Driven by Fire (Fire 2) - Page 4

“Then you’ll stay here, and Ryder will see to it.” Jenny straightened her shoulders as she heard the footsteps beyond the closed door. If she’d had any choice she would have gone to someone else, but the various agencies had run through their allotment for illegal immigrants, and she

had no choice but to see if the secretive Committee could do better. She braced herself for another confrontation, and the last thing she was about to do was show weakness in front of someone so desperately in need of a champion, even if her stomach knotted and her fisted hand trembled slightly as she raised it to pound on the door once more. Because like it or not, Matthew Ryder had a very powerful, very unwelcome effect on her and her previously dormant libido.

It was a good thing she had excellent reflexes or she would have ended up pounding on Matthew Ryder’s face, and he wouldn’t have liked that one bit. She’d been around dangerous men all her life, her father, her uncles, her brothers, and she knew a wolf when she saw one. It was a wolf who opened the door and stood staring at her, an unpromising expression on his face.

“Well, look who’s here,” he said, though she suspected he had known perfectly well what awaited him on the other side of the door. “What brings you out on such a bright Sunday afternoon, Ms. Parker?”

She straightened her already-stiff spine and gave him an equally stiff smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Ryder. I see you’ve been enjoying your weekend.”

If she’d managed to annoy him, and she’d been trying to, he didn’t show it. He was clearly hungover—she knew that much about men as well. He was scruffier than usual—he was one of those men who had to know he looked sexier when he didn’t shave, and he was wearing faded jeans and a wrinkled linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His feet were bare, and he had a glass of whiskey in his hand. She looked at it disapprovingly.

He saw where her eyes went. “You have a problem with my drinking, Ms. Parker?”

“Not if you don’t,” she replied in a determinedly pleasant tone of voice.

“None at all, as long as no one interrupts me. So what do you expect me to do for this girl that your own damned family can’t accomplish?”

Bastard, Jenny thought, ignoring the frisson of nerves that attacked her stomach. She’d only seen him once since their first encounter on the container ship, and by that time he seemed to know everything there was to know about her, including her background, her family, and probably the profit and loss statements, mainly loss, for her small law office. He’d been about as unhelpful as he could be, but she was getting used to this man and his suspicions, though she had no idea exactly what he suspected. Since then she’d done her best to avoid any other chance encounters as they both dealt with the refugees.

“I haven’t had anything to with any member of my family in years,” she lied easily enough. “I don’t involve my family in my business. I prefer to keep them as separate as possible, given their quasi-legal proclivities.”

His cynical laugh didn’t improve her mood. “Their quasi-legal proclivities have them working with the wealthiest law partnership in the city, while it does appear that your career path hasn’t been quite as successful.”

She swallowed her instinctive retort. She needed a favor from him, and it wouldn’t help matters if she went out of her way to annoy him. She already seemed to have irritated him enough, and she didn’t want him looking at her too closely.

“So what is it you want me to do with your current waif?” he said, when she didn’t come up with a response.

At that Soledad lifted her head slightly to give him the full benefit of her huge brown eyes, and Jenny waited for him to melt just as every other male had. He barely blinked, turning his attention back to Jenny without the slightest show of interest.

She tried not to show her surprise. “Papers,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “A job, and a place to stay. And counseling,” she added as an afterthought. “She’s been through a lot.”

Ryder’s cynical smile wasn’t meant to put her at ease, and she could feel her palms begin to sweat. Nerves, she reminded herself. What was it about this man who sparked such odd reactions from her?

“What about a rich husband as well?” he drawled, taking another sip of his whiskey.

“If you can dig one up that would be a nice bonus,” she said in a smooth voice. “Now why don’t you invite us in out of the midday sun instead of letting all that lovely air-conditioning out? Because I’m not going away and I expect you know it.”

He muttered something beneath his breath so shocking she would have slapped him if she’d been absolutely certain what he’d said. She couldn’t be, and she wasn’t about to wait. She took the slender hand of the young woman beside her. “Come with me, Soledad,” she said. “I think Mr. Ryder’s bark is worse than his bite.”

“Don’t count on it,” he said softly as she took a deep breath and started forward. For a moment she was afraid he wasn’t going to move out of the way. She really, really didn’t want to touch him, not when she had this inexplicable reaction to him. He stood in the doorway watching her, and at the last minute stepped back just enough so that she nearly brushed against him when she thought she’d been clear. It was only the lightest of touches, barely more than the sleeve of her silk suit brushing against his rumpled linen shirt, but heat shot through her body. Damn the man.

As she and Soledad entered the darkened hallway, she thought she could hear his soft laugh and her irritation rose even higher. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to drive away the feelings that filled her when she saw him, and nothing—not common sense, not experience, not Matthew Ryder’s own annoying behavior—could obliterate this strange thread of attraction. At least, thank God, he had no idea that she seemed to have developed a crush the size of Texas on him. He closed the door behind them, plunging the already-shadowy area into darkness, and Jenny blinked, trying to get accustomed to the gloom. She turned back to him, a bland smile on her face to meet his equally bland expression.

His mouth was pure sex. It was that mouth, she decided. If she could just avoid looking at it maybe she could avoid the sexual upheaval she was going through. Her brothers would tell her she needed to get laid. That was probably true, but Matthew Ryder was the last man she was going anywhere near.

“On the left,” he said, and Jenny turned into the large room, half dragging Soledad with her.

Whoever had been in charge of the restoration of the house on Magazine Street had done an amazing job. The room, with its floor-to-ceiling windows, was the right blend of business and social, and the comfortable furniture still felt in keeping with the original style of the place. Pulling her reluctant client along with her, Jenny sank down on one of the plush sofas, leaned back, and crossed her legs.

Which was in fact a major mistake. Ryder sat down opposite her and her movement immediately brought his gaze to those legs, and she felt oddly exposed. She was depressingly average and she figured she was probably ten pounds past her goal weight, but her legs were definitely her best feature, long and shapely, and for some reason she didn’t want him looking at them. Not that he seemed the slightest bit interested—he was simply, dispassionately taking her inventory. She sat forward and needlessly tugged her skirt down to cover more, which caught his attention, and a faint smile appeared on his usually expressionless face.

“So exactly what is it you want from me?” he said. “I can write you a check . . .”

“Money doesn’t solve everything, Mr. Ryder,” Jenny said, and then could have kicked herself—she sounded like a prim old lady. He was giving her an easy out—she ought to take it. “For now Soledad can stay with me, though my house is a little small and I’m in the midst of renovating it. I need a green card for her, I need a job for her, and in fact, I need someone to oversee her well-being.”

“That’s all well and good, Ms. Parker, but what does she want?”

Jenny could feel herself flush again, and she glanced at Soledad. “It’s what she wants too.”

Tags: Anne Stuart Fire Romance
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