Page 8 of The Charmer's Gambit
Until Will.
The thought of him sent a chill down my spine.
Did Ryan see us together?Is that why he’s here now?
He always found out about my dates in the past, which was one of the reasons I stopped going out with men. The one time I tried a one-night stand, it also ended badly, hence my vow of celibacy.
I wasn’t entirely sure how Ryan knew so much, but I suspected he had someone following me. Or maybe he used electronic means to monitor my movements. Both alternatives unnerved me and left me in a constant state of caution. I thought twice about every email I sent, and I refused every come-on regardless of whether I wanted the man or not. Sarah understood more than most, but I never told her everything. Not even close.
His hand slipped to the back of my neck as he tried to pull me in for a kiss. My palms went to his chest, holding him back. The fact that he let me was an indicator of his mood.
“Ryan,” I managed, throat dry. “Sarah will be back any minute.” A complete lie, one that would surely cost me later if he ever found out. “It’s her last night in the city.”
“Ah, girls’ night in, then?”
“Yes.”
That seemed to appease him, which indicated he didn’t know about dinner at La Rosas. Not yet, anyway.
“Well, I suppose I can allow that. But I want to see you later this week. There’s a fundraiser on Friday night, and I need a date.”
I barely suppressed my snort. “We’re not dating, Ryan.”
“So come with me as a friend.” His reasonable tone was one he used often with his colleagues. Not me. Which was why I hesitated before replying.What are you up to?
“I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” I said slowly.
His brow furrowed. “Why?”
Because I hate you.
Because you ruined my life.
Because you scare the shit out of me.
If there was a door separating us, I would say any number of those things. But we were both standing in my apartment, alone. And face-to-face. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me, and callingthe police wasn’t an option. Ryan had too many friends in high places.
“Because I’m not ready,” was my lame excuse.
He sighed and dropped his hand into a fist at his side. “Not this again. You’re not getting any younger, Rachel. When are we going to move past this?”
I bristled a little at that but managed to bite my tongue. Years of experience dealing with him kept me in line. “I’m only thirty, Ryan.”If anyone is getting older, it’s you.Though, he still looked the same as he did twelve years ago when we met during my freshman year at Northwestern. He was a senior at the time.
“And,” I continued, “I don’t know if I’m ready to start things up with you again. You’re busy with work, right? It’s been a few months since I last saw you.”
I kept a hopeful note in my voice, encouraging him to talk about his political aspirations instead of us. It worked, as he dove into a fifteen-minute diatribe about his campaign schedule for the US Senate. The current republican in office was stepping down in two years, and Ryan seemed the obvious choice. It chilled me how many people couldn’t see through his pretentious facade, but then I remembered I used to be one of them.
“Okay, baby girl. If you’re not ready for this Friday, then fine. I understand that it’s short notice. But I need you to start attending functions with me.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You understand, right?”
I hated those three words. Especially from him.
I didn’t understand why he seemed hell-bent on destroying my life. What did I do to deserve it? But I nodded anyway and bit my lip to keep it from trembling.
It was amazing how I could go from having a mostly fun evening, to torment, in the span of seconds. What would have happened if I let Will in before Ryan arrived?
Nothing good.
“That’s my girl,” Ryan murmured, kissing me on the forehead like I was five. “I’ll call you later this week or have my secretary send you an agenda, okay?”
