"Thank you, sir," Adam said, taking it as a dismissal. He headed for the door, then paused, glancing back. His eye flicked again over that tattoo, those broad shoulders, the powerful muscles. The art was beautiful, and so heartbreakingly Ronan.

"I like your tattoo," he said, quietly, and then slipped out the door to escape.

He'd been given the evening off. All he wanted to do was sleep.

Instead, he spent some time attending to Ronan's needs, ensuring that he would have everything he needed. He ordered a large meal to be sent up, laying it out and taking a little for himself where the loss wouldn't be noticed. Leaving it for Ronan, Adam slipped off his boots and curled up on the bed with a book. His eyelids were heavy, but he didn't want to risk sleeping if Ronan still needed anything.