Page 41 of Flynn

“Yes. You were the one who said we should - we can have a conversation.”

“Work was great. The specifications for the offices were not up to scratch, and the moldings were not to my liking. The columns-” he paused and stared at her.

“Would you like me to go on? Tell you about wood splicing or the concrete work that had to be redone because of some structural damage. I was in several meetings as well. Would you like to hear about them?”

“Yes.” She nodded, forcing a smile on her lips and pretending she did not hear the hint of anger in his deep voice. “What were the meetings about?”

Tugging the black silk sweater over his head, he dropped it carelessly next to him and flexed his shoulders as if trying to eliminate the tension. Her heart jolted at seeing the bulge of muscles in his arms and shoulders. He was still wearing his white undershirt, and the material appeared molded to his flesh.

“One was with my board of directors.” He indulged her, of course, just biding his time and wondering if this was something that would serve to diffuse the awful anger he was feeling. “They want more time to decide what to do about the buildings we are trying to acquire.”

“And?” She was actually caught up in the discussion, hoping that he would just forget how upset he was.

His thick eyebrows lifted, and just when she thought he would not respond, he did. “We are still trying to sway them to our side. Now, how about we talk about your day?”

“I think we should concentrate on yours. It’s-” her voice tailed off as he rose, the catlike grace of his movements mesmerizing her as he approached her.

“Are you finished?” He gestured towards the cup she was holding.

“Er- not quite.” She grabbed at it as a diversion. “It’s delicious. Just the right amount of honey. Was it one spoon or two?”

He did not deign to respond but sat at her hip, his eyes holding hers. “Finish it.”

“It’s still hot. It will take some time-”

She stopped when he simply took the cup from her hands and put away the tray.

“How was your day?” he asked softly.

“Look.” Taking a deep breath, she shied away from looking at him. “I am feeling tired-”

“How was your day, Ryleigh?” His hand came up, and before she could move, he clamped his fingers on her chin, holding her captive.

“I- it was - You are hurting me.” She lied.

“I asked you a question, and no, I am not hurting you. Are you going to answer?”

“You already know.” She whispered. “Just - just leave me alone. I am tired.”

“I was on a conference call when your friend called me.”

“I never asked him to,” she said defiantly. “He had no right-”

“He had every right.” His fingers tightened on her chin. “I hung up immediately before ending the conversation and almost killed myself getting to the hospital.”

“You didn’t have to come-” She cried out softly when he yanked her head upwards.

“Who wants you dead? Or should I hazard a guess? You are still working on the case, aren’t you?”

“What if I am?” She blazed.

“I specifically asked you to give it up.”

“You ordered me to, and I don’t answer to you. I-” Her voice tailed off again at the murderous look on his face.

She was about to drag her face away from him when her defenses crumbled. Before his very eyes, he watched as her eyes brightened with tears before they started rolling down her cheeks. Suddenly, his intense anger slipped away, and with a muffled groan, he gathered her into his arms, rocking her as a mother would her baby.

Burying her head in his soft white shirt, she allowed the tears to fall. The shock of the attack rolled over her, and the thought of how near she had come to being murdered made her cry even harder.

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