‘No—it’s because I’m a seasoned traveller and you’re a virgin.’
Kerry couldn’t help making a small derisive snort.
And it was enough to make Ronan turn his head to look down at her face, his voice threaded with the cheek of the devil. ‘In travelling terms anyway. Because obviously by your age and looking the way you do…’
Her jaw dropped.
But he merely chuckled and reclaimed her elbow to steer her closer to the kerb. ‘Okay, Kerry, Kerry Doyle, I’m prepared to give a little on the traditional tourist stuff for the first hour or so to give you some quick photo op’s seeing you’re on a tight schedule—plus this is an easy way to get your bearings, so—’
‘What is?’
He quirked his brows at her in barely disguised amusement, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder and added the words slowly as if he were talking to a complete idiot. ‘That is.’
Kerry was a tad bemused, folding her arms across her breasts and blinking up at him before she asked, ‘Mr Great Adventurer is putting me on an open-top bus with the rest of the tourists? My, my, aren’t you the daring one? I’m so glad I have travel insurance.’
‘We can take the subway and boil to death if you prefer. You won’t see as much, mind you…’
Hard as it was to believe that anywhere barring the face of the sun could be any hotter than where she already was, and with him looking at her the way he was, Kerry wasn’t prepared to find out. But she was a little disappointed—she could have found one of the many bus tours on her own. Somehow she’d expected more from Ronan. Had maybe secretly hoped for more? And that some of that sense of adventure might rub off on her?
He stepped closer and bent his knees until he was looking her directly in the eye, his proximity doing things to her pulse rate and breathing that she hadn’t experienced since, well, since the plane, actually…
‘Trust me.’ His voice dropped seductively, the vibration of the deep tone reaching out to interrupt the usual rhythm of her heart. ‘I promise you won’t forget today.’
Kerry swallowed. She believed him—but somehow she knew, deep to the pit of her soul, it wouldn’t just be the sightseeing she’d remember. And that was a strangely scary thought. Especially when she’d spent so long waiting for a time in her life when she finally had her independence; she’d fought long and hard, worked more hours than she cared to think about, had constantly put the needs of others first. Not that she wanted to change that—but the last thing she needed was to get even temporarily attached to someone who was probably as reliable as an Irish summer.
‘Can I ask you a question?’
He stood tall again, towering over her by a good six inches. ‘Depends.’
‘How many women you meet on planes end up asking you to play tour guide for them?’
‘Regretting asking?’
‘Curious.’
He folded his arms across his chest, mirroring her stance, the simple action accenting the muscles in his forearms and biceps. ‘About how often I do this or why you asked me in the first place?’
‘Yes.’
And why he’d agreed, she supposed. Not that she needed her ego stroked, but she was curious as to why he’d said yes as quickly as he had. He had to be in New York for a reason, didn’t he? Meeting with a publisher? More research for a new book maybe? Someone who’d travelled as much as he had didn’t make a trip just for the sake of it, did they? And if that was the case had he dropped whatever he was doing in favour of spending the day with her?
Because she really wouldn’t want him to think that she’d repay him at the end of it with—or that he was onto some kind of a sure thing or—
‘First up, let’s remember you asked me and not the other way round—though I’d have offered if you’d given me five minutes. Or at the very least pointed you in the general direction of some of my favourite places.’
Kerry opened her mouth.
But Ronan wasn’t done. ‘Secondly, I don’t tend to talk to people on planes much—and any I’ve bothered with have never been a beautiful woman travelling alone, more’s the pity. So, yes—you’re the first one for a guided tour. I’m only human.’
Of all the very many things in there she could have picked to ask questions on, Kerry’s brain could only seem to focus on the one thing: he thought she was beautiful. Really? Not pretty or cute but honest-to-goodness beautiful?
It made her positively glow—a guy like him thinking that. So much for not needing her ego stroked.
‘Thirdly—’ he took a measured breath that expanded his wide chest before continuing with an almost reluctant tone in his voice, as if he wasn’t completely comfortable saying the words ‘—I guess the idea of seeing things through your eyes appealed to me. It’ll do me good to see it from a new perspective—who knows? I might even get a chapter of a book out of it. I’ll even promise to give you an acknowledgement if I do.’
He recovered with a wink. ‘You can thank me later…’
‘Ronan—’ But before she could find anything coherent to say there was a loud greeting from the upper floor of the bus.
‘Ro—my man! C’mon up.’
Ronan grinned, tilting his head right back to throw an answer back. ‘Hey, Johnnie boy—you save us the good seats?’
‘Uh-huh. That your friend?’
‘Yup.’
The younger man whistled. ‘She’s way too good-lookin’ for you, old man—bring her up here so I can steal her away.’
Kerry laughed when the words were accompanied with an exaggerated wink and a beckoning index finger. ‘And that is?’
Ronan cupped her elbow again, guiding her onto the bus as he leaned his head down, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
‘Best tour guide in New York City—just don’t go telling him I said so or he’ll be unbearable.’ He stood taller, voice rising a little. ‘These tours are all about the guides; get a local like John and you’ll get more insight about the city and the best places to go than you ever would from a book.’
Kerry lowered her voice to the same conspiratorial level he’d used. ‘Don’t you know someone who could maybe put it in a book?’
‘Ah-h-h, but these stories aren’t mine to tell— they’re his. And no two tours are ever the same with John. There’s always something new to add or a different joke or something that happened the day before. And that’s what travelling is all about—the people as much as the places. Some places you might forget, but you won’t forget the people you met along the way. Memories Kerry, Kerry Doyle—yours, the people you meet’s— that’s what you’ll have at the end of every trip you take. Moments; snapshots in time, if you like.’
They paused at the bottom of narrow metal stairs leading to the upper deck, where Ronan released her arm and Kerry felt the rush of air-conditioned coolness wash over the heated brand of his touch, creating goose-bumps on her skin. But even though she was aware of it, it was the wistfulness in his voice as he painted the romantic picture that captured her attention most, echoing a need inside her for the kind of moments he’d just described.
‘You really love what you do, don’t you?’
The sigh was silent, but she caught it. What was it that suddenly made him frown? Why did he turn away from her and look up the stairs as if he didn’t want to look her in the eye? And why did she suddenly feel so ridiculously—sad somehow?