Chapter 15

Maurice saw him coming and felt the fear tugging at his heart. He hated it. They hated that this man could so unnerve him.

"Call them off," Flynn told him coldly as he pulled out a chair.

"Why the hell should I?" Maurice growled, shoving away the crab salad he had been enjoying. The last time he was having his meal, Flynn had spoiled it. Now he was here again. "Do I force my way into your business meetings?"

"You wouldn't get near enough. How is the salad?" he asked softly.

"It was great until you showed up. How the hell did you know I would be here?"

"You are very predictable. For a gangster, you are not very smart, are you?" The contempt in his voice was evident. The two goons had backed down somewhat, but both still had their hands settled suggestively on the bulge in their waists.

"But then, you were never brilliant, were you? Even when we were growing up. Was that why you chose the path of less resistance?"

Flynn watched as the man's eyes turned flinty, his face hardening. "I would suggest you get the hell out of my face."

"Or what?" he flicked his eyes upwards, taking in the men behind Daley. "You will send those two fools to camp at my place? Enquire my whereabouts, as you did at the DA's office and Ryleigh's home?"

"I don't know what you are talking about." Maurice fiddled with his utensils and avoided Flynn's eyes.

"I did warn you."

"You threatened me!" he hissed. "And if were anyone other than you, I would-"

"What? Send your goons to cut my throat? Stab me in the back? Because that's your style, isn't it, Maurice? You don't come at anyone from the front. You are a goddamn coward, and this is going to be my last warning."

"I am not afraid of you." The man lied, hating that he was sweating copiously.

"We both know that's not true," Flynn said mildly, sliding the folder he had brought across the table.

"What's this?"

"Why don't you open it up and see? I presumed you learned to read?"

Eyes flashing, Maurice opened the folder and drew his hand back, the shocked look on his face undeniable. "What—how?" He swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared at the comprehensive files and glossy photos of the most important person in his life. "What are you going to do?" he finally asked.

"That depends entirely on you." Leaning back in the chair, Flynn eyed the man closely. Bert was right, as usual. This brother means the world to the man. He had never seen Maurice so frightened or so vulnerable.

Love does that to people. When he heard that men were fishing around at Ryleigh's work and her place, he felt the fear overriding the anger; he wanted to shield her from everything and would do anything to accomplish it.

Anything.

"If you hurt him-"

"No." Flynn shook his head. "See, I am not like you, Maurice. You exploit people by using their perceived weaknesses against them. But one has to be careful that it does not happen to them as well." He leaned forward.

"We all have people in our lives who - shall we say - make us want to be protective, to spare them from others who want to hurt them." His expression hardened. "

Ryleigh is that person to me. I would go to the ends of the earth to protect her." He flicked a hand at the folder. "That's your Achilles heel, and I am prepared to use it to get my point across."

Maurice tore his eyes from the open folder to stare at him. "You son of a bitch." he whispered.

"Now, Maurice," his teeth bared fiercely. "Is that any way to talk to a woman who fed you from the small amount of food we had in what we loosely called a pantry?" Flynn leaned closer, ignoring the two men who advanced.

"Back the hell off - completely off. I don't care about your illegal enterprises; you will get what's coming one day. I care only that you stay away from Ryleigh. Am I clear?"

Maurice felt as if he was choking- as if the food inside his stomach, which had not entirely digested, was coming back up. Sweat beaded his forehead, and he felt his heart hammering inside his chest.

"Is she going to stay out of my business?" he asked hoarsely.

"That's up to you, isn't it? Might I suggest you keep a low profile? Better idea, why don't you go somewhere else where you don't come to the attention of the DA's office?"

Maurice gulped. "That's impossible. I live here. My work is here." "Then you will just have to keep a low profile."

"Screw you-"

"Think of Nathan - bright and budding. From what I read, he wants to be a lawyer. I applaud his ambition." Amber eyes hardened to flints. "I would hate to see that brought to a premature end."

"He is just a kid." Maurice hissed, his bowels turning to water. "You wouldn't hurt an innocent kid."

"What would you do to protect him?" Flynn nodded to the photo. They both looked down and studied it together. It showed a handsome boy laughing as he stared at a girl who seemed to be in the same age group.

They were both seated underneath a Red Maple. He had his back against the trunk, one knee bent, and a book opened on his lap. The girl - sunlight glinting on her blonde hair, leaned against him in an intimate pose. "Girlfriend?"

Maurice nodded jerkily.

"She seems nice."

"You made your point."

"I sincerely hope so." Pushing back his chair, he rose. "Keep the folder. I have another. Enjoy the rest of your meal." Flynn encouraged almost pleasantly. "And do try the pecan surprise, it's delicious."

Maurice watched him stride away, the red haze of anger distorting his vision. Looking down at the photo, he curled his fingers and made a tight fist, his heart hammering inside his chest.

*****

"You are exquisite," he whispered behind her as he closed the clasp on the stunning diamond necklace he had given her along with the square-cut one that was her engagement ring.

She was five months pregnant and barely showing. The dress was styled so that it covered the slight bump and swirled around her from waist to ankles in a gossamer cloud of emerald green. The bodice was snugly fitted, the sleeves transparent and gathered at the wrists, echoing the material of the top of the dress.

She placed a hand over the necklace and met his eyes in the mirror. They were still tentatively cautious about the pregnancy.

Nothing untoward had happened after the two weeks she had spent in bed, and she could return to work at a diminished capacity. The pregnancy was going wonderfully well, but Flynn was still determined to treat her like a Dresden China. It was as annoying as hell.

He made love to her with unusual gentleness as if he was going to rupture something if he did otherwise.

The papers were full of their sudden romance, and they were photographed wherever they went. The wedding was in June, and she could not do anything except pick out her dress. She had stopped arguing with him because it was exhausting. Julia was no better, insisting on arranging everything with the wedding planners.

"I am allowed one glass of champagne." She warned.

His dark brows lifted. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You monitor my every move whenever we are at a function, attaching yourself to me as if you are my shadow." She complained.

Reaching for her wrap, he draped it around her shoulders and turned her to face him. "I am just doing my part."

"What part is that?"

"Being an attentive and concerned fiancé." Tilting her chin, he studied the exquisite face with a rebellious tilt to the stubborn chin and grinned at her. "I love you to pieces."

"That's not going to work." She grumbled, but she was lying, and they both knew it. He could turn her insides into jelly whenever he declared his love for her. It was no different now.

Placing a kiss on her lips, he took her hand and guided her towards the doors. Much to his relief, she had cut down on her duties at the office and was content to mostly work from home.

Maurice Daley had ceased to be a threat, and Flynn hoped that would not change. Tucking her hand through his arm, they made their way down the stairs, where his mother was waiting.

*****

She had no idea he would be present. She had caught glimpses of him when she was out with Flynn, but that had been it - just glimpses. Flynn was over the opposite end of the enormous ballroom with a group of associates, a champagne glass in his hand.

She was surrounded by some of the ‘wives' and Rosalyn when he called her name from behind. The conversation broke off immediately as she turned to face the man who had turned her life upside down.

Glen Ritchie was tall, not as tall as Flynn, and he certainly did not have her fiancé's powerful presence. Seeing him now, dressed in his dark blue tuxedo, she could look at him without feeling anything, and it felt beautiful.

His light blue eyes swept over the curious onlookers before staring at her. "Could I have a minute of your time?" His voice was cultured and slightly musical, which attracted her when she met him.

"Of course." Excusing herself, she went with him to a corner of the room that gave them a small measure of privacy. She knew all eyes were on them and did not dare look in Flynn's direction.

"You look ravishing," he said huskily, eyes wandering over her exquisite face. "I am sorry."

She shrugged slender shoulders. "You said that several times. Some of which you emphasized with lavish bouquets of silver roses."

"I know they are your favorite." His eyes clung to her face. "You are engaged to Flynn Zimmermann."

"And having his baby."

His eyes flew to her stomach, and she saw the pain flashing across his face. "You are happy."

"Ecstatically."

"I hurt you and understand the need to return the favor." He held out a well-manicured hand in appeal, which she ignored, forcing him to drop it. "I couldn't help myself, Ry; I tried to ignore the urges, telling myself they would disappear. When I was with you, it seemed possible." He threw her a whimsical smile.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I thought it would be okay. That the attraction I felt for you would make it okay."

"Attraction?" She lifted one tapered brow.

"Believe it or not, I loved you."

Before she could respond, she saw him look up and knew who was behind her. The scent of his cologne was in her nostrils.

"Everything okay here?" His arm slid around her waist as he brought her up against him. Lifting her head to stare at him, she felt a jolt in the light sizzling in his amber eyes and felt the tension in his long fingers.

"Glen was just-"

"Leaving?" The steely inflection in his deep voice was a warning that was instantly received.

"Yes." Glen nodded, tugging at the lapels of his jacket. "It was good to see you, Ry." He retreated with a hasty nod in Flynn's direction, leaving them in silence.

"We were just talking." She muttered when the charged silence stretched out even more.

"Shall we dance?" His impersonal but polite voice sent warning bells clanging inside her mind.

"What?"

Without a word, he took her hand and guided her through the throng of people already on the dance floor. It was an annual spring benefit geared toward making money for homeless veterans, and his mother and company were heavily involved.

His hands clamped around her waist as they started moving to the beat of the live band's classical music. Her hands rested on their chest, where she could feel the steady beating of his heart. He was so tall, she thought whimsically and so manly.

And he was mad. She knew him enough to realize that. He was tense, and a tautness to his jaw warned her of his displeasure.

"Please say something." She whispered.

He had been staring over her head since they started dancing; now he dropped his chin and speared her with his intense amber eyes.

"What do you want me to say?"

"It was just a conversation. He wanted to apologize."

"Do you still have feelings for this bastard?"

"What? No." She closed her eyes briefly. "I was with him-"

"You were engaged to him, and it just occurred to me that I never asked if there were any residual feelings. I spoke about my ex, but what you said about yours could fit into a small paragraph, if so much."

"This thing between us happened so quickly."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "‘This thing'? Is that what it is?"

"You are twisting my words."

"There are your words, Ryleigh. He calls you Ry," he murmured as if it had just occurred to him.

"That's what he calls me. It's a shortened version of my-" Her voice trailed off at the blazing fury on his face.

The music ended just then, and he led her off to the dance floor without saying anything. "You should stay off your feet for now. I am just going to round up a meeting I was having." He took his leave by ushering her into a comfortable-looking chair in the corner of the room.

Sighing dejectedly, she stretched her legs and turned her ankles to ease the kinks. All around her, people were eddying; conversations muted, and the clink of glasses vying with laughter and merriment. The room was tastefully decorated, and she had heard that the hotel had been designed by her fiancé when he had just started.

He had a grand taste, she thought proudly. ‘A man of acute vision' was quoted by one admiring reporter. And he was. Lifting her head, she tracked where he was and saw him surrounded by men who looked eager to hear what he had to say.

"He is quite something."

Whipping her head around, she realized that Rosalyn had joined her.

"Pardon?"

"That man of yours is impressive." The woman eyed her curiously, a smile tugging at her lips. "He makes the senator look weak and unappealing. I think he disapproved of the tete-a-tete you two had going on?"

"It was just a conversation, and there is no need to make a federal case. I am over him." She sounded petulant but felt it was justified. He had walked away and left her and had not even once glanced over to see if she was okay. Whatever.

Rosalyn gave her a shrewd look. "Are you over him?"

"Why do people keep asking me that?" She hissed impatiently. "Of course I am."

"Then honey, you had better try and convince that man of yours that you are."

*****

As soon as they entered the bedroom, he told her briefly, "I have some work to attend to."

"Fine." She was not about to justify her behavior because she did nothing wrong. If he wanted to behave like a complete jerk and freeze her out, then it's his business. She was going to change, go to bed, and ignore him. Two could play the same game.

She changed out of the dress and carelessly flung it onto the cream and gold sofa next to the large fireplace. She then slipped out of her shoes. Marching over to the oversized armoire, she yanked at the drawer and took out an old T-shirt, sliding it over her head.

By the time she turned around, he had already left the room. Feeling as deflated as a balloon that a sharp object had pricked, she went to sit on the sofa dejectedly. He had been silent all the way home, and even so, when they reached home, he had unsnapped her belt and opened her door, taking her hand to help her out of the vehicle.

Even when angry with her, he still takes care of her. It struck her then how different he was from the men she had been involved with. And she missed him. She wanted his hands around her body and to feel him against her.

She wanted to feel the incredible strength, the tenderness he always showed her. Yes, she had never discussed Glen with him and knew why. She was still cautious and afraid. She was so disappointed in her past relationships that she was still looking for the other shoe to fall.

Biting off a sigh, she surged to her feet. It was not fair to him. He had given her everything, but she was still holding back.

He looked up when he felt her presence, his hands clenching on the surface of his oak desk. A folder was lying before him, and she wondered if he was working.

"I am busy."

"I know." Moving towards the desk, she came around and sat on the edge of it, forcing him to move back to give her space. "I am over him."

She watched as his eyes flared. "I told you about my bad luck with the opposite sex. I thought it was me, that I had something within me that attracted men who were not ideal." Taking his large hand in hers, she studied the long fingers with their blunt nails.

Glen had always been meticulous and fussy about his hands, ensuring he kept his weekly appointment to get his nails buffed and treated. Flynn had a man's hand with calluses at his fingertips.

Lifting her head, she stared at his strong face, which had harsh features. He would never be called genuinely handsome, but he was a face that had character stamped all over it.

"I had a difficult time believing that you were different." She felt it when his fingers tensed. "But I know you are, and I love you Flynn. It will take me a minute to embrace how you treat me. I complain about it, but God knows, I feel special-"

Her fingers linked his. "I feel loved, something I never felt before. And I cannot bear it when you are upset with me." Her expression turned pleading, and he could not resist the look on her face.

He had seen when the bastard approached her and had stood there waiting for her to rebuff him.

He had also been aware of the avid curiosity of the men talking to him. When he couldn't bear it anymore, he marched there like a jealous fool. And he had wanted to smash his fist into the bastard's pale face. He had no idea what Ryleigh had ever seen in him.

"Flynn-"

"I wanted to deck him," he said harshly, his fingers tightening on hers. "I saw you with him; he was touching you, and I saw red. What the hell have you ever seen in him?" He had to tamp down the jealousy resurfacing even now.

"I thought I loved him. He fascinated me with his passion for wanting to make a difference." Sliding off the desk, she sat on his lap. Tugging her hand from his, she looped her arms around his neck. "I love you completely, so much so that there is no room for another man."

His hands tightened around her waist, his expression intense as he stared at her. He felt the anger dissipating as her slender curves melted against him.

"Be very sure," he whispered, his head bending towards hers. "Because I have no intention of letting you go."

"I am here," lifting a hand, she brushed her fingers across the square jaw with the rough stubble. He had to shave every morning. She loved watching him getting ready for his day. "I am positive," she whispered against his mouth.

His breath caught inside his throat, and with a groan, he crushed her against him as he seized her lips in a rapacious kiss.