by Lexy Timms
Ryan turned away from the window and Olivia rose as he stalked toward her, unwilling to be trapped in her chair again. He stopped, looking down at the photo of her with Logan.
“You’ve turned against me,” he said. “And that hurts, Olivia. I’ve done everything for you. Everything you’ve wanted, and you repay me with this?” Ryan rapped one finger on the photo. He looked up at her. “I didn’t think you were that kind of woman. You said you had a one-night stand, and this was it, wasn’t it? How stupid of me not to realize sooner. And you weren’t going to tell me, were you?”
With a swiftness that caught her off guard, Ryan had Olivia by the shoulders, squeezing painfully hard. “You’re throwing everything away. For him? When you could have had everything you wanted. Could have had the career your talent deserves.” His eyes narrowed. “You could have had me.”
He brought his lips own on hers, less a kiss than an attack, a brand of ownership. There was nothing Olivia could do but struggle in his grip, pushing at his chest with her hands.
When he broke away, she barely resisted the urge to spit in his face. She felt violated. Demeaned.
“You know this is what you want,” Ryan growled. “We both know it.”
His eyes were focused on hers, burning and intense, but not with passion. The interaction was outright conquest, predator holding prey, and Olivia did not like being the prey.
“I’ll... I’ll still file a complaint.”
Ryan’s laugh was harsh. “Go ahead. I’ve got incontestable evidence now of your morals and ethics, in black and white. You’ll be admitting to far more than you care to if you try to tell anyone about this.”
His grip tightened, fingers digging into her skin with bruising force. “You’re in a pretty serious situation here, and you’re not the one calling the shots. This isn’t running a few minutes late to a meeting, or letting your paralegal get out of hand. This is a serious mistake. And I’m the only one who can help you now. You know that.”
“Ryan. You’re hurting me.” The passive tone of her voice dismayed her. “Please.”
Ryan looked at her a moment longer, then released her arms. She took a step back and ran into the chair, breathing fast.
“Think about this, Olivia.” Ryan ran his fingers over the photo, lingering on her face, his voice eerily gentle. “Think about what you’ve done and what you can do. Your options are severely limited.” He turned, looking down at her. “Think about where you want to be in five years’ time, and the only person who can help you get there now.”
Olivia turned and bolted, fumbling open the door, running away from Ryan’s office. There was no one to see her; the cubicles of the secretaries and paralegals were empty, the offices around her dark.
Pushing open the stairway door, she ran down one flight of steps and finally stopped, leaning against the cool tile wall. Tears sprang into her eyes and she sank down on the top step, resting her face on her knees.
She’d hoped it would go away. That if she ignored Ryan’s advances he would get the picture. But that had only made him more intent on getting what he wanted. She’d threatened to file a complaint and he had just laughed. And now... How could she tell anyone? Ryan had something to hold over her, by her own admission. She’d slept with a client. She was still sleeping with the client. I’m such a fool.
She cried silently for a long time, until the sound of someone opening a door above her echoed down the stairwell. Straightening, she wiped her face, and hurried down the stairs to her office, shutting the door and locking it.
The message light was flashing on her phone, and with shaky hands she pressed the buttons, retrieving the message. It was Logan.
“Looking forward to dinner tonight. Don’t go to too much trouble, m'eudail. Whatever you make will be fine with me.”
She could hear the smile in his voice, and her heart did a little flip-flop. And then sank. She’d promised dinner. How could she see Logan now, after the afternoon in Ryan’s office?
But how could she not?
He answered his cell phone on the first ring and she gave him directions to her apartment.
“Are you sure you have time to cook? You’ve had a busy day, no doubt. I don’t want you slaving over a hot stove when there’s other things we could be doing.”
Hearing his voice, the teasing tone that promised far more to come, she relaxed, sitting back in her chair. “I like to cook. It’s calming. I never have anyone to cook for any more, though, since... Well. You know. So I’m looking forward to tonight.”
“As long as you’re not too tired. What time do you want me there, bearing the Macallan?”
Olivia glanced at her watch. “Let’s say seven thirty or so? Dinner about eight. And then whatever you have in mind.”
He laughed. “When it comes to you, mo leannan, there’s no end to the things I have in mind.”
“I’ll hold you to that, then.”
“See to it that you do,” Logan answered, voice gone rough and low.
He hung up, and Olivia smiled down at the phone. Whatever else was going on, at least she still had Logan.
Chapter Ten
Olivia was distracted in the cab on the way home, trying to remember what was in the freezer, what fresh vegetables she had, what she needed from the corner deli. Salad, chicken breasts with a jar of her homemade marinara sauce, and bread. Bread and cheese from the deli. That’s it.
She was back home with the sauce simmering and the chicken in the oven by seven. The doorbell rang just as she was coming out of the bedroom. She padded barefoot to the door, finishing up the last few buttons on her blouse.
“You’re early.” She looked up and froze in the open doorway.
Ryan Marshall was standing in the hallway, a bottle of Macallan in his hand.
“Not who you were expecting?” He brushed past her into the apartment and she stared after him, trying very hard to understand why Ryan would be in her apartment, much less with a bottle of Macallan.
“Ryan. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to bring you something. A present. Peace offering, as it were.” He held out the familiar oval-shaped bottle of amber liquid. Olivia looked down at it, taking a step back as if he were offering her a snake. Her mind was reeling; the last person she expected to see was Ryan. And the second to last person she wanted to see now was Logan.
“I came to apologize, Olivia. For my behavior. I know you’re only trying to do your best. I know that you want to succeed. And maybe I’m pushing you a bit too hard.” He took a step toward her and she backed up, bumping into the kitchen counter.
“Why so tense? Here. Let me open this and you can pour us a glass. I think a nice, stiff drink would do both of us some good. We can sit. Have a talk. I’d like that. Wouldn’t you?”
He took another step toward Olivia. As he reached past her to set the bottle on the counter, she tried to move away, but he outmaneuvered her, placing his hands on the counter, effectively pinning her between his arms.
Ryan looked down at her, emotions crossing his face almost too quickly to be read. But there was one that was all too clear. It made her heart pound and her stomach drop. He was looking at her with a feral lust. A look she’d never seen in his eyes before.
“No.” She shook her head. “You have to leave.”
She tried to slip beneath his arm, but he pulled her against his chest. She could smell him, the scent of his aftershave, and beneath that the muskier scent of his skin.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I know you don’t really want me to. And I think, if you just let yourself relax, we can make this much better for both of us.”
He bent his head, his lips finding hers in a crushing kiss. She twisted her head, trying to break free, but he grabbed the back of her head, winding his fingers through her hair, holding her tight against his mouth. Her memory flashed back to that afternoon in his office, to a moment just like this one.
Olivia jerked against him, trying to wiggle out of his grip,
but his arm was wrapped around her waist, forcing her close to the heat of his body. The more she struggled, the harder he held her, and more evident his arousal became as he pressed his hips forward into hers.
He broke away from her mouth at last, looking down at her, his breath rasping from his parted lips.
“You’re playing hard to get, Olivia. Or—” Ryan yanked her hair, pulling her head back. “You think the boyfriend is going to save you?”
Olivia’s eyes went wide. “I don’t-I—”
“Don’t play coy. I know he’s on his way here. In fact, he should be arriving any time now. ‘Seven thirty or so,’ you said, right? But I don’t think there’ll be any dinner for Mr. Graham.”
“Why are you doing this, Ryan?” Tears were pooling in Olivia’s eyes. Tears of fear and anger. She’d asked the question before, too many times, but he’d always brushed her off.
Now, he bared his teeth in something that was almost a snarl. “Because you’re all I’ve ever wanted, Olivia. You were so distracted with Patrick, and now with this musician, to even see it. But I’m tired of being patient, of waiting for you to come around and realize what we could have together.”
“But I don’t want you. I never have.” Olivia looked up at Ryan. “You’ve been a mentor. A good friend. At least I thought you were. Nothing more. You have to know that.
Ryan let go of Olivia’s hair, his hands running down her back, one sliding further to cup her ass. She struggled briefly but he pressed himself against her again and she went still in his arms, afraid she’d only excite him more. She could feel the hardness of him, the heat, as he rubbed himself against her. It made her stomach turn.
“You’ve either misunderstood you’re delusional.” She met his eyes, her expression pleading with him to hear her, to step back and let her go. Please let this all be some kind of bizarre nightmare. “There’s never been anything between us.”
“Liar.” Ryan growled the word in her ear as he pulled her close again, his mouth on her neck. She felt one hand moving to the front of her blouse and as she struggled to push him away, she heard the tearing of fabric, the patter of buttons across the kitchen floor.
The sound of breaking glass made them both jump. She turned her head toward the noise, looking over the bulk of Ryan’s shoulder, and saw Logan standing in the open doorway to her apartment. A shattered bottle of Macallan was on the floor at his feet.
“Logan—” Shit! Shit! Shit! She saw the confusion cross his face, and then the pain in his dark eyes.
“I should have known,” he muttered, looking down at the puddle of Macallan on the floor. “Waste of a good bottle of Scotch.”
And then he was gone.
“Logan!” Olivia shoved at Ryan and he let her go. She struggled to pull the front of her blouse together as she ran for the hallway. But she had forgotten the glass.
Olivia cried out as she stepped in the mess, sinking to the floor with a shard of it embedded in her foot.
The slam of the stairway door was loud, echoing back down the hall. Olivia sat for a moment, her foot forgotten. She felt tears spill over and roll down her cheeks. Her thoughts spun. How can I explain this?
“Well that’s unfortunate,” Ryan said dryly. He was standing behind her, looking down at the broken glass and the amber liquid seeping across the floor.
Olivia twisted around, looking up at him. “Unfortunate?” she choked. She struggled upright, pushing aside Ryan’s offer of an outstretched hand, and rounded on him, anger stilling her tears. “You call hurting the man who loves me ‘unfortunate’?”
“I meant the Scotch, actually. Macallan isn’t cheap, and this was a good year.” Ryan shook his head. “The man, well... If he’s so easily put off, then it wasn’t meant to be I guess.”
“You bastard! What do you know about him? What do you know about me?”
“Oh, I know enough. And I know that this little...affair...you’ve been having needs to end. For many reasons. Not least of which is that it’s beneath you. He’s beneath you.”
The crack of Olivia’s hand against Ryan’s cheek was shockingly loud. Her palm stung, and she clutched it reflexively with her other hand, breathing hard.”
“What the hell?” Ryan took a step backward. He raised a hand briefly to his face, with a grimace that was probably about the sting in his cheek, if it hurt anywhere near as much as Olivia’s hand did. She hoped it hurt worse.
He stared at her. Strands of blond hair, dislodged from their careful style by her blow, fell into his eyes. A slow smile spread across his face. Olivia recoiled, repulsed by the strange, somehow dangerous calm.
“Be very careful, Olivia.” He walked to the door, casually avoiding the glass, and the whisky now tinged with blood. “And you really should clean this up before it stains.” He turned to look at her, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
OLIVIA TRIED LOGAN’S cell phone, calling over and over, but only reached his voicemail. She left a message each time, until finally the inbox was full and the phone stopped accepting them. Finally, she dug the glass out of her foot, slapping a band-aid across the wound, then called a cab and headed to his hotel.
Arriving breathless in the lobby, she punched the elevator button, willing it to hurry. On Logan’s floor she limped as quickly as she could down the hall. She had every intention of pounding on his door until he answered it. But as her fist struck the wood the first time, the door swung open.
“Logan!” Olivia stepped through into the room beyond and stopped. He hadn’t opened the door. “Logan?”
She flipped the switch by the door, and her heart dropped. The room was empty, the door to the bedroom open, the bed stripped. No flowers remained. Nothing.
He was gone.
Chapter Eleven
The last place Olivia wanted to be the next morning was at work. But she had responsibilities to her clients, Logan Graham among them.
Logan. Her heart clenched at the thought of him, the worry lines that had been a permanent fixture on her face since the night before deepening. Ryan had ruined something beautiful when he showed up in her apartment, and she didn’t know how to get it back. Love at first sight...
Her desk was a mess, and there was a new paralegal standing in her doorway: hesitant, anxious, almost painfully eager to please. Olivia looked up at her, already exasperated. Ryan, exerting his control as her boss, had apparently cut Olivia out of the hiring process. She’d interviewed no one—hadn’t even been given the chance—and this woman wouldn’t have been her first choice. Not that she cared. At this point she just wanted to get through the day so she could turn her energy to looking for Logan.
“Come in,” she said finally, waving the dark-haired woman to the chair by the desk. “You’ll need to get used to the chaos. And learn how to help me control it.”
She shuffled through her papers. “I had your resume here somewhere. What is your name?”
“Victoria Hull. It’s nice to meet you.” The woman made a half-hearted attempt to extend a hand, looked at Olivia, and withdrew it.
“Look, Victoria. I’ll be frank. I’ve got a mess here. Melissa, my- the previous paralegal, left abruptly. I’m under some pressure here, on a lot of fronts, and things have gotten a bit out of control. I’m trying to keep things—really important things—from falling through the cracks.”
She cooped up a stack of envelopes and papers. “What I’d like you to start with is this. IT’s mail from the last few days. Open it, look for notices of filings, requests for information, anything that needs my attention. Date stamp it and put it back on my desk. The rest, correspondence and such, date stamp and save. I’ll look through it later.”
Victoria took the pile of papers from Olivia, rifling through the mess. “Anything you’re looking for in particular?”
“Yes, actually. Anything to do with the Graham-Ashton case. Here’s a case file. It was just filed, and I’m hoping for a quick reply from Ashton, though there
may be a counter claim. But really anything on that case is top priority.”
Just saying Logan’s name sent a flood of emotions through Olivia. Chief among them, at the moment, was the smoldering anger directed at Ryan. And, if she was honest, anger at herself, for letting things with Ryan get so far out of hand. She’d spend most of her sleepless night berating herself for letting Ryan manipulate her so thorough. She had yet to think about facing him, but it was inevitable. Sooner or later, she would have to deal with Ryan. After I get the paralegal settled.
“I’m going to ask you to sit in with me on client meetings as well. We have one scheduled at ten in the conference room.” Olivia’s frown deepened. Victoria was shaking her head.
“Mr. Marshall asked that I not do that. At least for now. He said he’d let me know when I could start sitting in.” Victoria’s final words trailed off into a whisper.
Olivia’s fingers went white-knuckled with tension against the top of her desk, a flush of anger rising in her cheeks. From the look on Victoria’s face, she was pretty sure her reaction was obvious. She took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. It wasn’t the paralegal’s fault, after all.
Forcing smile onto her face, she relaxed her hands and folded them demurely in front of her. “Fine. We’ll work up to that. For now, take the mail and the file. If you have questions, ask me. If I’m not here, ask Lori, Mr. Marshall’s paralegal. She’s been here longer than anyone, so she’ll know what to do.”
Olivia rose, but Victoria remained seated, looking at Logan’s file. Olivia resisted the urge to tap her foot. At the moment, she wanted to see Ryan, to ask him why he was taking over the training of her paralegal on top of everything else. She took another deep breath.
“Is this the Logan Graham from Revival?” Victoria asked, her eyes widening as she read. “I’ve wanted to see them in concern for so long, but all the US dates have been sold out for months. And they’re heading back to Europe, like, next week, so there goes my chance till the next tour.” She sighed. “He has such an amazing voice, too.”
