The Contracted Ever After (Cordelia and Ronan) novel Chapter 518

Ronan spoke with a tone that seemed to rewind time, and it felt like their relationship was catapulting back to the days when he was the untouchable CEO, and she, Cordelia, was nothing more than an employee under his command.

Cordelia’s heart felt lighter, knowing that if trouble brewed, he would stand in front of it for her. With her other hand, she was fiddling with a pen, spinning it absentmindedly on the desk with such speed it took flight with a snap. It landed near Ronan's feet. Cordelia searched around before spotting it there.

Ronan, too, stared at the pen, then glanced at Cordelia as if to see whether she would come over to pick it up.

Cordelia shifted her posture, sitting up straight against the chair, stretching her arms out, and resting them on the desk in front of her. She made no move to retrieve the pen.

Ronan leaned over, picked up the pen, and held it out to her. His armchair was within easy reach of Cordelia’s writing desk.

She reached out to take it, but just as she extended her hand, Ronan pulled the pen back as if by magic, caught her wrist, and yanked her towards him.

Cordelia fell onto him and tried to break free, but Ronan just laughed. “Now that you’re here, where do you think you’re going?”

She stopped struggling, her mood shifting from the gloom of a dreary, rainy day to a sudden burst of sunshine, simply because—Ronan was there.

She avoided looking at him.

“So, tell me, what’s making you cry?” he asked, looking down at her in his arms.

A few days earlier, Cordelia was browsing through Quora when she came across a question: What would you do if your ex-husband wanted to sleep with you after the divorce? Many responded that it was just a physical need, and if no one else was around, why not? It wasn’t as if it was the first time. It was all the same in the end.

At the time, she had just returned from a night with him at Millstone, and after reading that question, she couldn't help but relate to it, so she read through all the responses.

Ronan chuckled, “Ah, the old seduction game never fails, does it? But shouldn’t you save your wiles for the bedroom?” His thumb grazed the corner of Cordelia’s lips.

At the mention of “bedroom,” Cordelia no longer wanted to continue that thread and changed the subject. “When are you leaving?”

“When do you want me to leave?” he countered.

“The forecast said there might be heavy snow. They’ve been predicting it for days,” Cordelia said, thinking to herself, “I need to find a way to keep Callum here. Ronan can do whatever he pleases; Lumos Enterprises surely won’t miss him.”

Neither of them probably realized just how charged the atmosphere was between them. It was reminiscent of years ago, the dance of seduction between them and the banter laced with innuendo. The next logical step was an explosive mix of passion and conflict, but with one enticing and the other resisting, it turned into a teasing game of attraction.