Chapter Two

 

Ryan Flannary stood in the entrance to the massive and well run gym beneath the new resort. As with most resorts, he rarely found people actually using the high dollar equipment. But seated in one of the rowing machines, stroking briskly and wearing a virtual reality set of goggles, was Rose Maddock. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and watching her from the side.

She wore some kind of stretch lace holding her hair back, her shoulders and arms moving in strong unison as she sliced through what ever waterway was playing in her vision. And she was smiling, he realized, watching the small white teeth occasionally nibble on her lower lip. She had a full bow to her mouth that made his imagination run rampant, his gaze sweeping down to the muscles of her thighs tensing for each stroke she made.

And she did have very long legs, his male mind noted not for the first time. An overall interesting package, he mused, moving to stand as she slowed her strokes, her hand up and pulling the VR goggles from her face.

Ryan listened to her swear softly as she bent and unbuckled her feet, her wrist up with another mumbled oath. She swung her legs to the outside at the same time she caught sight of someone in the corner of her eye, her body swaying slightly when she launched herself to her feet without pausing.

“Whoa…” Rose closed her eyes, aware of the strong hands at her waist to keep her from buckling.

“A trifle too little blood in the wrong places,” Ryan glanced at his hands where they rested on the rise of her hips, her hands wrapped tightly around his forearms. “Breathe…”

“Yeah…I’m good,” she said, shaking her head and opening her eyes to see him backing up a step, a sports bag at his feet. He reached down and took both their bags in one hand. “Sorry…I thought I had the timer set on the machine.”

“No problem,” he led the way to the room with her name on the plaque. “Where were you? In the VR?”

“The Arctic,” she breathed with a brilliant smile at him. “Amazing crystal blue ice and white snow everywhere, gorgeous ice floes and even a few whales breaching now and again.”

Ryan found himself staring at her as she opened her pack, released her racquet and found a wrist guard she snapped into place. Why had he expected her to be cruising through the tropical islands?

“You continue to fascinate, Rose Maddock,” he commented softly, preparing himself and taking a stance at the line, the small blue ball bounced as he waited for her to join the line and nod for the game to begin.

 

Forty-five minutes later and both of them were leaning on their knees, inhaling deeply after three very active games. Rose slid to the floor and lay back, eyes closed but wearing a smile.

“You’re very good, Ryan, thank you and congratulations,” she breathed the words in the now silent room. She could still hear the pounding of the small ball against the racquet and walls around her and knew from experience it would resonate in her mind for most of the night when things became quiet.

“I barely got that final point, thank you,” he dropped to his heels, watching her hand sweep up and pulling the lace from her hair before dropping to the floor. “I’ve rarely had such a good opponent.”

“Same here…unless you belong to a club, it’s hard to find people with the time to play properly and fun. I don’t like playing with people who want to kill for a win,” she rolled to her stomach and pushed against the floor. “I am seriously in need of a shower.”

“Have dinner with me, Rose,” Ryan stood up, his palm extended to tug her gently to her feet.

“I’ve only my jeans and t-shirts, Ryan,” she had been thinking about him most of the day. It was impossible not to. When she allowed her mind to wander, she could see those blue eyes watching her, studying her.

“Fortunately, the restaurants in the hotel and casino cater to all clothing styles. I’ll take my things to my room and shower there and meet you in the lobby in fifteen?” He suggested, casually gathering his bag and standing by the door, grinning at the nod she offered. “Italian?”

“I’d positively love some pasta,” she told him, taking off at a light run to the ladies locker room. She looked into the mirror one last time, gave the feathery blond hair a rueful fluff and stuffed things into her pack to take home with her after their dinner. It was, she repeated to herself with a sigh as she walked the empty corridors, impossible not to think about Ryan Flannary. He was too pretty, she mused, even or maybe especially because of the sweat on the court. The girl in her sighed. Masculine and pretty. Gallant and polite. Boggled her mind.

Rose had never studied the menu in the frosted glass outside the restaurant. She’d been there four months and hadn’t really had much interest over the inside of either the hotel or casino or the restaurants. She played in the arcade and loved the gym, but the more adult things…a part of her wondered why not, another part of didn’t care to waste energy wondering why not.

She turned to the side in time to see him striding across the expansive lobby and felt the girl in her sigh. He hadn’t tied back the freshly washed hair this time, short tendrils waving over in a casual side part while the length went a little past the collar of the button down shirt. He’d opted for casual, matching her in a pair of creased jeans and simple loafers.

Her hand came up to touch the strands resting on his collar. “This is business approved?”

“That,” he said with a laugh, taking her hand in his and leading her into the restaurant. “Is a whim that I’m indulging at the moment.”

“I like it,” she said firmly, lips pursed in a cute bow that she never paid attention to but held him mesmerized.

“Then it’s just become company policy,” he told her with a pirate grin, taking his eyes off her only long enough to request a quiet table for two.

“How did all your meetings go today? You don’t seem stressed by them,” Rose commented when they were alone, a menu laid out on the table in front of her and a glass of frosted water carried to her lips. “I’ve never been in here before…”

“How long have you worked here? And the meetings went as expected…I offer, they counter…we both simmer for a day,” he acknowledged with a half shrug, waiting while they gave their orders to the waitress.

Rose leaned her chin on a pair of upturned palms, just watching him. “I can’t imagine the fun in business. Accounting, I get. It’s good, solid numbers. Logic. Business…humans…games…worse, games without set rules.”

“You learn the rules on the way through the game,” he countered, leaning back and enjoying the intelligence he saw gleaming in the pale amber eyes. “And sometimes, you make changes that set peoples heads to spinning.”

“Doesn’t it get tiring? Maybe…no, annoying…it’s got to be rather like chess,” she said thoughtfully, her hands out and eyes seeing an invisible chess set laid out before her. “You can easily see the pieces through to the logical and probable conclusions, given each move. So you, as a business man, you know where it begins and given the possible moves, you know how it will end. The problem with the moves, though,” she slowed thoughtfully. “Is the emotional background given the humans also playing. Good mood, bad mood. But you have to make the plays in the middle to get there,” she looked up from the table, blinking at the handsome grin on his face. Understanding dawned on her face. “You like the game.”

“I revel in the game, Rose. And you’re right, it is a great deal like a chess match,” he nodded at the waiter that appeared with the slightly chilled bottle of red wine, tasting and sighing before offering his glass to be filled. “Wine?”

“Thank you…” Rose took a slow taste, smiling at the sweetness inside with a tart bite. “So it really isn’t so stressful to play the game.”

“It sometimes takes a little longer than I’d like,” he admitted with a dismissing shrug. “But in the end, we acquire what we need for the manufacturing we’re relocating to the area. Rebuilding an American community.”

“You’ll be moving here? Where do you live now? California?” She recalled, having given up on trying to disguise her interest. He wasn’t hiding his, she realized with a special tingle racing along her spine.

“Southern California for the most part,” Ryan said with a nod, dark eyes forcing hers to his for a long minute. “Would it please you to know I’m relocated to this area, Rose?”

“It sounds a little high school, but yes…yes, it does,” she answered without hesitation.

“The house has already sold and the things I wanted kept are in transit,” he told her, their conversation halted while the food was laid before them. He grinned at the fingernails lifting slivers of onion from her salad and setting them aside. “It’s arrogant of me, but tell me there’s no one of import in your life but me, Rose.”

“I suppose asking the why isn’t always easy…you have to wonder when you meet someone…the why part, I mean…” She took a bite of salad, staring at the design on the plate before her.

“The why isn’t important now…that comes out with time, I think,” he reached across the table and tilted her chin up. “I’ve enjoyed our day a great deal. This move…the relocation…just another step toward a long term goal for me. Then I was running this morning…” His lips tilted in a smile. “And some how fell head first into a pair of caramel eyes and a beautiful bow of lips that were meant to be kissed…and often. It was like being kicked breathless and solidly in the gut…”

Rose closed one eye, laughing at the expression crossing his face.

“The words were really nice up to that point, Ryan,” she said softly.

“I keep telling myself I’m not in high school and should have better control,” he said with a soft laugh.

“I’ve been living in this area a little over a year. I left Boston to come here. I have friends, some in high spots with the reclamation and knew I’d be able to get one in the accounting department of one or the other places,” Rose stared at his hands for a long minute as she ate. No signs of a ring at all.

“But you’ve never eaten here before? No dates?”

“No interest. I love my job. I love numbers. I work out, play in the arcade and have a few hobbies at home. I have male friends who accept that’s all I feel,” she lifted her gaze to his. “I didn’t just leave Boston, Ryan, I ran. As far and as fast as I could. I’ve been working for the health center a little over four months and it’s so nice and so peaceful.”

“Then that’s how it shall remain,” he promised her, peering over the wine glass. “Racquetball tomorrow after work?”

“A chance to redeem myself? Absolutely,” she told him, launching herself into questions about what type of business was being relocated.

“That is a positively decadent expression,” he said forty-five minutes later as she tasted the thick chocolate pile on the plate between them. The smile remained in his eyes when she scooped up more of the deep chocolate mixture and held it out to him. “Alright…agreed…”

“Amazing,” she breathed and took another bite. “It’s barely eight.”

“Interested in visiting the casino?” Ryan asked as he settled the bill while she took the final bite of chocolate.

“The casino?” Her nose wrinkled at the thought, standing up and taking his hand. “Not really. No interest. I can play blackjack well enough…it’s numbers…”

“People gamble for lots of other reasons, Rose,” he tucked her palm in his and strolled slowly toward the exit. “Many find it relaxing. Some, a game.”

“I’m allergic to money. It’s nothing but trouble.”

“Hmm…do tell…”

“I was thinking of the arcade…or a walk through the enclosed gardens,” she suggested.

“Someplace quiet to simply sit and talk,” he agreed with a nod. “The gardens.”

“It’s behind the pool area. You’ll have to bring trunks tomorrow,” she suggested, deciding she liked the way he wrapped her palm around his arm and walked with his other hand stroking gently over her fingers. “After an hour on the court, sinking into the hot tub is the best feeling ever.”

“So tell me why you dislike money?”

“I don’t, I suppose. It has its purpose.” She laughed dryly. “It’s what makes the world go round, right?”

“None of this would exist without it,” he said softly, content to amble along the carefully constructed paths through the scented conservatory.

“I know…in the right hands, it’s a wonderful tool. I don’t see the point of the hoarding, though…the constant drive to amass more and more and more,” Rose exhaled deeply. “People…work hard for so many different reasons.”

“Hoarding?” Ryan repeat the word slowly.

“A person…business, sports, politics…whatever…you make money. Unless you’re extremely careless, you buy things and go places and do stuff…but in the end, you have a coffin and you inside it and that’s all there is. No money stops that. When you have so much money that it just…just sits someplace…just builds more baby money…what’s the point? And yet, there’s no gene inside them that says to share,” Rose shook her head. “I’m not explaining my thoughts right. Don’t mind me.”

“Perhaps you’ve got money and greed mixed up, Rose,” he said quietly.

“I think maybe I’ll be quiet now as to not embarrass myself further,” she replied with a wince. “None of this would be possible without money and people who cared and were willing to share. I know that. And I don’t believe someone who works hard should give away all their earnings, that’s not what I’m suggesting at all. Four million to make a thirty minute TV comedy? Thirty million for a few seasons of baseball or football? Why did we, as a society, conclude that people are of value based on what they do? Or can’t do…”

“I don’t disagree with you at all, Rose. Maybe that’s one of the chief reasons the company is relocating the manufacturing plants here in the first place. Building a community, once again,” Ryan said carefully, stopping them beside a wide stone bench and sinking down. He straddled it and pulled her to sit in between, her back against him and his arms around her from behind. She pulled her feet to rest on the bench and relaxed, her arms over his and head back.

“Sometimes…” She began quietly, trying not to think of the warm breath whispering against her throat. “I just want a quiet little place. A peaceful little world where people stopped being mean to one another,” she sighed thickly. “Sorry…guess you could say I have issues.”

Rose wasn’t sure how she cuddled back a little closer, feeling his laughter run through them both.

“I’m surprised you’re not a social worker or something more…involved,” he commented cautiously, not loosening his hold on her.

“Oh, god, I’d be in debt to my ears on contempt of court charges,” she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I thought about it a long, long time ago. I don’t think I could have handled the…the sadness…over and over and never feeling like there was an end.”

“No…I think you would have weathered it, but the cost would have been in more than mere money for you,” he remarked, his lips trailing over the expanse of skin, from her shoulder cap to the hollow between her throat and shoulder. He liked the sweet shiver and the softer sigh that broke from her lips.

“Have I mentioned that you have very nice words? And that touch of Ireland makes them roll very sweetly off your tongue,” Rose sat up and turned to face him, sitting like he was on the bench. “I have a six o’clock wake up.”

“Hmm…funny that…so do I. But I’ll be doing laps in the morning around the track,” he took her hand in his, brought them together and carried them both to his lips. “So perhaps it’s time for good night.”

“I think so…I’m a little grateful for being unable to breathe this morning,” she met the smile with one of her own before she leaned in, brushing her mouth over his lightly. “Good night, Ryan Flannary.”

“Tomorrow night…five at the court, Rose,” he watched her back up, nodding once before she vanished around a corner. He sat quietly in the tranquil conservatory, glancing now and then into the glass ceiling and the multitude of stars breaking onto the velvet midnight sky. He pushed himself to his feet and wandered slowly toward the hotel.

How do you reconcile emotions? If you were handed a pill and told this woman would be the most appealing, utterly fascinating woman you’ll ever meet, he could rationalize it in his mind. It would make a strange kind of sense. How does it simply come out of no where and grab you so hard you can’t, no, you don’t want to think of anything but the way she laughs or sighs or smells.

He tossed his shirt toward the chair and opened the lap top, filling a large bottle with water and ice before sitting down to see what had been happening during his evening off. He opened the photo he’d snapped before joining her in the lobby and set his desktop, the freshly scrubbed, bright eyed smile following into his dreams much later in the night.