I tried not to grin. “I have violet flecks?” I took the hand he extended and let him pull me into his arms.
“Only if you look very closely,” he said, pressing his body against mine. “And believe me, I do.”
I linked my arms around his neck as he stared into my eyes, then collapsed into laughter.
“You can’t laugh. I’m being romantic,” he said.
“Aww, I’m sorry. It’s just you’re very sweet. No one you do business with would ever guess. But I’ll make it up to you tonight. I’ll cook.” It would be fun to poke about in his kitchen.
He winced. “I have a dinner.”
It shouldn’t have bothered me, but for some reason it did. He hadn’t mentioned a dinner. I let go of his neck.
“Sorry, it’s a meeting with a company John forgot to tell me about.”
Relief fluttered in my stomach and I smiled. “No problem. Cecily has asked me to go around to her and her husband’s place for dinner on Saturday. Want to come?”
Ryder pushed his hands through his hair as he leaned on the table. “Sorry, I can’t. I have an awards thing. It’s been in the diary for months.”
A public business event I wasn’t invited to? I began to gather up our lunch cartons. A last-minute thing that John had forgotten to tell him about was one thing, but a big business event that had been arranged for months? Why hadn’t he mentioned it?
“Oh. Okay. I just thought I’d ask,” I said, sealing the salad container and putting it into the paper bag it came in.
“It’s at their house?” he asked. “The dinner with Cecily?”
“Yes. We just made our numbers this last month so we’re celebrating.”
He nodded. “Oh, that’s good.”
“Yes, it’s not a formal thing.” I wanted him to say he wanted to make it or ask me to rearrange it to a time when he could celebrate with us but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything at all. I dumped the remains of our lunch in the trash. “I better go. I have a meeting.” I started to walk toward the door of the boardroom.
“Don’t forget this,” he said.
I turned and he handed me the blue velvet jewelry box. “Thanks.”
“Hey,” he said, backing me against the door, his hands braced on either side of my head. “I’m sorry about dinner, but I won’t be late. Wait up for me?”
He had no need to be sorry. It was nice of him to apologize. He didn’t owe me anything. But did I want to wait up for him? The sex was amazing, but it was pulling me deeper. I wanted to be with him tonight, and every night. The realization hit me like a punch in the face. What was I playing at?
I smiled and nodded, knowing that I would be tucked up in bed, trying my best to sleep when he returned. I needed to create some distance between us.
Because more than that? I wanted him to change the rules.
I wanted more.
“Good morning,” I said as I walked into the kitchen to find Ryder sitting on one of the white stools at the breakfast bar. The Wall Street Journal was folded on the counter next to him and a bowl of what looked like fruit and yogurt sat half eaten.
“Good morning. Sleep well?” he asked, his tone neutral and not as if we’d not seen each other for the longest time since we left for England.
I’d heard Ryder call my name through my closed bedroom door when he’d returned the night before, but I hadn’t responded.
“Sure,” I replied, which was a total lie. I hadn’t slept at all. I’d lain awake all night, wondering if I’d made a huge mistake. Not in marrying Ryder and saving Cecily Fragrance from financial ruin, but by not being more cautious in keeping things . . . separate between Ryder and me. Sleeping with him over and over had confused things. Liking it was worse. Wanting anything from him—like for him to want to celebrate my successes with me—was as far as my feelings for Ryder were going to go. The creeping affection I felt for him, the way I wanted to tell him every little thing that happened to me while we were apart, it had to stop. It all had to stop.
At least the night of no sleep and the constant churning of my thoughts had given me a plan.
“You got a busy day?” he asked.
I glanced up as I poured my coffee to find him staring at me through narrowed eyes. Had he always been so devastatingly handsome?
That would be a yes.
I nodded. “I really do.”
“Okay,” he said, drawing out the vowels. “You want to eat out tonight? There’s a great Mexican place on the corner that’s really—”
“Actually, I’m going to head back to my place. I need to pick up a few things.” I needed some space. To regroup. Draw a line in the sand.
“You want me to come? I can help,” he said.
I eyed him over my coffee cup. “That’s okay. I can manage. And if it gets too late, I might stay over there anyway.” I turned and poured the remains of my drink down the sink and put my mug in the dishwasher.
“Scarlett,” Ryder said. It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t know him well enough to know whether it was going to turn into one.
“I have to run. Like I said, busy day.” I closed the dishwasher with a click and headed back to my bedroom. I shouldn’t have bothered with coffee.
He grabbed my wrist as I walked by, forcing me to halt and turn to him. “Did I do something?” he asked.
I was being a bitch. He hadn’t done anything apart from be gorgeous and generous and kind and funny. But it was just too much. “Of course not.” I forced my lips into a smile. “I’m just tired. I’ll let you know if I decide to stay at my place.”
Slowly, he released my arm. Part of me wished he hadn’t. If he’d tried to kiss me, I would have fallen into the pull between us and any hope of keeping my feelings shored up would be gone.
Twenty-Two
Ryder
“Can you hold my calls and make sure I’m not disturbed for thirty minutes?” I called to my assistant. I probably should have walked the four paces it would have taken to get to her desk on the other side of my office door, but no doubt after five years working for me, she was used to my impatience. She just got up and closed my door, which was exactly what I’d hoped she’d do.