A Proper Wife

“Oh, Mr. Kincaid, I’m terribly sorry, sir.”

She didn’t sound sorry at all, Ryan thought grimly. She sounded like a woman who was doing what she could to keep from bursting into laughter, but then, he could hardly blame her. He hadn’t been found in such a compromising situation since he was eighteen and he and half a dozen fraternity brothers had been caught making a raid on the women’s dorm at college.

“I tried the intercom, sir, but you must have shut off the phone. And I knocked. But, uh, you must have been preoccupied with your, ah, your niece. And—”

She looked at Devon. Ryan did, too. She was staring out the window. Her face, seen in profile, was white and pinched with embarrassment.

He thought of how flushed that same face had been moments ago. She’d been so filled with passion that he’d almost taken her right here in his office. Hell, he would have taken her, if Sylvia hadn’t...

Ryan took a deep breath and thrust his hand through his hair.

“And?”

“Your grandfather is on the line. He said it was important, so—”

Ryan waved his hand in dismissal, sat down at his desk, and reached for the telephone.

“Grandfather?”

Great, Devon thought, just great. It wasn’t enough she’d had to endure the gathering of the Kincaids Friday evening; was she now expected to sit through another clan meeting?

Forget it, she thought. She walked to Ryan’s desk, reached out and slapped her palm over the telephone mouthpiece. Ryan looked up, frowning.

“Just be sure you remember to call the old boy off,” Devon snapped.

Ryan reached out a proprietary hand and wrapped it around her wrist. She glared back at him.

“If you try anything, I’ll scream so loud they’ll hear me in New Jersey.”

His eyes narrowed to green slits. “Hang on a moment, will you?” he said into the phone. Then he muffled it against his chest and glared back at her. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“Anyplace you’re not.”

“I’m talking to my grandfather.”

“How fortunate for you both. Be sure to tell him that I can’t marry you because I’m already engaged to a Martian.”

“I hope you’ll both be very happy.” His hand tightened on hers. “Just stay tuned.”

Ryan took a breath, exhaled it, then put the phone to his ear again.

“Grandfather,” he said, “I’m glad you called. Devon is here.”

“Oh. How nice.”

“Actually, she’s upset. She, ah, she just found out that—I know it’s an error, of course—”

“That’s exactly what I called to tell you, my boy. I made an error. About Devon.”

Ryan could feel the weight lifting from his shoulders. He let go of Devon, looked at her, and made an okay sign with his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m happy to hear you admit it, sir.”

“I was so concerned that Bettina would find a way to get her hands on any money I might settle on the girl that I ignored the obvious. A fund can be established so that only a specified amount per month can be withdrawn.”

Ryan smiled. “Of course.”

“It will give the girl a feeling of independence. Anyway, now that I’ve had a better look at her, I’m fairly certain she can fend for herself.”