And she part of that deal. Anger flared at the Vattakovs for taking advantage of her country’s precarious economic condition.
“You seem to know a lot about a tiny country,” said Marisol.
“I like geography and became fascinated with the little countries in Europe,” he said. His ears were tipped red again.
“Geography,” said Marisol, not quite believing his story.
“My teenage obsession helped me understand different parts of the world,” he said. “Because of that, I’ve been able to position my company to be in the top five of the world’s producers of touchscreens.” Ryan turned his blue eyes on her. “But what about you? Did you have any teenage obsessions?”
Marisol shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t have time for any. I was busy with school and uh, the family business.”
“The family business,” he said with a smile. “And what would that be?”
She looked into Ryan’s warm eyes as he searched hers. He wanted to find out more about her, that much she was sure of. There was something there in his blue orbs that seemed like longing. Marisol licked her lips, gazing at this incredibly sexy man. Heat rushed through her as she became incredibly aware of how close he was to her. She searched his face and saw his kindness and generosity and her heart melted. Without taking time to think she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
The first contact of hers against his sent heat through her body and she moved closer pressing her body against his. The taste of him overwhelmed her and her heart thudded against her chest. Ryan responded tasting her lips with hungry nips. His tongue pressed forward and she opened her mouth needing everything her. She had never felt such delicious pleasure at kissing another and couldn’t help but feel a burning need to get even closer to him.
His tongue slid against hers claiming her mouth and her only thought was that she needed more from him.
Ryan cupped her breast in his head running his thumb over her nipple which became hard and sending waves of heat through her. She felt as lit up as Christmas tree and burning ten times as hot.
Suddenly Ryan pulled away. He was breathing hard as one hand held the back of her neck.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he said.
Marisol sat back feeling stung by his rejection. Tears gathered in her eyes but she stood up quickly.
“Of course,” she said turning her head away.
“Marisol,” said Ryan. “It’s not that you aren’t beautiful, because you are.”
“Please, Mr. Kelley,” said Marisol coldly. “Save me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. I’ll just go to my room now.”
“Marisol, please,” he said.
She stalked away angry, but not as much at Ryan as herself. What was she thinking? The last thing she needed to do was drag him into the mess of her life. He’d done enough for her already.
Marisol felt a strong hand on her arm. She stopped in her tracks, strung tighter than a violin string. Part of her wanted to shake his arm off, but another wanted to throw herself into his arms. Instead, she drew herself up straighter and looking over her shoulder, gave him the most royal look of disdain she could muster.
“Please remove your hand,” she said. Her voice was ice. Ryan’s hand slipped slowly from her arm.
“Good night, Marisol,” he said sadly.
***
Marisol tossed and turned all night. She couldn’t get their kiss out of her mind, and just the thought of it gave her shivers. She had little crushes as she grew up, but nothing compared to the longing she felt for Ryan Kelley. It was as something had awakened in her and taken root. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it played on her mind the whole night. His sexy kisses made her burn with the fires of lust. And that was wrong.
Lust was a sin. It had to be. And a further complication was that technically, Marisol was engaged. Looking at another man lustfully wasn’t forbidden just by the Church but also by her position as Princess of Dalayasia. She was supposed to be a moral example for her people.
Some example she was. But God couldn’t mean for her to marry the lustful and drunken Tristan, could he? Those two qualities alone would make Tristan ineligible for marriage within the church.
Marisol was confused.
She trembled in her bed, wanting to be close to Ryan even though she knew it was wrong, and he’d made it quite clear he didn’t want the same thing. The memory of their shared kiss inflamed a desire in Marisol that banished all rational thought. There wasn’t anything more she wanted to do than to hold, kiss, and touch his body.
Could something that felt so good be so wrong? They had been together for nothing more than a few snatches of minutes together in the past couple days. She recognized that they barely knew each other. Yet there nothing about him that she disliked, and everything she adored. He was kind and generous. Ryan cared for the people in his life, his sister, his mother, and the people at the shelter.
Ryan wasn’t just a handsome man. He was a wonderful man, the kind that women dreamed about.
And she didn’t have a single clue as to what to do about it.
Marisol finally pushed herself out of bed to face the duties of the day. Breakfast for Ryan was the first thing on the list.
But she didn’t spot him in the apartment. Marisol knocked on the door of the office and didn’t find him there. Plucking up her courage she knocked on his bedroom door, but there was still no answer. Nervously she open the door and found it empty. No sounds of running water came from the bathroom.
Ryan had left without a word to her.
Marisol huffed feeling disappointed. Then the back door buzzer rang and Marisol went to answer the door. When she opened it, she was greeted by a huge bouquet of red roses in a vase.
“Excuse me,” said Marisol. “Who are these for?”
“The card says Marisol,” said the deliveryman behind the roses. “Is she here?”
“I’ll take them.”
Marisol took the flowers into her room and opened the small card.
Marisol,
Sorry, I was so forward last night. Let me make it up to you by taking you to dinner.
R .
“Forward?” It was her that had practically attacked him. He was the one who’d pulled back. At least he didn’t think badly of her, and she was going to have dinner with him.
Her only problem now was what was she going to wear?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dinner Out
Looking over the sizes on the clothes that Mrs. Kelley bought her gave Marisol a clue as to what size to buy. The problem Marisol had was that she didn’t know how formal or casual the dinner would be.
She looked through the contact information in the computer and found Ryan’s work email. Opening the email file, she typed him a letter:
Ryan,
Thank you for the beautiful roses. I hadn’t ever rec
eived such a lovely bouquet. I would happily go out to dinner with you anyplace you wish. What are we wearing? Casual? Formal? Something in between? It doesn’t make a difference to me, because I look forward to spending time with you anywhere you request.
Sincerely,
Marisol
She studied the message and thought she’d struck the right tone. Marisol wanted Ryan to know that she wasn’t angry with him. If she thought it was proper, she would have said more, maybe add some Xs and Os, but that would be too much.
Before long a message popped up on the screen.
Dear Marisol,
I want to do this right, but don’t worry about what you’re wearing. Suitable attire is being sent over by messenger. See you at seven.
R.
At seven Marisol was ready. The beautiful a-line Kelly-green dress was obviously expensive. Lace rimmed the pleated skirt, and around the neckline and down the sides of the dress. A pair of gold sandals accompanied the gift. The combination was understated and elegant. Marisol liked the look.
When Ryan opened the front door his eyes went wide, and he seemed to like the look too. “I like when a woman is ready on time,” he said.
“I like it when a man shows up on time.”
“Then let’s go,” he said holding out his arm. “The car is downstairs.”
Marisol’s heart fluttered against her chest as Ryan sat next to her. He was especially handsome in charcoal wool suit, crisp white shirt and burgundy tie. It took all her will power not to stare at him.
“Where are we going?” Marisol could barely contain herself. Dinners out were a rarity for her as a princess. Media stalked her and her father relentlessly, and her father was a private man. Now, however, since the police didn’t even recognize her though they were searching for her, she felt comfortable going out with Ryan.
“A little place I know. I haven’t been in a while.”
The car pulled up to an Italian restaurant. When they entered a large man with dark hair and eyes raised his arms.