. Like the pain in his abdomen was worth it. "Got you." She shivered, not too bothered. Or at all bothered. She squirmed in his lap, the idea of his hand printed on her arse cheek decidedly hot. "Sure you don't want to apologise?"

"For what? Laughing 'cause you're nothing but a pussy when your Mummy—"

He thrust her face to the mattress, body propped up over his lap.

When he palmed her ass, she bit back a moan. I hate dark magic. His boxers she'd taken to wearing vanished into thin air, her ass exposed.

"Last chance to say you're sorry."