Wait for Me

Chapter Eleven

“Don’t worry.” Mitch squeezed Kate’s knee as she leaned against the side of his desk in his home office. “They’re not going to freak out.”

She raised her brow and crossed her arms.

A sly smirk tugged at his mouth. “Okay, they’ll freak a little. But not that much.”

“I still don’t know why I have to be here,” Kate said.

“Moral support.” He picked up the phone and dialed. “I’ve had to deal with them by myself for five years. It’s time you started pulling your weight again.”

He swiveled away and began speaking into the phone.

Kate glanced at Ryan, who was leaning against the doorjamb. She wanted to be outside with Simone and the kids, not shut up in here with Ryan and Mitch. “Is he always this pushy?”

“Pretty much,” Ryan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Did I used to like it?”

One side of his lips quirked up in a winsome smile. The first inkling of smile she’d seen on his face. “Not a bit. You pushed right back. Just like you did with me in the kitchen.”

She turned away from the way Ryan held her gaze, looked back to Mitch and tried to tamp down the thrill Ryan’s words sent through her body. Mitch was doing his best to explain the situation to his mother. A frown tugged at Kate’s mouth. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going well.”

“Mom,” Mitch said into the receiver, “I’m putting you on speaker.”

Kate’s eyes grew wide, and she nudged him with her knee and shook her head, but it didn’t stop him.

“Okay, Mom,” Mitch said, “we’re all here.”

The line was quiet. Then Kathy Mathews’s voice chirped through. “Is Ryan there?”

“I’m here, Kathy,” Ryan said, stepping into the room.

“Ryan, is he telling the truth, or is this one of his jokes? Because if he’s kidding on this one, he’s definitely out of the will. You got that, Mitch?”

Ryan glanced at Kate. “No, Kathy. He’s not kidding. She’s real.”

There was silence again. “Is…is she there?”

Kate glared at Mitch. Oh, he was in so much trouble for this. “I’m here, too. He’s not lying.”

The line seemed to go dead. Then they heard sobbing. Followed by Roger’s voice. Mitch picked up the handset, turned off the speakerphone, and patted Kate’s knee. He went through the story with his father a second time.

When Mitch hung up, he let out a deep breath. “They’re coming down tomorrow. I managed to convince them to give you a day instead of jumping on the first plane out of Sea-Tac.”

“Fabulous,” Kate muttered. “That was really sweet of you, by the way, throwing me under the bus like that. Remind me to return the favor.”

“You’ll feel better once you have some food. You always were a grump when your blood sugars dropped.” He pushed out of his chair and headed toward the kitchen.

Kate knew Ryan was still behind her. How, she wasn’t sure. She just sensed him. “How do you think they’re going to react to all of this when they get here?”

“They’ll be fine,” Ryan said. “They’re good people. I’d be sure Reed’s with you tomorrow when you see them, though. That’ll give you a buffer.”

“Good idea.” She looked his way. “Will you be there?”

“I think I’ll sit this one out. Mitch will be with you.”

She nodded. But why did that bother her?

“I guess this is the last big shocker for awhile,” she said quietly.

Ryan looked down at his feet. “Yeah, I guess so. I told my parents this morning. They’re coming down later in the week, but you don’t have to worry. They’ll want to see you, but they’re mostly coming down to see me and Julia, and to meet Reed.”

“Okay.” The whole conversation was just awkward. Meeting her parents, meeting her in-laws, it was bizarre. “Just let me know when they get here. I’ll bring Reed over.” She tried to read his thoughts. Couldn’t. Doubted she ever would. “Did they not like me?”

“What?”

“Your parents, did they not like me? It doesn’t sound like they’re overjoyed at the thought of seeing me again. Not like Mitch’s parents.” She frowned. “My parents.” It was still a hard idea to get used to. She actually had parents.

“Yeah, they liked you.” His voice turned soft, the tenderness in it tugging on her. “They loved you.” He shook his head. “They know this is awkward for me, for us. They don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.”

No matter what anyone did or didn’t do, it was still uncomfortable. She didn’t know what to say in response. She desperately wanted to do something to make this better, though.

“Come on,” he said, breaking the silence before she could. “Let’s go get some food and see what the kids are doing.”

Thankful for the distraction, she followed him out into the kitchen, vaguely aware he was trying to keep the sarcasm and anger out of his voice. Since their moment in the kitchen, he’d been trying a lot harder to treat her with some sense of compassion, or at least with a little less hostility.

When they walked into the room, Mitch and Simone were working in the kitchen together, getting hamburger fixings ready to go, while Julia and Shannon set out chips and condiments. The girls had already struck up a fierce friendship. Reed just ran around getting in the way, like he was a regular fixture in the group. They looked normal. Like two families hanging out for a backyard barbecue.

It was only when you looked closer you saw it was just one giant mess.

The flickering lights of the TV in the corner of the room caught Kate’s attention. No one seemed to be noticing it, so she moved to turn it off, but her hand paused on the power button when the reporter mention Ryan’s name. Then her face flashed on the screen. And she sucked in a gasp.

Ryan stepped up next to her. The reporter was standing outside Ryan’s downtown office building.

“Channel Two News has recently learned that pharmaceutical giant Ryan Harrison, whose wife died aboard U.S. Airlines flight 1466 which crashed shortly after takeoff from San Francisco five years ago, received shocking news earlier this week. His wife may still be alive.

“Sources confirm this woman, Kate Alexander, agreed to undergo DNA testing to verify suspicions she is Harrison’s estranged wife. A source close to Ms. Alexander also confirms she suffers from a rare form of amnesia, which has blocked out virtually all of her long-term memory, making this discovery even more amazing.

“Harrison, shown here in video from the Governor’s Ball last winter, and his lawyers are not commenting at this time, but sources do tell us it is highly likely Ms. Alexander is in fact Anne Harrison. Ryan Harrison, CEO of AmCorp Pharmaceuticals, has very rarely spoken publicly about his deceased wife. His company has been involved in several questionable take-over mergers lately…”

“F*cking press.” Ryan flipped off the TV and headed for Mitch’s office.

Kate sank down onto the couch and covered her face. With trembling fingers she tried to rub away the headache already pounding away at her brain. As if things weren’t bad enough, now the story was all over the news.

Simone ushered the kids outside and sat next to her. Mitch followed Ryan into the office.

“Talk to me, Counselor,” Kate said.

“Well, I want to hear what Ryan’s PR people have to say, but I’m thinking you’re both going to have to make a public statement. It’s the only way we’re going to get the press off your backs. Odds are good they’re at your house right now, and at Ryan’s. I think you lucked out today by being here. As of yet, they haven’t found you, but they will.”

“Fabulous.”

She pushed off the couch and walked into Mitch’s office. Ryan was pacing with the phone pressed to his ear. Mitch stood in the corner of the room listening, his hands on his hips.

A chill spread over Kate. Ryan had definitely been frustrated and angry with her before, but this was different. His voice was icy, his face hard and rigid, and whomever he was talking to—and she assumed it was one of his lawyers—was taking the brunt of his fury.

“I don’t give a damn what they want,” he said into the phone. “My personal life is my own f*cking business. I’ve never commented on it before. I’m sure as hell not going to start now.”

Kate listened to his end of the conversation, not feeling any better judging by the number of times Ryan swore. When he was done, he tossed the cordless phone on the desk, dropped into Mitch’s leather chair, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. “What do you want to do?”

The question was meant for her. Kate looked to Simone, then back at Ryan’s hard face. “If we ignore it?”

“They’ll hound us until we break.”

Kate caught Simone’s nod of agreement. “So we face them head on.”

He met her gaze with steely eyes. “I don’t want my personal life strewn across the front page of the National Star.”

“Ryan,” Simone interjected for the first time, “I don’t think you have a choice in the matter right now. Either we give them something to print, or they’re going to do their damnedest to make up something much worse. I realize your need for privacy, but it’s the lesser of two evils we’re concerned with now.”

Ryan turned his icy gaze on Simone. “I hate the f*cking press.”

She smiled at the confrontation. “I’m sure they feel the same way about you.”

Simone slipped an arm around Kate’s waist. “I think we need to go over our game plan. We make it clear the children are off limits. You make a joint statement, act like you’re on civil speaking terms” —she shot a speculative glance at Ryan— “then answer a few brief questions. The whole thing will be over in a few minutes.”

Ryan let out a huff.

“And you, Mr. Multimillionaire,” Simone said. “You’ll be polite and courteous. The press will tear Kate to shreds if you’re an ass to them. I know it’s worked for you in the past, but this time you have other people to think about. This time, the press isn’t interested in your business. They’re interested in your family. It’s a whole new ball game.”



***



Not even a torrential downpour could keep the press away. Kate glanced out the window of the penthouse suite in the Hawthorn Hotel at the sheets of rain slamming the city. Dark and gray, much like her mood, no end in sight to the depressing day.

Turning away from the rain, she tried to refocus on what was about to happen, but every time she looked at Ryan, she was startled by the image he created. Surrounded by a group of men and one woman, he looked every bit the power player he was. He wore an expensive navy suit with a crisp white shirt and blue-checked tie, and somehow, dressed like that, in this environment, she could easily see why people were so intimidated by him.

She wished Simone was with her but she’d already gone downstairs to herd the press. While Ryan continued to ignore her and talk to his team instead, Kate’s anxiety amped. She’d seen how angry he was yesterday when the story had broken, but he had to know this wasn’t a normal event for her. Would a little humanity right now be too much to ask from the man?

A member of Ryan’s team peeked his head in the door. “It’s time, Mr. Harrison.”

Kate’s stomach fluttered. Here we go. She dropped her arms, straightened her jacket, all the while wondering how the hell her life had gotten so complicated. Before she could take a step toward the door, the lone woman in Ryan’s group approached her.

“Ms. Alexander, I’m Hannah Hughes, Vice President of Public Relations for AmCorp. Ryan’s brought me up to speed. I realize this is probably a lot to deal with right now and if there’s anything AmCorp can do to make you more comfortable, please let us know.”

Kate was about to respond when Hannah stepped past her and out into the hallway with the rest of Ryan’s team. Okay, so much for chitchat. That felt scripted.

Kate turned when Ryan walked up beside her.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded and swallowed the growing lump in her throat.

He stayed next to her as they walked down the hallway, the expression on his face blank and emotionless. For the first time since she’d met him, Kate wished desperately he’d say something, anything to her. Even yelling at her was better than this.

They rode the elevator in silence. No one—not a single member of his team—spoke. When the elevator pinged and the door opened, though, they were instantly swarmed by the press, by cameras flashing and reporters hollering questions. Ryan reached for her elbow and guided her into the conference room. TV cameras were shoved in their faces, blinding lights and microphones. For the first time, Kate caught a glimpse of Ryan’s public image, of how frustrating it must be to be in the spotlight. She didn’t like it. And she didn’t want it.

At the far end of the room sat a long table and a podium with a bank of microphones. Ryan’s team of lawyers filtered to the mikes where Simone was already waiting. Kate and Ryan stepped up behind them.

Simone leaned over. “You okay?”

Kate nodded, though what she really wanted to do was throw up.

Hannah Hughes spoke first, bringing a hush over the fifty or so reporters gathered in the room. “Good morning,” she said in a firm and confident voice. “I’m Hannah Hughes, Vice President of Public Relations for AmCorp. I’d like to lay some ground rules before we get started. Mr. Harrison and Ms. Alexander have asked me to read a statement, during which we request you refrain from asking questions. Afterwards, Mr. Harrison and Ms. Alexander will open the floor up for a brief question-and-answer session.”

She slipped on her glasses and glanced down at the prepared statement. “Five years ago, Mr. Harrison’s wife of seven years, seismologist Anne Harrison, boarded flight 1466 bound for Denver, Colorado.” What followed was a vague description of the events that brought them together.

Hannah didn’t seem to miss a beat as she read through the statement. She kept right on going, her gaze steady across the sea of reporters, never looking at any one person for very long, never showing a hint of emotion. The reporters listened intently, jotting notes and focusing on her words. Hannah glanced up when she finished, then stepped back and let Kate and Ryan approach the mike. Nervous tension ran through Kate, but she did her best to smile when the cameras turned on her.

“Good morning,” Ryan said. “If we’d have known there was going to be a three-ring circus here today, we’d have booked a clown for the festivities.” He flashed a mesmerizing smile—one Kate had never seen before—and several people in the audience laughed.

“Unfortunately,” he went on, his face hardening, “this situation is anything but a laughing matter. I don’t think I need to tell you that we’re just as shocked by recent developments as you are. Upon completion of this press conference, neither Ms. Alexander nor myself will be answering questions regarding our personal lives. I’d appreciate your cooperation in this, and request that you give us the space we need to deal with this situation on our own.”

As soon as he paused, a wave of arms shot into the air, followed by voices trying to be heard. Ryan pointed to one reporter and waited. “Can you tell us who recognized Ms. Alexander?” the man asked.

“Yes. Simone Conners, a lawyer here in the city.”

“Ms. Alexander,” another reporter asked, “can you explain how your memory has been affected since your accident?”

“I can try,” Kate said with a smile. “I’m not able to remember anything before waking up from that coma. My memory basically started eighteen months ago.”

Hands went up all over the room, and Kate pointed to a young female with red hair. “Ms. Alexander, how did you end up in Houston?”

“If I had the answer to that question we wouldn’t be standing here right now, would we?” She smiled and called on another reporter.

“Ms. Alexander,” a bald man with thick glasses asked, “did you recognize Mr. Harrison when you saw him?”

“No. I’ve seen plenty of pictures of Mr. Harrison, his reputation is legendary, but I never recognized him.”

“Ms. Alexander,” another reporter asked with a smile. “What do you think of Mr. Harrison’s renowned and somewhat ruthless reputation?”

For reasons she’d never understand, the press seemed to be focusing in on her. Kate tried to keep a calm outward appearance, but inside her stomach flopped all over the place like a fish out of water. Working for a smile, she said, “Mr. Harrison appears to be a shrewd business man, but I assure you he’s human just like everyone else.”

Her response garnered a wave of laughter from the crowd and raised brows from Ryan.

Kate pointed to another man. “Mr. Harrison,” this one asked, “how does it feel to see your wife again after five years and not have her recognize you?”

Ryan ignored the question, pointing instead to a young blonde in the front row. Kate shifted her feet, recognizing the tension pulsing from Ryan.

“Ms. Alexander,” the female reporter asked. “What are your intentions at this point?”

“At this point, I simply want to get to know my family again. I’m going to expect the press gives us time to accomplish that goal.”

Kate pointed to a reporter in the third row. “Mr. Harrison, what was your reaction when you saw your wife for the first time?”

“Shock.” He pointed to another reporter, obviously not wanting to elaborate or give them anything to go on.

“Ms. Alexander,” the man asked, “how did Mr. Harrison react when he found out you’d been remarried?”

How did the press know that? They hadn’t given any specifics about Jake or her marriage in that prepared speech. Kate saw Ryan’s jaw clench out of the corner of her eye. It was the only time through the whole press conference she’d seen him flinch.

“Ask another question,” Ryan cut in before she could answer.

“Ms. Alexander,” another reporter asked. “Have you filed for divorce from Mr. Harrison?”

Again, Kate watched Ryan’s jaw tighten, and she quickly answered before his temper kicked in. “At this point, we’ve hardly had time to digest the information, let alone make any decisions about the future.” She pointed to another reporter.

“Ms. Alexander, we understand you have a son. Have you had paternity tests run to verify if Mr. Harrison is his father?”

“We will not be discussing our children,” Ryan said before Kate could answer. “Any reporter who attempts to question our children will have to deal with me personally.”

Kate sensed his waning patience. “We’ll take one more question.” She pointed to a bald man in the fourth row.

“Mr. Harrison,” he began. “Considering California is a community property state, what legal action have you taken to protect yourself financially from Ms. Alexander and her lawyer from filing for divorce and seizing half your assets? It’s basically a foregone conclusion at this point. Isn’t it a nice little coincidence she waited until your net worth was at its peak to suddenly show up on the scene?” There was a hint of sarcasm in the man’s voice that said he couldn’t wait to see Ryan Harrison knocked down a notch.

“I’ll kindly remind you that you’re speaking about my wife,” Ryan snapped before Kate could step in and diffuse the question. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what conclusions you draw from the situation. Your freedom of speech doesn’t give you the right to pry into my personal life. This press conference is over.” He stepped away from the mike, grasped Kate’s hand, and pulled her behind him out of the conference room.

His assistant was already holding the elevator when they swept into the hall. Ryan let go of Kate’s hand as soon as the doors closed behind them. A muscle in his jaw twitched like it had a life of its own.

Kate swallowed, not quite sure what to say or do. When the elevator doors opened, Ryan yanked off his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. He tossed his jacket across the back of the couch and stalked into the adjoining bedroom. Kate let out a deep breath and closed her eyes as the door slammed shut.

That had gone about as well as a root canal. She couldn’t wait to see the papers tomorrow morning.

The door opened behind her, and a wave of suits filled the room. Hannah Hughes strolled in, slipped off her glasses, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well,” she said on a sigh, “that went well. So much for all the prep work we did with Ryan.”

Talking with Ryan’s VP of whatever wasn’t high on Kate’s list right now. She headed for the bedroom.

“I’d rethink that if I were you, Ms. Alexander,” Hannah said as she sat on a barstool and one of the other suits handed her a drink. “You’ll want to give him a while to calm down.”

“The hell I do.” Kate thrust the door open with her hip. It slapped closed behind her.

Ryan stood across the room with one hand braced high on the window frame, looking out across the bay at the waves of rain dousing the city.

“You really have a way with reporters, Ryan. I can see why the press loves you as much as they do.”

“Go away. I’m not in the mood.”

A half laugh, half yell bubbled through her. “I don’t really care what you’re in the mood for. You weren’t the only one in that room downstairs and if anyone should be upset it’s me. They didn’t sandblast your character or your intentions in this situation, just mine. They made me out to be some slut gold digger who turned up on your doorstep because she wants your money.”

When he didn’t respond, she stepped farther into the room, a little concerned he actually believed that bullshit they were throwing around down there. “Turn around when I’m talking to you. I’ve a right to see your face when we’re arguing.”

He spun around, and the enraged eyes and bulging vein in his temple told her his temper had reached its limit. “You’ve got no rights when it comes to me. You relinquished your rights when you walked out on me five years ago!”

“What the hell kind of statement is that? You’re blaming me now for this whole mess?”

“You were always too goddamned independent. I asked you not to go on that stupid trip, but you wouldn’t listen to me. You had to do just as you damn well pleased, like always, and now look at the f*cking mess we’re in.”

Kate’s eyes narrowed. “You son of a bitch. How dare you bring up something like that, something I don’t even remember. As you so easily reminded me yesterday, I’m your wife, not some measly peon you can order around and treat like garbage.”

She turned to leave, but he crossed the floor, grasped her arm, and whirled her around before she could get away. “My wife? That’s a laugh. Yesterday you didn’t want to have anything to do with being my wife, and now, when it’s convenient and you can use it, you throw it in my face?”

“Take your hands off me.”

“Or what?” He backed her against the wall, his height a looming advantage, more than evident to her at the moment. “If you’re my wife, don’t I have the right to touch you? Or are you the only one with rights around here? There’s a whole slew of reporters downstairs. Why don’t you just run down and tell them what an ass I am. They’re looking for something else to print about me.”

The heat from his hands all but burned the skin of her arm beneath her jacket. A dark fire brewed in his eyes, a hint of danger. Her pulse quickened, her senses peaked when she caught a whiff of his musky cologne.

She wasn’t attracted to arrogant, domineering men. She wasn’t. Not at all.

So why was her heart thumping wildly in her chest?

“Let go of me,” she said with as much calm as she could muster.

His jaw tightened. His eyes locked on hers. Long seconds passed as he stared at her. And in the silence, that connection she’d felt to him in the park flared hot all over again, dousing her anger and filling her with regret.

“Damn it.” He let go. Turned away.

She grabbed his arm. “Ryan.”

His whole expression softened when he looked back at her. And something in that look shot straight to her heart—a feeling she wasn’t prepared for or even expecting.

“Oh, hell.” His hands tangled in her hair as he pulled her mouth toward his. Those tempting lips crushed over hers. His tongue, rough and hot, dipped into her mouth when she opened. She reached for him before she even realized what she was doing, grasped his arms at the elbows. Dark flashes of arousal coursed through her, erupted in her center, spread through every limb and nerve ending.

He pressed her back against the wall, changed the angle of the kiss, took her deeper. The contrast in textures blew her mind—hard and firm against her hips, soft and sensual at her mouth. Need pumped through her, shooting spears of heat through her entire body.

She didn’t think to push away, only wanted more. More of his touch. More of his mouth. More of his wicked body pressing into hers. She trembled when his hands combed through her hair, streaked down her shoulders and arms to grasp her waist. Her skin tingled with each touch, every caress.

Those delicious lips trailed the line of her jaw, pulling a moan from her chest. She threaded her hands into his hair, the silky blond strands wrapping around her fingers. Dropping her head back, she offered him her throat. Shivered when his lips moved down her neck.

More, more, more. The words pounded in her brain, tightened her breasts, spread heat straight to her sex. An ache pulsed between her legs, one that needed to be filled. One that needed him to fill it. He fumbled with her jacket, thrust it over her shoulders, trapping her arms at her sides. The buttons on her blouse gave one by one; the front clasp on her bra popping open with little effort.

He eased back just far enough to look down, and a moan slipped from his lips. A moan laced with hunger. Kate’s skin tingled as he stared at her, and her nipples puckered when his hands moved over her breasts, teasing, molding, taking.

She wanted him. Needed this. When his mouth found hers again, she opened on reflex, drew him deep, tangled her tongue with his, and groaned when she felt the hard length of his erection press against her lower belly.

“I can’t believe how good you feel,” he murmured against her lips, his fingers rolling her nipples, sending shock waves of pleasure between her legs. “I’d forgotten what you taste like.”

She struggled against him, finally freed her arms and yanked the shirt from the waistband of his slacks. She needed to touch, wanted that sizzle of skin against skin.

“More,” she said against his lips, kissing him again and again. Common sense fled. Fire raced along her skin when he lifted her leg around his hip, when his hands hiked up her skirt, when his fingers brushed her mound.

Not enough. She had to have skin, needed heat.

He was wearing too many clothes. Dammit, she couldn’t get at him fast enough. She fumbled with his belt, then the button on his slacks while his mouth ravaged hers again. He stroked his fingers across her panties. His hips pressed into hers, his cock hard and pulsing against her. A promise of everything she wanted and needed and hadn’t realized she’d craved.

An irritating pounding sounded somewhere close.

She lifted her leg higher, rubbed against him. Moaned when tingles spread through her lower body.

“Kate?” Simone’s muffled voice echoed through the room. “Mitch is here with your parents. Is everything okay?”

No, dammit. Definitely not okay. Go away.

“Ignore her,” Ryan mumbled, kissing her jaw, her ear, her throat as he slid his fingers beneath the edge of her panties, so close to her heat.

“Kate?” Simone knocked again.

Dammit.

Kate’s head rolled back and hit the wall. Ryan’s hand stilled and his lips hovered against her neck. Long seconds passed in silence, then he dropped his face against her shoulder and let go of her leg, bracing his hands on the wall behind her.

She didn’t want to let go. She didn’t want to face reality. She trailed her fingers through his silky hair, trying to hang on to the moment.

“Kate?” Simone knocked once more.

“Answer her,” Ryan murmured.

Kate swallowed, struggling to breathe. “Yeah, I…I’ll be right out.”

“Okay,” Simone said.

“Jesus,” Ryan said. “I feel like I’m twenty-two again and your parents just walked in on us.”

“Did that happen?”

“More than once.”

“Oh, great. Now I’m going to have that in my mind when I meet them.”

His lips were but a breath from her skin, and as she felt his chest vibrate, she realized he was chuckling. It was a good feeling. A warm feeling. An I-didn’t-expect-this-but-I-only-want-more-of-it feeling.

But he pushed himself away before she could have more. And in his absence, her skin chilled with the reality of what they’d just done.

“Ryan.”

He stopped halfway to the bathroom, held his hands out to show her he wasn’t nearly as under control as he needed to be either. “I don’t think your parents need to see me like this.”

If his features hadn’t been cool and guarded once more, she might have laughed. Instead, her eyes slid shut as he closed the bathroom door. The room was suddenly too big, her skin too cold, and he’d just pulled up those damn walls again.

Had she really almost slept with Ryan Harrison after the way he’d just treated her? She cringed. No, sleeping with him implied something a bit more tender, a tad more intimate. What she’d almost done was let him screw her against the wall while his employees waited for him in the other room.

Way to go, Kate. So much for that resolve not to get sucked into combustible chemistry.

Considering her purse was out in the living room, she did the best she could with her appearance. She finger-combed her hair and wiped away her streaked makeup, then re-buttoned her shirt. Smoothing out her skirt, she checked her reflection one last time.

Her hair was one big tangled mess. Her lipstick was gone, and she had a sinking suspicion Simone would take one look at her and know exactly what had been going on in the bedroom while she and the other lawyers waited on the opposite side of the door.

Was she a complete moron?

Oh, yeah. It appeared so.

She ran her hands across her face, wished it would wipe away her stupidity. Unfortunately for her, it did nothing but remind her how sensitive her skin still was from Ryan’s mouth. She was fully aware of his reputation as a womanizer and a heartless bastard. And hadn’t he just proved it to her?

She smoothed out her hair one last time and lifted her chin. The key word in all of that was almost. Now that she was in control again, she could keep it from becoming an absolute foregone conclusion. Fate had stepped in and spared her this time. Next time, she’d be a little more cautious and a hell of a lot stronger against his advances.

Dammit. She chastised herself. There wouldn’t be a next time. She wasn’t going to become one of Ryan Harrison’s little bimbos, even if she was his wife.