The Mighty Quinns: Ronan. Kate Hoffmann

how close she was to the edge of the tub. She began to lose her balance, flailing her arms.

      Ronan had to think quick and decided to save her the pain and humiliation of falling into the bathtub. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. But this didn’t have the intended effect at all. She shifted to evade slamming up against his chest and ran face first into the edge of the door.

      “Ow!” she cried, covering her eye with her palm.

      “Are you all right?” Ronan asked.

      Charlie pulled her hand away and shook her head. “I think I’m bleeding.” She struggled to get to the medicine chest above the sink and Ronan wrapped his hands around her waist.

      “Out. I’ll get them.” Ronan found a box of band-aids and then grabbed a washcloth from the towel rack and soaked it with cold water. He found Charlie leaning against the kitchen counter, her fingers doing little to staunch the flow of blood.

      “Let me look,” Ronan said.

      Wincing, she pulled her hand away. “It’s bleeding a lot. Does it look like it needs stitches?”

      Ronan dabbed at the small cut. “No. It’s tiny. There’s a lot of blood. Here, hold this.”

      She pressed the cold cloth to her head as he fumbled to open the bandage. “Sorry,” she murmured.

      “What are you apologizing for? It’s not your fault.” Ronan wanted to reach out and touch her cheek, to see if it was as soft as it looked. His gaze drifted down to her mouth. If they were going to spend time together, it was going to be hard to resist kissing her.

      Though Ronan didn’t work hard at romance, he had enjoyed the regular company of a number of beautiful women. But he usually liked to spend his free time in solitary pursuits, which left little for long-term, serious relationships. Still, he was curious about this particular woman. What was it about Charlie Sibley that he found so intriguing?

      “Hello! Anyone home?”

      She forced a smile. “That would be the real Joel Bellingham,” Charlie murmured.

      Ronan drew her wash cloth away and then neatly covered the cut with a small band-aid. “There. All better.”

      “Thanks,” she said.

      “No problem.”

      She stared at him for a long moment and Ronan’s gaze fell to her lips, so lush and slightly parted. He wanted to lean forward and take just a quick taste, but she seemed to sense what was on his mind and quickly stepped back.

      He watched as she hurried out of the apartment, her footsteps fading on the stairs. They’d have plenty of time to figure this all out, Ronan mused. A lot could happen in six weeks.