His Secretive Lover (The Thorpe Brothers) (4 page)

Walking out, he crossed the courtyard slowly, wishing he could think of another way to deal with the situation.  In the end, he knew he’d just have to wait for Mark’s call. 

Ryker walked down the hallway to Mark’s office as soon as Jason Moran left.  “Do you have a moment?” Ryker asked.

Mark turned to face his boss, forcing his mind away from the six computer screens that were mounted in a row and on top of each other for easier viewing.  “Sure, boss.  What’s up?”

Ryker quickly
explained Jason’s problem, smiling as soon as Mark laughed out loud.  In the end Mark said, “I’ll give him a call as soon as I get this report down to Axel.  Maybe there’s something I can do.”

“That’s all I can ask,” he said and walked out, heading out of the building and to his lunch appointment. 

Later that evening, he left the office in a hurry to get to a business dinner that he was not looking forward to.  He’d agreed to take Xander’s place tonight because Xander got caught up in a meeting.  But all he wanted to do now was head home and relax with the football game on. 

Then he saw her.  She was leaving the office with her coat wrapped around her tightly to ward off the cold wind that had picked up earlier in the day.  The sun had already set but the lights of the courtyard as well as the
headlights of the other vehicles that were exiting the parking garage made it easy to see everything around. 

He watched for only a moment before he made a decision. 
Ryker hadn’t made it this far by letting any opportunity slip out of his grasp. 

Walking towards
her at a perfect intercept angle, he made for his target.  He also knew the exact moment when she realized he was coming towards her.  It was fairly evident that she recognized him.  It was in her eyes, in the way her body tensed and her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. 

“Goo
d evening,” he said, smoothly adjusting their positions so they were out of the line of employee traffic heading towards the parking garage, eager to get home to their families.  “I’m Ryker Thorpe,” he said, extending his hand, taking her smaller one in his.  “I’ve seen you over at the other building in the mornings.  Since we’ve seen each other so often, I thought it was past time to introduce ourselves.  Maybe you’d even let me buy you a cup of coffee?  Or dinner sometime?” he asked.

Cricket couldn’t stop the trembling.  It was one thing to see this man across the courtyard.  It
was a completely different issue to see him up close and personal like this.  He was taller than she’d anticipated.  And bigger!  The man had muscles upon muscles underneath that suit.  Her mother had been an excellent teacher at being able to spot faux anything and this man’s shoulders were not padded with fluff.  Only muscle. 

“Um…” she stammered, feeling ridiculous.  Her mother would be outraged by her lack of finesse. 
“I’m Cricket Fairchild,” she finally was able to say, looking down and wishing she could extricate her hand from his.  “I really have to go,” she said.  “I need to get home to....” she couldn’t think of a valid reason why she needed to hurry home other than to escape this man’s enigmatic and terrifying closeness that had her knees wobbling and her heart fluttering like she was experiencing her first eighth grade crush. 

Ryker smiled, tucking her arm onto his elbow.  “We’re heading in the same direction so I’ll walk you
to your car.  That will give you time to tell me how you got the name Cricket.”

Cricket couldn’t help but smile.  Most people made some irritating reference to a bug.  His comment was close, but it was much nicer.  So was his smile.  Those icy blue eyes were more than a little intimidating, but
if she just looked at his chin or his nose, she could think a bit more coherently. 

“My parents are a bit unorthodox.  Apparently, a picnic was involved.”

They were out on the street, walking down the sidewalk by this point.  She saw her friends turn the corner, all of them rushing to get home to their families.  Cricket didn’t blame them.  If she had this man to rush home to, she’d be scurrying along as well.  After such a trying day, everyone in the office felt a strong need to head home and hug their children or their husbands before settling down to a nice, relaxing glass of wine. 

“I thought ants were the main irritant at a picnic,” he commented.

Cricket laughed.  “My parents really don’t do anything in the normal manner.”

“What do they do?” he asked, instantly curious and enjoying the walk more than he thought he would.  He had
that business dinner that started in less than thirty minutes but for the first time in his life, he wanted to relax with a female instead of hurrying off to resolve some legal or business issue. 

When her hand went
up, waving about in the cool, autumn air, Ryker knew that she was going to try and either lie, or pass off the question.  “Oh, they don’t have any particular profession that they talk about,” she said.

Her comment instantly raised his curiosity.  “What kind of profession do they not talk about?” he asked.

Cricket couldn’t believe how perceptive the man was.  Normally her comment made people think that her parents were ultra-rich, or dirt poor.  Either they didn’t discuss their business interests because it was considered crass to do so, or they didn’t have any business interests to discuss. 

With this man’s comment, she couldn’t help but laugh.  “
You don’t allow any ambiguity, do you?” she asked carefully. 

He smiled
, charmed by her smile and fascinated by the glint in her clear, green eyes.  “And you are still avoiding the question.  Which means that your parents are either very naughty, or embarrassingly wealthy.  Which is it?”

Cricket didn’t know that her
green eyes were sparkling as she considered ways to answer his question without giving anything away.  “That only tells me that you are a very cynical man.  Does everyone have to have a secret?  Or hide their parents away?  Why can’t I just be one of those women who don’t have parents any longer?  Or maybe I had a tough upbringing and I just don’t talk about my parents in any way?”

They’d reached the courtyard already and Ryker was even more intrigued.  Never had any woman so effectively avoided answering his questions before.  Most of the women of his acquaintance were more than eager to brag about their familial associations, thinking he cared about that kind of thing.  He didn’t, but something about the way this lovely woman with the
honey glints of her hair sparkling in the overhead lights made him think that the woman had more secrets than the FBI.  And he intended to find out all of them. 

“Have dinner with me tonight,” he commanded, keeping her hand tucked on his elbow even while she tried to pull it away. 
He didn’t care about the business dinner he was supposed to attend.  The hell with them, he thought.  He’d never missed a business meeting before, but if this woman would agree to dinner with him, he’d blow it all off in order to unravel her mysteries. 

Cricket smiled, instantly flattered, but still not willing to agree to dinner tonight. 
“Give me your card and I’ll call you.”  It was the best way she’d learned to push men away when she didn’t want any further communication with them.  Unfortunately, she didn’t want to get to know this man.  She preferred the fantasy because the reality was terrifying! 

Ryker considered her request for all of a fraction of a second.  “No you won’t,” he said with a shake of his head.  “You’ll walk away from me and won’t call me.  Then I’ll have to stalk you out here in the courtyard
every day.  But you’ll probably shift your schedule now that we’ve met.”

Her green eyes widened at his accurate assessment of her plans. 
“If I promise to call?” she laughed, caught in her own trap.  He was right.  She wouldn’t have called him back.  The man was completely charming, amazingly sexy and totally out of her league.  She knew she would be much more comfortable feeling the zing of his gaze from afar. 

Ryker shook his head. 
He reached into his breast pocket and extracted a leather case, pulling a white business card out.  “You won’t.  But here’s my card anyway.  I dare you to call me,” he teased.  “And if you don’t, I’m not worried.  I have my ways of finding people,” he promised ominously.

Cricket’s nervousness increased tenfold with his words.  She took the card and spun around on her heel, almost running into the
parking garage in a sudden, desperate need to get away from this strange, shockingly direct and amazingly sexy man. 

She walked
to her car and slipped in behind the wheel, feeling a little like Alice in Wonderland. The world was definitely topsy-turvy when she was walked out of work with a man who dined with the President of the United States!

Goodness, her father would break down with a stroke if he ever found out about
Ryker Thorpe’s interest!

Cricket’s whole body stiffened at the sound of the doorbell ringing.  She looked up from her mystery novel, her eyes staring at the door as if she could somehow see through the wood.  She had only one deadbolt on the door, knowing that it was too easy to break through elaborate security systems so why bother? 

But now, hearing the doorbell ring and thinking of the stranger’s ice blue eyes, she wished she had something that could
more effectively lock him out of her house. 

It had taken her over an hour to calm down after their brief conversation earlier tonight.  She’d been so excited and flustered, she’d almost taken the wrong roads home! 

Maybe it wasn’t him.  Maybe she’d just been thinking about him so much lately that he was on her mind.  So when the doorbell rang, she’d just assumed it was the man.  Maybe it was one of her neighbors.  Maybe Jennie next door needed a babysitter because her husband was late coming home from work and she needed to go out for some reason.  Or perhaps it was Leandra across the street coming to return the baking dish she’d borrowed last week.

Cricket continued to
stare at the door, flinching when the doorbell rang once again because she hadn’t opened it. 

With growing trepidation,
she walked over to the doorway. She knew with absolute certainty that she wasn’t going to see her baking dish tonight, nor was she going to get to play Candyland with toddlers..  No, the person on the other side of that slab of wood was her stranger, the man with the strange, scary eyes.  The man she skipped breakfast in order to see in the morning. 

The man who terrified her as no one else ever could.

Her fingers trembled as she laid her hand down on the craftsman style door knob, taking a deep breath before she twisted the cold metal.  Every part of her mind listened to the door opening.  The slight squeak as the deadbolt was released, the scrape as the door tumblers retracted and the swish while the air shifted with the door opening. 

“I thought you’d never answer the door,”
Ryker Thorpe’s deep, hypnotic voice said.

Cricket shivered with the sound, her mind saying the words over and over again.  “
I knew it would be you,” she whispered, her breath caught in her throat and her eyes wide with fascination at the handsome, amazingly virile man standing on her doorstep. 

“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked, smiling at how cute she looked as she peered out of her doorway.  She looked warm and cozy, like she’d been under a blanket reading a book. 

Cricket didn’t want him to think that and she quickly shook her head.  “Not at all!”

“Good.  Then I’m not interrupting anything?”

She grinned despite her nervousness.  “Can I help you?” she asked. She held her breath, hoping anxiously he wasn’t here to just sell her a magazine subscription or something similarly tedious. 

“You can open the door and let me in,” the man’s voice replied.  He was leaning against the door jamb, looking smooth and
ultra-sophisticated with the expensive suit loose around his flat stomach, his five-hundred dollar tie gone and the top buttons of his Indian cotton shirt opened at the his neck. 

Good grief, she even thought his neck was sexy! 

She sighed with exasperation at herself, wondering why she was so wary of this man.  She met men all the time.  She avoided bars because men hit on her constantly.  So it was almost annoying that this man didn’t irritate her like the other men.  She had a defense set up for when the men hit on her but she knew that she was defenseless around this man.  Her face turned embarrassingly pink and her nerves did something she didn’t want to even try to describe. 

She bit her lip, wondering how she was going to get out of this mess. 
“I don’t know.”

Ryker smiled, relaxing since she hadn’t slammed the door in his face.  “Aren’t you interested to know why I’m here?” he asked.

Cricket bit her lower lip, trying to decide how much she feared this man, and how much of her fear was unrealistic. 

“I don’t think I should care why you are here,” she replied with complete honesty
and the hint of a shy smile. 

He chuckled, the deep sound making her heart flicker more quickly. 

“That’s an honest answer, at least.”  He straightened his shoulders and stood up; Cricket suddenly realized how small she really was compared to Ryker Thorpe.   “How about if I come bearing gifts?” he offered and raised the bottle of wine he’d brought from his wine cellar.  He’d called Xander and discussed the business dinner he’d agreed to go to earlier.  But when Xander told him the whole story, they both agreed that it wasn’t absolutely necessary for a representative of The Thorpe Group show up at this particular function so here he was, hoping to have a quiet evening with the lovely Cricket Fairchild. 

Cricket inhaled sharply
when she read the wine label, her eyes snapping back up into his ice blue eyes, wishing he’d brought something other than wine.  Wine was her kryptonite!  And when she dared to glance downward, she gasped audibly as she read the label.  “That’s cheating!” she said with her eyebrows low over her eyes.  Palmer 2009 Margaux was one of the great wines of that year.  And she loved wine!  She rarely drank wine because she couldn’t afford the good stuff on her salary but her mother had taught her to truly appreciate the thrilling intensity and burst of flavors in a good wine. 

Ryker put his palm to the door and gently pushed.  “I’m coming in, Cricket,” he said softly, his
ice blue eyes never leaving her worried, green ones, watching for any sign of resistance.  But she couldn’t push him out.  And it had nothing to do with the fabulous bottle of wine he held in his hand. 

It had everything to do with the magical feeling she was experiencing as the man pushed his way into her house.  She’d thought he was exceptionally handsome from across the courtyard.  And today in the
courtyard as he’d walked her to her car, he’d been shockingly forward, a character trait she generally didn’t like. But in this man, it seemed to fit.  Now, with him standing here, his height and broad shoulders making her feel small and feminine, she couldn’t deny him entry.  There was something about him that called to her like no other man ever had. 

“Wine glasses?” he prompted when she just stood t
here in her foyer.

Cricket jumped, embarrassed that she’d just been standing there staring at the man’s shoulders,
and pulled her eyes away.  “Yes!  Wine glasses!”  She spun around, surprised that she’d actually forgotten about the wine, his entire entry strategy.  She never forgot about wine! 

She moved off to the kitchen, trying to get her mind back in gear.  “How did you know where I lived?” she asked as she reached up and pulled down two wine glasses from the cabinet over her fridge.  They were dusty from lack of use so she
cleaned them both in the sink, afraid to look into the window in front of her.  It was dark outside which made the window like a mirror and she’d probably drop her wine glasses if he caught her eye in the window right at this moment. 

Ryker watched with growing interest as the woman stretched up,
her soft, pink sweater moving along with her arms to reveal pale skin on her back and allowing him an unlimited view of her adorable backside.  It was round and firm, pressing against the black slacks she’d worn to work that morning.  Her pink sweater was still on, but it wasn’t pulled over her slacks any longer.  He suspected she didn’t even realize how adorable she looked, all frazzled and rumpled.  He was used to seeing her looking perfectly coifed and walking with professional determination.  He liked this look.  She was much more appealing.  And definitely sexier. 

She spun around with the now-sparkling glasses, her eyes sliding
reluctantly up to his and he wanted to kiss her.  He wanted to see what she would feel like with those soft, full breasts pressed against his chest, her warm sighs blowing against his neck.  And his body reacted instantly to the image. 

She waited expectantly
, glancing from his eyes to the bottle.  When she realized what he was thinking, her heart sped up and she felt her cheeks heat.  “Oh,” she sighed and almost forgot about the glasses in her hand. 

Ryker knew he was making her even more nervous.  That hadn’t been his intention but the woman was incredibly sexy standing there looking confused.  He smiled and relented slightly. 
“Bottle opener?” he asked. 

Again, her whole body jerked with the question and the realization that she was still staring at his mouth, almost begging the man to kiss her. 

She shook her head and placed the glasses on the countertop behind her, almost smacking one of the stems off when she missed the counter because of her nervousness.  Her fingers were clumsy as she rummaged around in her kitchen drawers.  When she finally found her bottle opener, she swung around, holding the tool up victoriously. 

“You found it,” he said,
amusement apparent in his eyes.  “I take it you don’t drink wine very often?” he asked as he opened the bottle with expertise.

She smiled and leaned against the counter
, relieved that she finally had a break from trying to think for a few moments.  “Not often, no.”

“Are you a beer drinker?” he asked, pouring some wine into both glasses before handing her one. 

“I enjoy the occasional beer,” she said, accepting the glass with growing excitement.  “But I’ll admit, I’m a sucker for a good bottle of wine.  Hence your presence in my kitchen,” she grinned. 

“Ouch!” he laughed and clinked her glass.  “To finally meeting,” he offered as a toast.

Cricket thought about that, then smiled and brought the glass to her nose.  She took a long moment to enjoy the bouquet, letting the fruity scent fill her nostrils and enjoyment sensors.  When she took the first sip, she let the wine slip slowly into her mouth, feeling the burst of flavor on her tongue, amazed by the incredible taste.  “Oh my!” she sighed happily, her eyes still closed as she savored her first taste.  “This is truly amazing.”

Ryker watched as the woman he’d thought was the sexiest
human being alive just blew him away with the most sensual image he’d ever seen in his life.  He enjoyed wine just like the rest of the world.  But watching Cricket Fairchild take her first sip of the Palmer Margaux had him aching to possess her.  He wanted all of that passion, that erotic sensitivity, to be directed at him, or with him as he took her over the peak into sexual bliss. 

He was standing about a foot away from her in the little
periwinkle kitchen, his eyes looking at her strangely.  The wine bottle was in one hand and his glass of wine in the other, but he was just standing there staring at her.  “Aren’t you going to try it?” she asked, looking up at him curiously.

Ryker blinked and glanced down at his glass.  “I’m not sure I need to.  Your enjoyment is much more interesting than anything I’ve ever seen,” he said and watched with fascination as she blushed once again.  He wondered if she sunburned or tanned.  Probably the
former with her fair skin, he thought, noting the platinum highlights in her hair.  “So what do you do?” he asked, trying to change the subject so that she was more comfortable around him.  He instinctively knew that he’d have to get her used to him before he could make a move on her and since he was aching to take her into his arms, he had to speed the “comfort” process along more quickly or he might just go up in flames with wanting her. 

She led him out of the kitchen so they could be more comfortable in her little den.  “I’m an accountant for Jason Moran’s office.”

That surprised him, knowing how Jason treated his staff.  This woman didn’t look like someone who would take a lot of verbal abuse.  “And how do you like that work?” he asked, thinking that she didn’t strike him as an accounting type.  She looked more like a ballet dancer or a gourmet chef, someone with hidden passions and secrets that he wanted to discover. 

Cricket shrugged her shoulder.  “It pays the mortgage,” she said and looked around at her tiny house.  “It’s small, but I love this house,” she explained.  There was only a family room and kitchen with a half bath downstairs and two small bedrooms upstairs, but it was hers.  She paid the mor
tgage on it faithfully every month and kept meticulous records of her income and expenditures.  She’d been taught as a kid that thieves could never own property; they had to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.  She’d lived all over the world and could speak French, Italian and Spanish fluently, German well enough to get by, and a tad of Portuguese.  But only because her mother and father had dragged her all over the world, following their next “project”.  Cricket had learned to adapt, to blend in and understand the culture of each city quickly, including absorbing the dialect and accents so people wouldn’t think she was a stranger.  Strangers were dangerous.  Someone who “spoke the language” was a safer bet as a friend. 

Ryker looked around as well, impressed with how cozy the room looked.  It was as if there were a fire in the fireplace, but it was really just the warm hues and the soft lighting.  She’d done a great job of decorating to make the area inviting and comfortable. 
“How long have you lived here?” he asked.  And the conversation went on for hours.  She curled up in her big chair with him across from her, relaxing as the wine crept into her bloodstream, making her more talkative than she normally would have been.  He was a fascinating man, having visited almost all of the cities she’d been to and spoke several languages as well.  By the end of the evening, she felt like she knew him a bit more thoroughly, but she never accepted that she might actually know his mind.  This man was not like the one dimensional, easy going gentlemen she’d casually dated in the past. .