Chapter Six

 

If she lived to be ninety, she’d never provoke him again.

She shoved clothes into the locker and tugged the swimsuit up her legs before going to stand beneath the spray. It was hot and soothing and her legs really didn’t want to move but she forced them to head toward the outer area where the pool and hot tubs were located. Snatching up a thick towel on the way, her breath caught at the coolness in the air as she stepped into the huge chlorine scented area.

Rose drew in a long, slow breath when she spotted him across the damp ground, hooking his towel on a hook. He’d chosen the further tub, away from people, should any decide to use the area this evening. The man seriously had a sexy male body and parts of her was recalling their night, a tingle shooting through her at the memories. He still had his hair tied back and he seemed to know she was there, turning and watching her move toward him. She swallowed hard. He wore simple black thigh length trunks, a triangle of dark hair rising from his waist, over his chest. His body glistened with the shower he’d stood beneath.

“Are you pleased with yourself?” He asked quietly, moving to the stairs and striding into the bubbling water. An involuntary sigh broke free, his eyes closed for a long grateful second. He didn’t try and stop caressing her with his narrowed gaze, amazed at the conflict with kissing her and shaking her. Water glistened off her as she had moved toward him, her hair swept back and eyes watchful.

“In all honesty, yes,” Rose didn’t shy from his gaze. He wasn’t glaring. If she had to label the look, it was guarded and very well controlled. “Of course, another part of me is ready to sign the papers to have me committed.” She was quiet for a long minute, settling into the hot water and laying her head back. “The flowers are beautiful, Ryan, thank you.”

“They reminded me of the garden we sat in the day we met,” he said softly.

“My office smells like a garden…it’s nice…” she answered, a little polite, a little uncertain. “I liked your friends. Renee’ is a little younger than I thought…but she’s sweet and is very excited about the business partnership.”

“Jean Paul is a few years older than me,” Ryan relaxed a little. “He met Renee’ when she was in college…he said he never had a chance. Before he knew it, he was convinced there wasn’t a worthy life without her to brighten it.”

“Did he fight it?” She asked softly, lifting her head and staring at him on the other side of the large tub.

“He did,” Ryan recalled with a laugh. “He went through a list of excuses, top of the mark, their ages.”

“How long did he make them both suffer before he came to his senses?”

He held his breath, two hands up and rubbing over his face.

“No punches pulled, Rose?”

“Is that what this morning was about? You suddenly felt a noose around your freedom, your cosmopolitan way of life?” She couldn’t stop the pain from showing in her eyes. “I didn’t ask for anything from you, Ryan. Not your time, not your…your attention…not your presents. And I certainly will not take anything from you that you aren’t willing to give.”

“And it doesn’t frighten you?” He leaned forward, too aware of the sudden rush of pain to her eyes.

“I wouldn’t be very bright if I said it didn’t…I don’t understand it,” she brought her tongue out, spreading moisture over her lips. “What would you have done if I had said no to the match tonight?”

Ryan shoved against the back of the tub, his head tilted back and eyes closed. “Paced. Been pissed. Probably chewed a few heads in the project that didn’t deserve it…stormed your office in the morning and found a way to make you hear me out.”

“Alright. I’m here. If you don’t want me in your life, then why would you do that? Just turn around and walk away,” she heard her voice shake and pulled her lips tightly together, turning from him and leaning over the edge of the tub. “For both our sakes, Ryan, turn around and leave. I need honesty.”

“I spent four hours this morning trying to do just that and never got an answer to why,” he said thoughtfully, softly. “I’m not sure what I feel…I’m not sure why it scares the hell out of me, Rose. This morning…I believed it would be gone,” he admitted flatly. “How’s that for honesty?”

Rose turned around slowly, blinking and shaking her head.

“That isn’t what you said last night,” she whispered. “But that was passion. Once your head cleared…once you had your fill…” She looked down at the wrist abruptly grasped and pulled, their faces inches apart. “Last night it wasn’t temporary…or a one night stand…”

She wasn’t prepared for his kiss. His mouth closed over hers, firmly and hungrily. She wasn’t prepared for the sensations coursing through her, sending her heart pinging excitedly. Scenes of their night swept through her like a spring storm, reminding her, showing her how it had been.

“It’s not fair…stop, Ryan…please…” Rose pushed against him, turning her head and refusing to open her eyes.

“No…it’s not fair…but for the moment, it has both of us caught in the spiral,” he whispered, gently nudging her mouth back to his. He urged her onto his lap, cradled her in his arms and groaned into the moisture edging her lashes. “Rose…sweet Rose…I’m sorry…” He brushed his mouth over her forehead. “We’re wrinkling, Rose…let’s go to the room.”

She peered at him, rubbing one palm over her face where the tears had slid. “No…I can’t go through another morning like today. I won’t.”

“Dinner. I ordered in and it’s waiting for us,” he told her, climbing to his feet and leading her from the tub. He lifted one of the thick towels and wrapped her with it. “I’ll wait for you in the hall. Just dinner, Rose. I won’t ask for more. But I need to be with you.” And he kicked at himself for feeling weak at that admission.

 

“Let me get my things,” Rose wandered into the dressing rooms, pulled things from her locker and scowled. She had to get home and get some clean clothes before morning.

She smacked herself.

She had no intentions of spending the night in his bed.

Dinner and home. Firm. The scowl was still in place when she went into the hall, vaguely aware of the single dark brow that arched as she approached him.

“Problem?” Ryan fell into step with her, his palm gliding down her arm until their fingers twined.

“Of course not. Dinner and I’m going home. Period. I need clean clothing,” she informed him loftily.

“Alright,” he didn’t fight the amusement at the expression she was struggling with. “Are you worried I’ll seduce you, Rose?”

“You could if that’s what you wanted,” she said quietly. Mostly because I enjoyed it a great deal, she told herself with an inner groan.

“I could…but not because I’m good, but because I’m falling in love with you,” he replied, meeting the stunned, round amber circles. “I worked it out while I was dressing. Oft times the heart simply doesn’t communicate properly with the brain it seems. And very probably I wasn’t prepared for those words.”

Rose felt her mouth open and close. Several times before she just swallowed and shook her head, barely aware of them entering the elevator, hand in hand. Unaware of people watching them and smiling. People she knew. People she’d never seen before. What did they think? What did they see? Just a couple returning to their room after a stint in the gym.

“Nothing to say?”

“I’m sure it’ll pass,” she murmured, frowning when he laughed, his fingers tightening and raising her hand to his lips.

“It’s an…annoying sensation to be out of control,” he began slowly, unlocking the door and gesturing her inside. “That’s what was wrong this morning. I’m not accustomed to it at all.”

“Losing control? You think you were out of control last night?”

“Aye…” He tapped the switch plate on the wall that had the fireplace reacting to his request. He didn’t stop the smile that touched his lips when she realized what was spread on the floor. She talked of enjoying picnics on the beach. “Caring about a person isn’t about control, though, is it, Rose?”

He took her pack from her hands and set it on the sofa that had been shoved back slightly. He led her to the large blanket spread on the floor, leaving her there before going to pull the thick drapes aside, allowing the sparkling of the evening rain to twinkle around them.

“Rose?” His palms felt damp, his movement uncertain. Another something that annoyed him. His jaw set, he gently gripped her shoulders, meeting the wide eyes that lifted to his. “Oh, Rose…I didn’t mean to make you cry…I thought it would please you…I spent half the day trying to understand my own head…trying to fix the damage I’d caused…”

Rose felt his shirt beneath her face, her hands closed into tight fists at her head. She’d spent the morning pushing him out of her mind. Fighting to push him out of that space he’d found in her heart. She drew one fist back and hit him solidly in the chest, glaring at the stunned expression on his face.

“Owww!” Ryan backed up a step, rubbing the spot she’d struck even as humor lifted the corners of his eyes.

“If you ever do that to me again, I’ll really hit you,” she informed him, chin up and defiant. “I don’t know what this is that I feel. I don’t have the right labels to understand maybe because it has happened so fast but I don’t care right now. But you talk or shout or…or something, Ryan Flannary. Is that clear?”

“As Irish crystal, my sweet Rose,” he chuckled, carefully opening the small fist and tugging her closer. “I’m sorry for being…”

Rose frowned up at him. “I didn’t understand that.”

“It wasn’t complimentary, nor was it English. How about dinner?” He led her closer, both of them sinking to the floor and exploring the covered dishes.

“You arranged all this?” Rose laughed in disbelief, lifting a pineapple spear and biting down hungrily.

“Aye…in between meetings and ripping into vendors for not meeting their deadlines,” Ryan pulled his shoes off and reached for hers, tugging them free. Both of them sat cross legged on the blanket, eating for a few minutes.

“I feel for your vendors,” Rose watched him. She liked watching him, lifting a slice of marinated chicken and dredging it through the sweet sauce. “This is delicious.”

“The hotel has outstanding cooks,” he agreed, relaxing on his side as he dug for some of the salad he’d requested. She asked questions about his day and he answered, listening and laughing with her until most of the food had vanished. He watched her absently cleaning up their picnic, pushing himself to lean against the sofa. “Stay with me, Rose.”

Amber circles kept busy on repacking the containers, her teeth tugging on her lower lip. She tried ignoring the shaking hands but knew it was impossible.

“I don’t have any clothes, Ryan,” she began slowly. She should have just said no. She couldn’t do that to herself tonight.

“It’s barely come eight,” he reached for his loafers and slid them into place, handing her the shoes she had slipped out of. “I have a more flexible schedule. I can go to your place with you.” He laughed at the head that suddenly popped up, her eyes wide. “You do have a bed larger than a twin, right?”

“I…yes, of course…” she leaned back on her heels, looking from her shoes to him and sighing. “The unit came furnished. I either sold or donated most of the stuff I had when I moved,” she looked around the large, open area. “I think my whole little apartment would fit in this room, Ryan. The employee quarters are nice and close, though.”

“You live on site?” Came the curious question. He hadn’t given a thought to where she was living, assuming it was an apartment.

“Yes, right…” she pursed her lips, frowning and gesturing behind her. “Over that way, I think…I’m a bit turned about in here…”

“Two bathrooms?” He asked casually.

“No…”

“There’s a washer and dryer here, Rose,” he helped move the containers to the counter, watching her fold the blanket and slide her shoes into place. “Let’s take a walk and get some clothes for you.”

“Ryan, I can’t stay here with you.”

“Why?”

“I…it’s a hotel…you’re a guest…I…I…” she frowned at the sweater he handed her and continued leading her from the room. “I could be in violation of…I don’t know what, but I could!” Her scowl deepened at his laugh, his hands trapping her in the corner of the elevator and their faces inches apart.

“I already checked with Logan, you’re safe,” he teased, barely stable when she shoved against him, gaping at him.

“I…you what? You spoke to Logan? The boss? The owner? About me?” Her voice continued to rise until she stopped, closed her eyes and inhaled. “I can’t believe this.”

“We’re friends, Rose. He saw us together that first morning after breakfast,” Ryan took her palm, walking with her through the expansive and bustling lobby that sent shoots off in many directions. “Which way, Rose?”

She felt her teeth snap together. The owner, for pity sake, she thought with an inward groan. Rose led him to the employee exit and through with a swipe of her badge.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a few minutes of walking, standing at her side on the moving walkway.

“I’m in disbelief…”

“Because of Logan?” one shoulder rose and fell dismissingly. “He didn’t have anything to say, Rose. We didn’t talk about you. He asked if I was corrupting one of his employees,” he recalled, meeting her eyes with a teasing wink.

Rose only groaned aloud, not protesting when he pulled her to lean into his arms. Her fingers caught in the belt loops on his jeans and she let her head rest there for a quiet minute. It was baffling. It was new. She wondered briefly if it was also dangerous but dismissed it and stood up, glancing around quickly. She stepped off and led him up the stairs a few feet down a corridor.

“How long will you have to live in a hotel, Ryan?”

“Hayworth came in last night. He’s got a list of things I’m looking for in a house,” Ryan remarked easily, taking in the grounds and arrangements of the sprawling on sight housing that had been developed. “They did a nice job with the housing.”

“It’s supposed to be temporary. When the apartments are complete, most will move there. Some, depending on circumstances, can stay here,” she told him, applying her thumb and opening the sturdy gate. “Hayworth?” Rose repeat the name, even as she heard a little part of her whimpering and asking if she had a clue what she was getting involved with.

“Personal assistant,” Ryan hoped the description was broad enough.

“Huh…your company must really like you…a massive suite bigger than most apartments and a personal assistant…and he’s…I’m guessing he?” Her voice had risen again, making her clear it, repeatedly.

“He…Matt Hayworth,” Ryan confirmed with a nod.

“Irish?”

“British, actually,” he stepped into the small apartment behind her and felt the first slap at his ego. “Rose…” He wasn’t sure where or what were the proper words to use to explain himself. Without watching her run.

“I know…it’s small, but it’s very comfortable and it’s me,” she said without looking over her shoulders, striding into the bedroom with her pack dropping from her shoulder to her fingers.

“I wasn’t about to comment on your apartment, Rose,” Ryan followed her, leaning against the door frame and watching her. She dumped the pack upside down on the unmade bed and sorted, most of the contents being tossed into a large plastic bin near the bathroom. “I like it…and you are right, it is you,” he agreed with a sly grin, holding himself immobile when she turned slowly, pale lashes narrowed.

“Is that a dig?”

“Absolutely not,” he answered smoothly, his palm up and one finger lifting a ridiculous scrap of nylon and lace dangling off the corner of her bed.

“I…that merely means it’s still serviceable. I wear that beneath some of my dresses…” she stopped, closing her eyes and growling at the heat she felt in her cheeks. “I am not discussing my underwear with you,” she informed him, turning back to her sorting before going in search of items to fold and tuck into the pack for a couple days. Including one of her dresses, snatching the bra from the bedpost and stuffing it into the pack.

“Do tell…it appears I have a great deal to learn,” he commented through a low chuckle.