WindSwept Narrows: #15 Rose Maddock

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WindSwept Narrows: #15 Rose Maddock Page 13

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen


  “You know…” She began dreamily. “I could very easily spend a week…just with you…” She leaned up on her elbows, dragging her tongue along his throat, satisfied when his breath caught. “You’re sweet and sexy and smart…” she shivered when she felt his palm gliding down the center of her back to her behind. “And very talented,” she added, her voice husky and low.

  “You’re making my ego swell, darling Rose,” Ryan chuckled until he felt her palm sliding over his stomach. One slim finger drew a line along his thigh and onto his growing erection.

  “Hmm…so that’s the location of your ego…I’d wondered…” She teased, laughing happily when he tumbled her to her back. Her palm was settled and making a gentle stroke along his cock when the unfamiliar voice echoed through the house.

  “Rose Elizabeth!” Bellowed the loud voice through the intercom.

  “Oh-my-god!” Rose pulled her hand away like it was on fire, her body bolting upright and hands going to try and cover her breasts.

  “I know you’re in there. I am not leaving until I’ve talked to you,” the deep voice informed the occupants.

  “Rose?”

  “It’s my father! Oh, god…where’s my clothes!” She squealed, bouncing to her knees and looking around frantically. She looked at him like he was insane when he tossed the emerald green tank top toward her. “I can’t wear that to see my father! Are you insane?” She hissed furiously, tossing the emerald green satin at him ineffectually.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Rose…” Ryan laughed as he went to the closet and shoved a long leg into a pair of jeans. “Will you calm down. He can’t hear you or see you.”

  He quickly walked to where she was and efficiently rearranged the tee shirt she was trying to pull over her head. He watched the amber circles pop through the opening and sighed, making the wild guess that their afternoon interlude was at a standstill. He slid his arms into a shirt, working the buttons before rolling the sleeves, watching her hopping around the room with one leg in her jeans and a scrap of pink lace peeking from beneath the end of her tee shirt.

  “I’ll go open the gates, you pull yourself together,” he told her trotting lightly down the stairs after snatching one of the thin strips from his bureau and tying his hair back.

  Ryan snapped the video into view before sending the gates opening, an expert gaze taking in the expensive rented vehicle and the man striding purposefully back to the drivers side. He opened the front door, watching the car glide easily along the lighted drive, his hands in his pockets and a slight shiver at the winds whipping around his loafer clad feet. A small part of him was trying to recall when, if ever, he’d met a parent of a woman he was seeing. Alright, perhaps seeing at this point was definitely the wrong word to choose, he thought briefly. But Rose wasn’t just any woman and his intents were far beyond merely seeing her.

  The two men appraised one another at a distance, the older one stepping from the car, straightening his vest and suit coat while taking in the younger man standing in the doorway. Ryan didn’t see a resemblance other than perhaps her height and slender stature. Very good shoes and well tailored, good material in the suit, he noted, his gaze shifting to the woman he was helping from the other side of the car. Slender, elegant and age appropriate. Short silver blond hair, a crème colored cashmere coat and artfully invisible makeup that brought out the natural beauty beneath.

  Ryan extended his palm when they came within range.

  “Ryan Flannary.”

  “Gregory Maddock and Cecily Turner.”

  “My pleasure, Ms. Turner. Mr. Maddock,” Ryan stepped back, gesturing them inside. “Rose should be down any minute. Can I get you something to drink? If you’ve just flown in, I know how that cross country flight can wear. Just lay your coats over the chair.” He listened to their request and went to the bar that had been set up on the other side of the room, his attention caught on the small sound he heard on the stairs.

  “You said my daughter would be down?”

  “We were…”

  “Hello Dad!” Rose rushed into the room, throwing a glare at Ryan that made him laugh softly. “Cecily!” She went quickly from one to the other, holding her father in a little longer hug. “This is…a surprise…” she cleared her throat, working to get her voice off the ceiling.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Gregory Maddock gripped his daughter’s shoulders tightly, a father’s glare going immediately to Ryan Flannary.

  “What…oh, no…no! Dad…Ryan didn’t…some…this morning…” Her hands flapped ineffectually, wild eyes going from her father to Ryan.

  “An escaped stalker escalated his behavior, Mr. Maddock. And chose Rose and a friend of hers, Daphne Paddington, to assault. He held Rose by her throat until she broke his hold and ran,” Ryan crossed the room, handing glasses tinkling with ice and their chosen drinks to each of them. “As I was saying, we were in the bedroom because Rose struck a tree with her head and has a headache for the effort.”

  “The man is in custody?” Gregory Maddock looked quickly at the hands of the man standing next to Rose. He knew bruised knuckles when he saw them.

  “He has a dislocated jaw and loose tooth,” Rose commented below her breath, meeting the deep blue eyes. “I called and checked on him.”

  “My attorney is handling things, along with the original attorney. We’ll find a judge that makes certain he doesn’t escape again,” Ryan assured him with coolly contained anger.

  “You’re alright?” He stepped back, steadying not only his voice, but the hand holding the glass of very fine scotch.

  “If you ask her, she’s fine,” Ryan gestured toward the living area. “Please, let’s have a seat. Do you want something, Rose?”

  “Ice water, please, and I am fine…a mild headache…oh, and the bruises…but they’ll fade…nothing broken,” she told them both, sliding her knee onto the sofa and sinking into the cushioned corner with a sigh. “How are you doing Cecily? And what in the world brought you guys all the way out here?”

  “I’m doing well, Rose,” the smile was genuine and polite. She liked Gregory’s daughter and they’d become friends through the years she’d been with him. “Your father is worried. Anthony Martin has been calling people trying to find you.”

  “Oh,” Rose wrapped two hands around the tall glass, her body moving automatically against Ryan when he sat beside her.

  “He’s found her,” Ryan took a slow taste of the brandy he’d poured for himself.

  “He’s phoned a couple times,” Rose said slowly, her head shaking. “I told him to leave me alone and I hung up on him. Him…and that man this morning…I don’t know how you combat people with that mentality.” She looked up from the ice she was studying. “You could have phoned me, Dad.”

  “We wanted to visit…” Cecily crossed her long legs, smiling at the younger woman. “He wanted to tell you he finally proposed, Rose. And I finally said yes.”

  Ryan immediately caught the glass she shoved at him when she bounced off the sofa and across to Cecily, hugging her tightly.

  “Congratulations! Oh, how great!” She went to her father with a little scowl. “It’s about time. You two work so nicely together…” she sat on the arm of the chair, hugging him warmly before moving back to Ryan. She didn’t protest when he turned her against him, her glass between her palms. She noticed Cecily’s hand. “You’ve already done it.”

  “We stopped in Las Vegas on our way here,” Cecily told her with a smile. “Very interesting choices down there.”

  “Somehow I would have pictured you two in a quiet little justice of the peace in Maine,” Rose said with a chuckle.

  “What are you doing about Martin, Ryan?” Gregory shifted into serious mode, his eyes intent on both his daughter and the man holding her protectively.

  “I’ve hired a private investigator. He’s trying to locate him,” Ryan took in a long, slow breath. “He left Boston and he’s somewhere in the area.”

  “I…he’s h
ere?” Rose pulled out of his arms and straightened up, barely aware of her hands shaking. “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Rose, this hasn’t been a peaceful kind of day,” Ryan said flatly. “I only found out this morning when you were closing out your apartment.”

  She recalled the conversation she heard half of, her head nodding slowly. “I’m sorry. I heard you when I came out…then the headache just got in the way of thinking.”

  “I’ve got an attorney going over the file you had,” he met the wide eyes. “Yes, I have it, yes I got it from your desk and yes I’m working to get a restraining order, to begin with, to keep him away and at the very least, throw him in jail if he violates it.”

  “Don’t let my daughter bully you, Ryan. Or cajole…she’s very good at both,” Gregory confided with a chuckle at the exchange he watched.

  “I’ve been exposed to both, believe me, and when it comes to her safety, neither will work,” Ryan told him honestly. “Especially after this morning…carrying you into the emergency room is not something I want repeated.” He chose to ignore the face she made, his attention back on Gregory Maddock. “How long will you be in town, Mr. Maddock?”

  “Gregory, please…and we’re staying a few days. I wanted to talk to Rose about some security, but I believe you’ve got a very solid handle on the issue, Ryan. The biggest problem with situations like this is getting women to tell people so they can be handled quickly, almost surgically,” the older man said vehemently, his head shaking. “I’ve instituted extremely strict procedures for all of my human resources people with severe consequences for those who want to pretend it doesn’t matter.”

  “Rose…are you up to showing me around your lovely home?” Cecily set the glass on the glass table top and stood up, peering around and walking to stare out into the massive patio and stretch of Puget Sound far below.

  “I…it’s actually Ryan’s house, but of course…” she went to her feet, looking from her father to Ryan with a suspicious frown. “I’m not sure I should leave you two to talk alone…”

  “Afraid he’ll offer pointers, Rose?” Ryan teased with a wink. “Go…we’re fine.”

  “I wanted to take you out to dinner,” Gregory told the departing pair, his gaze shifting to Ryan. “Both of you. Cecily was in the mood for Italian.”

  “I know a very nice Italian restaurant downtown Seattle, Gregory,” Ryan stood up and drained the glass in his hand. “Let me go change and we can talk then Rose can get ready. She’s missed lunch because of the sleeping pills…”

  Gregory Maddock stood with his wife and Ryan in the living area, chatting about business and the project that was taking on a life of it’s own in the city. A sweep of emerald caught his eyes and Ryan turned toward the stairs. Her head was bent and she was adjusting something at her wrist. He felt his stomach lurch at the same time his heart told him how important she had become to him. She’d worn the emerald dress, using the matching wrap to circle her throat, hiding the bruises.

  Rose looked up from the stairs and her own feet, smiling at the man striding forward to extend his palm to her. She leaned close to his ear before she went to the final step.

  “We need to discuss the odd things appearing in my closet,” she promised with a sweet smile

  Cecily laughed, sliding her hand through her husband’s arm. “I know the feeling, Rose. They believe they’re stealthy.”

  “Stealth never entered into it,” Ryan said easily, setting the alarm and leading them to the waiting SUV. “I have impulse issues,” he teased with a laugh, helping her into the SUV before closing the door on the wrinkled nose she offered.

  Rose couldn’t have envisioned the evening going any smoother. Or any more fun. She felt like smooth butter as Ryan guided them to the soft music playing in the lounge of the large restaurant.

  She stood on the door step, waved to the departing couple before going inside with him, trailing the wrap behind her as she climbed the stairs to their bedroom. She heard him setting the alarms as she carefully hung her dress up and stepped out of her shoes.

  “You managed to survive,” Ryan commented, pulling his tie free and draping it over the hanger. “I like him…your father. And Cecily suits him.”

  “She does…they’ve been together for almost twelve years,” Rose dropped the silky tank over her head and slid her legs into the pants. “It’s nice to see them again. I don’t think I realized how much I’d miss being around them until this afternoon.”

  “You’ve never talked about them,” Ryan stretched out on the bed, pulling the light quilt over them. They lay on their sides, facing one another.

  “Hmm…don’t guess we got around to family in our talks. He’s a lot like you, I think. Smart, sweet…” She smiled and laid her head down. “When he’d visit us…no matter where we were…and no matter the amount of time he had, he was always mine. Just mine for that time,” she recalled with the memories of a little girl who loved her father. “I guess he learned from grannie. It was never about stuff. We would go places and explore and learn things in the most amazing museums and art galleries in Europe.”

  “He’s worried about you, Rose,” Ryan pulled her over him, his hands running heavily over the satin pajamas she wore. His groan filled the mouth that pressed hotly against his. “They’ll be back tomorrow…about eleven.”

  “I know…we’ll talk about them later,” she promised, sinking all ten fingers into the thick strands when she tipped herself to the side, pulling him with her. She liked feeling him against her, wanted to feel him and touch him. Tonight was slow and sensual. Gentle, arousing and alive, she thought a long time later, her head snuggled into the soft pillows with him holding her firmly against him as they slept.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rose and Cecily stood in the doorway a little before noon, both women shaking their heads.

  “I think he’s found the son he didn’t have,” Rose said with a laugh.

  “I was thinking boys and their toys,” Cecily commented, climbing into the SUV and grinning at Rose. Both wore comfortable jeans and a bulky sweater. “I love exploring plant shops.”

  “We need dozens of tropical type plants and bright, colorful containers,” Rose said as she guided the large vehicle from the grounds and onto the road, following the directions offered from the GPS. Three hours later, she was very carefully backing the SUV behind the house. Ryan and her father had returned and she swore she could smell BBQ.

  “Something smells delicious,” Cecily sniffed as she helped Rose empty the SUV onto the stone patio behind the pool.

  “We missed lunch…sorry about that…”

  “We were a little caught up in shopping…”

  Both women looked up when the patio doors were spread wide, two men stepping out and completing the job of unloading before guiding the women into the house.

  “You ordered BBQ?” Rose asked, licking her lips and heading for the collection of containers spread over the dining table.

  “Your favorite place,” Ryan told her, the gratitude in her beautiful eyes making him wish the day was close to an end.

  “It is my favorite…and we’re starving,” Rose told him, accepting the plate he held out to her. She frowned when she saw her father hand him a twenty from his money clip. “What was that for?”

  “Your father bet me you’d already eaten,” Ryan said simply.

  “Oh…we were a little distracted…” She said with a glare at them both. “Do you ever tire of being right?”

  “Very little,” he returned with a cheeky grin. He’d been on edge since he went off to show her father the site. She’d left her phone on, though, at his request and he was able to know where she was. Until they located the man trying to insert himself into her life, he knew his tension would be high when they weren’t together. He ate and socialized and watched her with people she loved and respected and came to the conclusion he was on a personal high he never wanted to end. Having her frightened or hurt like she was this morning
was something eating at him since it had happened and top in his thoughts even as they bid good night to her parents.

  Rose knew the pajamas were a waste of time, but she did like the feel of his hands going over them and her at the same time. She sat cross legged in the middle of the bed, watching him come out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He went into the closet, deep in thought.

  “You and my father seem to get along well,” she said when he came to the bed, wearing a dark pair of cotton sleep pants. She frowned. He seemed to snap back from where ever he was and blinked at her.

  “Yes. I like him,” Ryan said simply. “Very smart business beliefs.”

  It was almost eleven when she watched him slide beneath the blankets, his eyes smiling at her when he opened his arm and waited for her to join him. Maybe he was just tired, she thought, content to be held as the night wrapped around them.

  Rose groaned and slapped at him when he patted her behind before disappearing down the stairs and out the patio doors. She knew he wore reflective bands on his wrists but she still worried. Still, not a lot of traffic at six a.m. on a Sunday morning.

  She tried to find a comfortable spot. Not that the whole, huge bed wasn’t comfortable, but it seemed less so when it was lacking its Irish content. Resolutely, she shoved the blankets aside and sat up, two sets of fingers dragged the thick, feather cut hair back. She drew in a long breath and went in search of clothing, thinking about breakfast and something for dinner later.

  Rose had coffee, a plate of sliced fruits and some yogurt by the time she heard the outside gate alarm sound his return. She was getting used to the high pitched beeps that announced the coming and going of people through either the foot gate or the vehicle gate. She was in their office on her desk computer, playing a game and chatting with friends when he wandered in with his coffee. It never failed to send ripples of electricity through her when he kissed his way along her throat before going to his desk and settling before the multiple screens.

 

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