Alison Kelly - Ryan's Rules

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing! Here—’ he shoved her handbag and jacket at her ‘—be a good girl and go home. OK?’

‘Fine! I’ll go home!’ Though his condescending tone made her angry enough to want to storm off in her best Thespian huff, she didn’t want to run the risk of his finding the hidden invoices should he need to get anything from her drawer. ‘Do you mind if I at least tidy up a little and turn off my computer first?’

‘By all means do whatever is necessary.’ He strode to the door. ‘But hurry; my meeting’s scheduled to start in ten minutes.’

Yeah, right! And my execution is scheduled for tomorrow, she thought miserably. There was no way she’d get that invoicing done now. Although perhaps if she came in early and skipped lunch…

‘Oh, and K.C.—’ about to open the drawer where she’d stuffed the invoices she froze ‘—do me a favour and feed that damn cat before you go to bed. If there’s not a constant supply of food in its dish the animal gets nasty. He attacked me the minute I walked in the door last night.’

Desperately regretting the fact that Major wasn’t a killer Dobermann, Kirrily nodded. ‘Sure,’ she mumbled. ‘No problem. Feeding the cat will be the high point of my evening.’

‘Damn stupid lock…’ Kirrily grumbled as her key failed for the second time to find its destination in the neardarkness.

Any other night the house was lit up as if Ryan had shares in the electricity company; tonight it was darker than London during the Blitz. It was already somewhere between three and four in the morning and at this rate she’d be lucky if she got to bed before the sun rose! Had she taken Jodie up on the offer of the sofa she could have avoided the fight with the front door. Dead tired, all she wanted to do was fall into her bed and sleep for a minimum of twelve hours, but even knowing that she was only a few hours away from having to appear perky and professional at work wasn’t enough to make her regret her impulsive decision not to spend another night at home. She mightn’t be the proverbial party animal, but she wasn’t a recluse either.

Finally the key found its mark and she waved a dismissing hand to the cab driver who’d solicitously watched her progress down the driveway to ensure that she wasn’t mugged before getting into the house. A few months ago she’d have laughed off as ridiculous the possibility of that happening to her, but not any more. An involuntary shiver shook her body and she determinedly willed her mind back to the matter in hand.

Mindful of Major’s habit of trying to escape at every opportunity, she eased the door open just wide enough to squeeze through then quickly pivoted, shutting it a second before she felt the cat dart past her leg. ‘Sorry, Major,’ she whispered into the darkness. ‘I win again.’

Sportingly the cat curled around her shins in welcome, but as Kirrily leaned down to pet it a hand closed around her upper arm. Her heart stopped mid-beat, raw terror paralysing her and choking her hysterical scream to a mere whimper.

‘Where in God’s name have you been?’

Enmeshed in fear as she was, not even immediate recognition of Ryan’s voice calmed her. Though her brain told her she was safe, her body hadn’t accepted the fact; her heart continued to pound in her ears and her skin still crawled with goose-bumps.

It’s Ryan, her brain chanted. It was only Ryan who grabbed you. Ryan won’t hurt you.

‘Answer me, K.C.! Do you have any idea what time it is?’

No matter how angry he sounds, Ryan wouldn’t ever hurt you. It’s OK. You’re safe—

Light suddenly flooded the entrance hall, its intrusive glare making her close her eyes. She sagged back against the wall, grateful to have something other than her trembling legs to support her.

‘Geez!’ Ryan’s voice dripped with disgust. ‘You’re so drunk you can barely stand up!’

Kirrily knew she should have been furious, with both the accusation and the delivery of it, but the relief and fatigue monopolising her body left little room for indignation. She was safe. Nothing was going to happen to her. As the realisation sank in it was impossible to suppress a smile.

‘This isn’t a laughing matter, K.C.!’

Slowly she rolled her head against the wall. ‘I’m not drunk, Ryan,’ she said wearily. ‘A tad tipsy, a little tired and in severe shock, but definitely not drunk.’

‘Good! In that case you’ll at least be able to open your eyes and explain where the devil you’ve been all night and why you didn’t see fit to let me know you were going out!’

That was when Kirrily discovered that even in shock she had a very short temper. Oh, she opened her eyes all right! And she saw red! The parentally outraged tone of Ryan’s words had been bad enough, but that he had the audacity to look as if he actually expected her to answer him was simply too, too much!

‘I…beg…your…pardon,’ she enunciated, through gritted teeth, ‘but you are not my father! Nor am I accountable to you for my comings and goings.’ She refused to be intimidated by his narrow-eyed glare. ‘I might be working for you, Ryan Talbot, but I clock off at five and what I do after that is my business and nobody else’s!’

‘Like hell! It’s mine while you’re living under my roof, damn it! Do you have any idea how worried I was when I got home after midnight and you weren’t here?’

‘I’ll bet not half as worried as I was when I walked in the door a few minutes ago and got mugged in the dark!’

‘I didn’t mug—’

‘You scared the living stuffing out of me!’ she raged, holding her hand out in front of her. ‘You think I shake like this for no reason?’

The sight of her small, delicate hand trembling in midair between them and the tears streaming down her face made Ryan want to cut his throat.

Hell! She wasn’t angry, she was damned near hysterical! Consoling her became his first priority, and once it did drawing her into his arms became as automatic to Ryan as his next breath. Expecting her to fight him but instead having her fall willingly against him and wrap her arms around him as if she feared to let go worried him far more than her earlier absence had.

K.C. didn’t like him coddling her—he’d known that for years—so what the devil had happened to her tonight? Knowing she was too distressed for him to question, he instead tried to calm her.

‘I’m sorry, honey,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’ Keeping his voice soothingly soft and low, he stroked her head in the gentle, repetitive way he’d used to calm Jayne over the years. ‘It’s just that I was waiting for you and when I heard a noise at the door I came straight on through; I never thought about turning on the lights. I’m sorry. Shh, take it easy. It’s OK.’

He had no idea how long he stood propped against the wall with her fragile frame leaning into him; it seemed like mere minutes, yet at some point he must have dozed off because the next thing he knew with any real certainty was that K.C. had fallen asleep and the hesitant light of dawn coloured the room. Stiff from having one leg braced against the wall for balance, he shifted slightly, trying not to disturb K.C., whose head rested against his chest.

The serenity she reflected in sleep was so at odds with the energy she emitted when awake that Ryan was helpless to stop himself from tracing the arch of her right eyebrow. While K.C.’s features were too elfin to be called classically beautiful, what otherwise might have been called prettiness was enhanced by her gypsy-like colouring, which hinted at mystery and passion. Ryan watched as his palm moved to caress her amber-tinted cheeks; they were softer than anything he’d ever felt.