The question came from the striking wisp of a girl, who was so very nearly on the cusp of womanhood. Her white ensemble for the family gathering was a clear indicator that she knew was entering a new phase of her life and was eagerly embracing it. Her pose was at first glance, natural, but there was a rigidness to it that was unshakeable by his eye. He remembered this kind of hunger for adulthood, to be seen and recognized as a worthy grown up by all the important people in the room
“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” he replied easily. He offered a neutral, but inviting smile and her formerly cool expression eased into a warm grin as she extended her hand.
“Kristina.”
He took her hand in his and raised it to his mouth. Before reaching his lips, he saw her eyes widen, the gesture unexpected. His lips grazed her knuckles slightly and a small gasp escaped her lips.
“A pleasure. I am Ronan.”
He released her hand and she took a step towards him, her eyes alight with interest. “Oh yes, my mother mentioned your name this morning. You’re in finance, right?”
“Aren’t we all?” It was a gentle tease that sent her cheeks aflame, but she held her own, shrugging nonchalantly as she regrouped. “Not especially, I’m more interested in the law, like my mother.”
Ronan titled his head slightly. “Criminal law?”
Kristina shook her head. “Corporate. With our family, it’s almost inevitable, isn’t it?”
A waiter breezed by and Ronan easily took two flutes of champagne, handing one to Kristina. She took it expertly, but seemed uncertain about drinking it. Not quite of legal drinking age, then, he noted to himself. “Is that what you want to do with your life? Work for the family?”
A wry smile came over her. “Don’t we all?” she replied, echoing his earlier remark.
He let out a quick bark of a laugh, genuinely pleased with her quip. With time and practice, she’d get much better at this sort of thing. She took a small sip of the sparkling drink, acknowledging her mini-victory.
She took a step towards the gardens and turned towards him, and he gallantly offered his arm to her. She took it, biting back the grin that was itching to be released. Instead she took another sip as they walked a few steps in silence, away from the garden party.
“Are you in Port Charles long?” Her voice was stronger now, more confident as they walked in tandem.
“The wedding of course, but I think I could manage a few more days following. I’ve not yet explored Spoon Island, although I find it breathtaking. I would hate to leave before getting a chance to see it more fully.”
It was an obvious opener and Kristina took it in a blink. “If you would like, I would be happy to show you the grounds. I’ve traipsed across every bit of grass on the entire island; I know all the hidden nooks like the back of my hand.” She turned to him, youthful excitement etched in her bright face.
“Would you know the best place to have an intimate picnic near the water?” he asked his gaze zeroing in on her deep brown orbs. The question was unmistakable and he was sure this would send her wheeling back into teenage girl land. Instead, she lifted her chin and gave a confident nod. Her eyes blazed, almost impishly, “of course I do, but I don’t take just anyone there.”
His ice blue eyes darkened ever so slightly and as though a breeze blew past her, a small shiver coursed through Kristina’s slight frame, feeling as though she had just become prey to a very gorgeous predator. He took a step towards her, closing the distance between them. “I certainly hope I can convince you that I am not just anyone,” he murmured, a hint of a growl in his voice that nearly sent her swooning.
Kristina let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to still the rapid beat of her heart as it thumped mightily against her chest. Her mind raced with how to reply. What would her mother say? No, what would SABRINA say?
As if on cue a third party appeared from around a thicket of white hydrangea. Ronan instinctively took a small step back, and both turned slightly towards the intruder.
“Kristina!”
Kristina frowned at the sharpness in her Aunt Faith’s voice. “Is everything alright?” she called as the mocha skinned beauty made a beeline towards them. She almost let out a gasp as Ronan gently placed his hand at the small of her back.
Faith nearly barreled into them and narrowed her eyes slightly at their close proximity to each other. “The Prince has asked for you,” she said calmly. She gave no further information, but Kristina required none. When Nikolas called, you responded and did so promptly. She turned apologetically to Ronan. “If you’ll excuse me,” she offered and Ronan nodded with a smile. “Thank you for your time Kristina.”
Kristina headed back but turned a few feet away and silently made the universal “call me” gesture to Ronan. He lifted his chin slightly in acquiescence as Faith Cassadine took his attention.
“Mrs. Cassadine.” It was an acknowledgement both of her status as Stefan’s wife, but also as a matriarch of the family. Faith was having none of it.
“I know you,” she said simply. Her eyes were frosty as he stared back impassively.
“Do you?” A flicker of challenge lingered in his question, and it served only to anger her further.
“She is a child.” Her voice had dropped to a low growl and her body became rigid. “She is the great-granddaughter of Mikkos and the beloved niece to Stefan and Sabrina. She is treasured by the Prince and adored by her cousin, Andresj.”
Ronan placed his hands behind his back and said nothing.
“Getting into Helena’s bed is disgusting, but to do her bidding, is unconscionable.” Faith crossed her slim arms in front of her, refusing to stand down.
Several tension filled seconds ticked by as the two faced off. Both knew that just out of sight stood a half dozen of Stefan’s personal guards, ready to pounce should the need arise. Ronan considered his next move carefully. All of the Cassadine women were formidable in their own way. Faith had always carried herself with a quiet, but fierce grace, a lovely match to former figurehead of the family, Stefan. Her beauty was breathtaking, but behind it stood a sharp mind and spine of steel. It would be a mistake to not take every facet of Faith Cassadine seriously.
Finally, he acknowledged his head politely. “I am not your enemy.” His voice was low, firm but surprisingly sympathetic.
“I don’t believe you.” But the edge in her voice was not so deadly this time.
A shrug.
“You will.”
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