WindSwept Narrows: #15 Rose Maddock

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  There was simple again, he mused, pouring coffee and taking a long, slow taste of the flavorful blend. A blend he had made for him and didn’t shy from paying the price for it. His free hand rubbed over his neck. He rolled his shoulders and had a bad feeling that made him look toward the computer. Neither his phone or the computer had made a noise, yet something….

  He quickly knotted the tie, drained the rest of the coffee and finished the toasted bagel Rose had left for him before dashing out to the health center. Ryan Flannary made it to the door of his suite seconds before the knock echoed through the early morning. He’d come in from his run in time to grab Rose up by her shoulders, take a long, hard kiss and watch her dash out.

  “Brought you a present, boss…and I hope it’s doesn’t end up being a problem,” the forty something man pressed the folded newspaper into the chest of the man he worked for, dragging one palm over the damp, shortly clipped pale hair and heading to the kitchen.

  He let the door swing closed, his hands opening the local paper and glancing over at Hayworth.

  “Clues?”

  “Try the business section…oh, and then definitely the social pages,” he poured coffee and went digging in the fridge for milk. “You never have milk.”

  “I don’t drink milk,” Ryan answered absently, fingers tightening to almost white when he caught the photos. Someone had caught him with Rose. In the restaurant, on the track and in the hot tub. He swore emphatically, crumpling pages as he went in search of the society version. “Christ…I hate the press…”

  “Yeah, I thought that might irk,” he leaned against the counter, elbows back.

  “I’ve got to be downtown,” he tipped his wrist up and grabbed a brief case from the desk, checking the contents and dropping the paper inside.

  “I’ve sent you some links to houses in the area. Two I think you’ll find fitting what you want,” Hayworth drained the cup and matched his stride with Ryan’s.

  “Thanks, I’ll look them over,” he shook his head, staring straight ahead as they walked to the waiting car. “Maybe she doesn’t read the papers. Very few people do these days.”

  “Hold that thought, boss,” he responded with a low chuckle, sliding behind the wheel and tapping the desired address.

  Chapter Eight

  Rose had one of the ear pods in place as she drifted along the moving walkway to her office, absently waving at people who called out to her. Frowning slightly at the looks from people she didn’t know. She went into the health center and realized that a few people had even stopped walking to point at her. And stare. She made a quick swerve into the restroom and stood in front of the mirror. Zippers were checked. She turned to the side, bent over and looked for rips in her jeans and was found that way by Mariah Peyton.

  “Should I ask?” She tilted her head, peering down at the amber eyes.

  “Paranoia?” Rose straightened up and lifted her pack. “I’m good. Have a great day, Mariah.”

  The morning was smooth and productive, she mused as she entered the cafeteria, refusing to acknowledge the bent heads and whispers. It wasn’t about her. It was just a normal day, she told herself. Three times before she finally walked up to table of waitresses, one of them a friend of hers.

  “Ashley, what is it?” She looked down at the newspaper spread on the table beneath their trays. Rose reached out, fingers carefully moving the trays and plates to the sides until her face beamed a brilliant, toothy smile up at her. The words came out in a low prayer. “Oh, my god…”

  “That’s you, isn’t it?” Ashley said with a shrug, one carefully designed finger nail tapping a color photo from the night they dined with Jean Paul and Renee'. “And the gorgeous hunk with his hand in your hair?”

  “That is me…and Ryan…” Rose spoke each word slowly.

  “You’ve been keeping secrets, friend,” Ashley teased.

  “New beaus are always interesting chatter,” another of her friends remarked.

  “I’m thinking Ryan is not going to be pleased with this,” Rose said softly, telling her friends goodbye and taking one last, long look at the photos. She pulled in a long, steady breath, turned and strode from the cafeteria, stopping at the news stand and buying one of the papers.

  She spent her break going through the paper, page by page. She cut out the two articles and all the photos, tossed the rest of the paper in the recycling bin and spread the collection on the desk. The office had emptied out at four. Rose read through the article on the business page.

  Ryan Patrick Flannary. She picked out the descriptive words. Industrialist. Capitalist. Financier. Entrepreneur. Financial genius. CEO. Owner.

  Rose slid back in the chair, trying to slow her breathing. It felt like it was stuck somewhere in her chest and wouldn’t work. Pulling a long draft of air into her lungs, she sat up and shifted to the article from the society page.

  Again, Rose pulled words from the article. Wealthy, eligible, handsome, single. Unlikely companion. Wife.

  “Oh, god…” Rose felt her bones shake. They had spoken with Renee’ and Jean Paul sometime after their dinner together. Now they believed them married.

  ‘Interviews indicate that Flannary is private and refuses to share insight into his personal life, which leaves those broken hearted women hoping for a chance at the wealthy industrialist out in the cold. It appears he’s married a simple accountant associated with the reclamation project. But appearances can be quite deceptive.’

  Rose felt a cold shiver racing along her spine.

  She slid the cut out pieces of news print into a pile, folded them in half and tucked them into a small pocket on her backpack. The zipper was sliding closed at the same time her phone went off, a quick glance at the read out retriggering her brain and memory.

  “Oh, crap!” Rose said into the phone. “I got held up. I am on my way, I swear it!” She promised into the phone, snapping it closed, grabbing up her jacket and making a dash for the door. She made sure things locked behind her before hitting the underground at a clip much faster than the moving walkway.

  Ryan stood on the court, laughing at the phone before it went dead and he knew she was doing what she claimed to dislike, running. He was practicing, relaxed when the door burst inward and the tornado entered and slid into a corner where onlookers couldn’t see her. She hadn’t bothered with the dressing rooms and was busily stripping off work clothes and shimmying into a tank leopard and pair of shorts. He decided there wasn’t anything for a smart man to do but enjoy the show and running commentary.

  “I am seriously sorry, Ryan. I got wrapped up in something and…poof…the time was gone and…what the heck…” she stopped and pulled a small sock from inside her shorts, frowning and dropping it to her pack and shooting a scowl to the man leaning casually against the wall watching her. “Voyeur.”

  “I confess,” he said with a sigh, straightening once her clothes were in place and she was tying her shoes. He dropped to his heels, one finger beneath her chin to tilt it up for his kiss. “Hi…”

  “Hi…” Rose could see the butterflies shooting off in all directions in her stomach when he looked at her like that, when that sexy mouth brushed hers with barely a touch. She bounced to her feet and accepted the little ball he bounced to her, a vague glance at the clock behind them. They’d only lost ten minutes court time. “Ready?” Came her polite inquiry, positioning herself and beginning their game.

  Their game, while competitive, at least left them both breathing easier than the night before. Up until the end when Rose didn’t quite move fast enough and caught the stinging of the ball against bare flesh on one shoulder. She swore softly at the same time the buzzer sounded, one hand up to catch the ball as it came flying toward them again. But Ryan moved quicker, the ball snatched out of the air to keep it from striking her again.

  “Alright?” He followed her lead and collected his bag from the opposite corner while she went after hers.

  “Stinging. Part of the game,” she said with a shrug.r />
  “How about a shower at home. I had dinner ordered up for six thirty,” Ryan took her hand once they were in the hall, leading her along the corridor to the hotel.

  “Works for me,” she breathed, leaning on the rail of the moving walkway and closing her eyes. “Nice game.”

  “Yesterday was a little more brutal than I like against you, Rose,” he told her, his grin crooked when she opened one eye.

  “Hmm…true…I’m pretty sure you don’t hold back,” she teased, letting him tug her closer, bracing her between his palms. “No distractions. We’ll miss the exit…”

  “I’ll save the distraction then,” he promised, kissing her firmly, warmly before straightening and letting her lead them through the employee maze to the hotel. Not quite five days, he thought, letting himself enjoy the fluid way she moved, the warmth in her hand and twinkle in her eyes when they played.

  They were striding toward the elevator when his name was called.

  “Mr. Flannary?” A young woman in a fitted blue suit had raised a palm near the front desk, her smile warm and welcoming. Her charm was part of her job and she enjoyed it a great deal. “I have the extra room key card you requested.”

  Ryan shifted his gym bag and took the card, handing it to Rose.

  “Thank you…for you, in case I’m not on time for something and you need into the room,” he commented, nodding at the young woman and leading Rose to the elevator.

  Rose felt her insides grumble. Nerves, she thought.

  “Rose?” He watched her closely, saw a hint of pale ease into her features.

  “I…” She stared at the embossed key card in her hand, her head shaking before quickly shoving the nausea down. “I’m alright.”

  “We never did get around to that discussion about which bothered you more,” he said quietly, his key card slid into the slot of the suite, the door shoved wide for her.

  “I spoke to human resources today,” she admitted, striding ahead of him into the bedroom and hanging up her clothing before sitting on the bed and untying her shoes. “I like my job. I don’t want to lose it because I’m…I’m here…but at the same time, I don’t want to lose you…us…”

  “And their answer to your question evidently must have cleared us both, as you are…here,” he remarked carefully, leaving his bag near the front door.

  Rose leaned back, her eyes closed as she recalled her talk with Abby Rollins. “One doesn’t have anything to do with the other. I’m not….not running naked through the grounds and putting an embarrassing light on the hotel or resort.”

  “I’m relieved,” he said, grinning when she glared at him. “I’ll work to contain myself. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with your friends, Rose. I’d never intended…” He stopped when the knock came on the outer door. “You shower and change. I’ll get dinner set up and use the other bathroom. Then we can talk more about it, alright?”

  “I won’t take long,” she promised, pulling a light short robe from the closet and heading into the bathroom. She stripped quickly and put the robe on, listening until she heard the water begin in the other bathroom. Rose hung the robe up and quietly opened the shower door, wide eyes meeting the surprised look on his face when he saw her set one of the foil packets on the small shelf.

  “Rose…”

  “I think you need someone to wash your back,” she told him, turning him to the tiles before he could protest, his laughter deep but trailing to nothing when her hands began massaging his body with liquid soap. She allowed the female in her to relish the feel of his muscles, from beneath his arms to the flat stomach and onto his hips and legs. Fingers teased and stroked over his arousal, a sense of satisfaction and feminine delight at his reaction to her touch. He tried to turn, but she leaned against him from behind, seductively pressing her wet body against his.

  She was laughing when he spun to face her, gasping breathlessly through his kiss. She heard him fumbling with the condom seconds before she felt his strong fingers pressing hotly between her thighs, opening her, stroking the moisture to coat his entrance. Rose felt the tiles behind her, bracing her as she lifted one leg and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him closer with each thrust he issued, taking him deeper. A low, needy whimper broke from her lips when his mouth trailed over her jaw to her ear and his hand slid through the cascading hot water to stroke the swollen nub demanding his attention.

  Her arms went to his shoulders, hands speared the wet hair and holding his mouth hungrily to hers. She tugged gently until he lifted his mouth, dark blue eyes filled with flames brought a shiver through her, in all of her at once. But her mind was clear enough for what she whispered against his lips.

  “Don’t hold back, Ryan…never hold back with me,” she heard the smallest of growls before his mouth was on hers again, their tongues stroking and his hand arousing her demandingly.

  Her body erupted, broke through the last strand of control. Muscles clenched and circled him, granting him a few more strokes before he exploded, his voice ragged and echoing off the tiles around them. Their kiss broke off, deep drafts of air pulled into each of them, their foreheads touching as steamy water washed over them.

  “I’m glad we have a bottomless water heater,” Ryan murmured, slowly letting her leg slid along his body until she touched the floor.

  “The advantage of a hotel,” she giggled, sweeping her hair back and tilting her face to one of the shower jets above her.

  She quickly soaped and washed and stepped out to find him leaning against the door jamb, holding a thick white towel for her. Another circled his waist. He wrapped it snugly around her, pulling her against him. His head shook in amazement.

  “A problem?” She asked softly, liking the way his palms skimmed over her hips and let his fingers twine with hers at their sides.

  “A puzzle…”

  “Can I ask why these…puzzles…are bothering you?”

  He considered this. “Answers…no, more than that…stepping into the unknown…”

  “That could easily be a puzzle,” Rose let herself lean against him, slipping her hands free and laying them across his chest, fingers twirling in the long strands damp from their shower and resting on his shoulders. “I was thinking this morning…posting batches…glancing at the calendar…tomorrow morning is only five days. Five very alive, almost magical days…but sometimes it feels like so much longer.”

  “Very sentimental of you.”

  “Yeah…sometimes girls are like that,” she returned, very aware of the smile in his eyes and the slight catch in his voice. She thought about the one inch cloisonne lapel pin she had found in one of the shops that afternoon before she went to lunch. “I think we should discuss your puzzle over dinner. Ravishing you takes a lot out of me.” A bright, loud startled yelp left her lips as she was swung high in his arms and carried through the suite to the bedroom where he lowered her at the closet, his laughter deep and happy.

  “Ravishing me,” he repeated the phrase thoughtfully, both of them finding clothes to lounge in for the evening before heading for the laid out, covered plates on the table. She wore a simple white night shirt type thing with tiny pink and gold pin stripes.

  “I’m a little new at it…this ravishing stuff…so you’ll have to excuse any miss steps along the way,” Rose told him, peeking at him through lowered lashes as she lifted the plate and heard her stomach growl hungrily. She quickly removed all the covers which only made her stomach scream that it was definitely past meal time by the time she had set the covers aside. A nice looking fresh salad, raspberry vinaigrette on the side and some crunchy looking little cakes drowning in icing for dessert. She didn’t wait for him to comment, her fork filled with pasta and creamy sauce with a prawn on the tip for the heck of it.

  “I know your weakness for pasta,” he commented, enjoying the seafood soup he’d ordered for himself.

  “This just seems so…decadent. I feel guilty…”

  “I tip well,” he promised, eyes laughing at her from across
the small table. “We both work all day. A little luxury isn’t a crime, Rose.”

  “My comments earlier…about money…they bothered you, didn’t they?”

  “No. Not in the least,” he answered instantly and honestly. “For what it’s worth, I agree with the things you’ve said. Maybe that’s why I’m involved in this project. The opportunity to genuinely create something for all is quite challenging.”

  “Another puzzle?” She asked, eating and watching him.

  “Aye…perhaps…” He liked her curiosity, enjoyed her questions. “Providing employees with a decent wage, a safe, satisfying work environment isn’t an easy task. Even more difficult is weeding out those who want only to exploit both without giving back.”

  “You work hard. And all the time…” She met the single arched brow. “Alright, not all the time…but it’s always with you. Inside. Sometimes before you pull a shield over it, I can see the frustrations in your eyes.”

  “All that in five days, Rose?”

  She chose to ignore that comment, quickly gathering plates and carrying them in to the kitchen and washing dishes.

  “Rose…” Humor hinged his voice. “Hotel staff will collect that in the morning.”

  “No problem. Habit, I suppose…” she popped one of the small cakes into her mouth with a dreamy sigh as she collected the salad bowls and silver, clearing the table of all but the plate of cakes. She half watched him move to the desk, his hands moving expertly over the keys of his laptop.

  “I’ve something I want you to look at, Rose,” Ryan pulled another chair to the side for her, waiting leaned back and patient. She carried a glass of water with her, peering at the screen in front of him.

  Chapter Nine

  Rose felt her breath catch. Not from what she saw on the screen. But from what intuition was telling her.

  “Ryan…”

  “There are two I’ve been looking at…” he split the large screen, showing her the external view of both. “I’d like your impressions.” His palm was out to quickly grasp hers when she turned to walk away, her head shaking.