Stare Me Down (Stare Down)

STARE ME DOWN

By

Riley Murphy

Published by Riley Murphy
Visit Riley Murphy’s official website at
www.badboyscanbefun.com
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Copyright © Riley Murphy, 2013
Cover design by Viola Estrella
Photography: istockphoto.com & Sava
eBook formatting by
Guido Henkel
Electronic book publication February 2013
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. The author does acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The author does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for third-party Web sites or their content.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from author.

Dedication

To Ruby Williams for writing, singing and composing the song titled, In This Bed, for the book video. I get chills whenever I hear it. I love, love, LOVE it! Thanks SO much!

And,

To my honey for all the “gold” you’ve given me for my stories. Believe me. I’m really hoping that one day I will be able to use those nuggets on the pages of my books. Unfortunately, right now there just doesn’t seem to be too much call for a massively disfigured, comatose, billionaire hero who gets abducted by aliens the one night his heroine isn’t by his bedside. I will concede, however, that I thought the twin idea had merit until you ruined it by suggesting it be the heroine’s sibling and not the hero’s. So for now, I shall toss all your little gems in the vault and only unearth them when I feel the need to share “the shiny” on my blog. Not quite the accolades you were hoping for, but the best I can do until you come up with something that doesn’t have me laughing so hard I cry. As, you know, it’s hard to type with a soggy keyboard. But this is what I love about you. You make me cry, but in the best possible way…

Acknowledgment

Brooke, I couldn’t have done this one without you. You are a saint and a goddess who’s been dipped in a whole pile of awesome sauce. Thanks for being you.

Kyle and Kim. What can I say? With you guys in my corner I feel as if I can do anything. I cherish that.

Big hugs to my mom who’s one of my biggest fans. I love you, but I think it’s time you get your own kindle. Just saying…

A special and big shout out to the real Shawn Alff! He’s a very talented writer with Creative Loafing in Tampa Bay. Why, after doing his in-depth interview, where he brought up the “magical vagina” theory in romance, I was inspired to write about the “magical balls” in this story. Thanks for being the smarty you are!

And as always, to my dad…‌I miss you, but I’ll see you after.

Chapter One

“I’m not the enemy, you know.”

Ramsey Taylor didn’t turn around, nor did he answer, because that statement was debatable. Instead, he continued to watch the angel fish, who was seemingly oblivious to the two oscars fighting beneath her in the tank.

“Please stop tapping on the glass.”

Predictably the phone buzzed and he cocked his head to watch his adorable young doctor swivel in her chair to answer as she always did when her nosey colleague rang. This time however, she held her palm over the receiver and said, “The fish don’t like it when you do that.”

He straightened and turned around, frowning when he spied her shoulders slump and the steam go out of her as she listened to her latest instructions from on high. Two seconds later she whispered, “I know. Yes. Okay. I will.” She closed her eyes as if she were doing a mental three count and he held his breath. Would she finally snap? God knew he’d been waiting for the moment. Praying for it even.

So when she quietly hung up he swallowed his disappointment.

“Sorry about that.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Unfortunately these kinds of interruptions are to be expected when you agreed to join the intern’s group. Maybe you should have signed on with my boss.”

He ignored that reminder and focused in on distracting her again. “The oscars pick at each other all the time, don’t they?”

She looked up from her clipboard and pushed her heavy, black-rimmed glasses against the bridge of her nose. “Yes, they do. I think they’re both males fighting for the dominant role.”

“Is that your professional opinion?”

She stared but didn’t answer. That made him grin.

“I bet you analyze a lot of fish—” he surveyed the room, adding, “—in this studious-looking think tank.”

Bingo. Her eyes narrowed as she beat her pen against the metal part of her clipboard. “All right. Go ahead. We may as well get this over with. Ask me.”

“What?”

“Why I didn’t sign off on your anger management course and why I recommended these extra sessions?”

“I’m guessing you’re making things personal.”

“No.” She looked like she was getting riled. “This is standard professional practice, believe me. What kind of a therapist would I be if I didn’t follow my instincts and do my job?”

“Do you want me to answer that? You may not like it.”

“It’s okay to get mad, you know. It’s healthy, even.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “Really? The last time I supposedly did that it landed me in this current situation.”

“Doesn’t the fact that I’m making you come to my office for some extra sessions tell you that your constant deflection isn’t going to cut it? If you don’t get serious, I’m not signing off on this paperwork.”

His arms fell out of their cross and he let her see how ludicrous he thought that was. “Is this why I’m here? I wouldn’t express myself in front of your band of neurotic misfits, so in privacy I might?”

She took a deep breath. “They are not misfits. They are people in need, nothing more.”

At least she had the decency to turn away when she lied. “I beg to differ. One of your people in need set his car on fire when the drive-thru screwed up his taco order.”

“I know.” She straightened when she looked at him. “Jerry’s working on his pyromaniac tendencies in another group of mine.”

He shook his head. She was very blasé about the guy he’d labeled The Torch. “And I’m not one to cast stones, but compared to Harriet, who purposely locked her branch manager in the vault over a long weekend and didn’t tell anyone all because he gave her a bad monthly review? I decided anything I had to tell them about my purported blowup would pale in comparison which would explain my deflecting.”

“Yes, well Harriet is a different matter. She’s going through a very emotional time right now and the vault incident? I’m convinced it’s isolated within that perimeter.”

Perfect. He had a fucking bleeding heart on his hands. “Really? The woman eats the Boston fern in the corner when she thinks you’re not looking.”

She seemed to be at a loss for words and it occurred to him. “Oh, not to worry though, I checked and the plant isn’t poisonous. But her behavior? Passive aggressive if you ask me.”

“She’s eating it? Son of a…‌I just paid the pest guy a small fortune to spray the whole building.”

He did a double take. “Between your fire-bug and the herbivore bank teller you can see why I was a little taken aback finding myself here.”

“I thought it was for the best.”

“You thought? I’m thinking it was your boss who insisted.”

“You’d be wrong about that. In fact it was just the opposite.” She shook her head and frowned. “Are you ever going to have a seat? It’s been nearly half an hour and either you’re prowling around my office poking at things or sitting on the arm of the sofa as if you’re ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. I haven’t brought it up before as I figured you’d eventually settle in. Can you?”

“What? Settle in? Sure.” He ignored her pen pointing, directing him to the couch, and walked right past her, intent upon the leather chair in front of her desk. It was the only masculine piece of furniture in a room packed full of frou-frou shit. Once he was seated, he waited for her to swivel around in the rocker then he held up a hand, adding a wave just to annoy her, “Carry on.”

“Wouldn’t the sofa be more comfortable?”

“You can call it a couch. As to being comfortable? For you, maybe, but not for me.”

“So, what? Is this your way of trying to make me as uncomfortable as you are at the moment?”

Well, I’ll be damned. The reserved little doctor was finally showing him some of the backbone he suspected she had hidden beneath her hard-to-crack veneer. “Maybe.”

“Why punish—” She caught herself and blushed. “I mean, um, why take it out on me?” Carefully she took off her glasses and folded them prior to dropping them on her lap. “I’m not the reason you’re here. I didn’t assault anyone.”

He leaned forward with elbows on the desk and looked her right in the eyes, briefly noting their unusual color. A light purple-blue. Cornflower came to mind. “Neither did I. I’m here for the court-ordered minimum on principle. You hold the key to my freedom at the moment, so I’ll listen to your psychobabble—”

“Psychobabble?” The way her left eyebrow arched up intrigued him. It also inspired him to bait her some more.

“Yeah, you didn’t even get the fish diagnosis right. The oscars aren’t fighting over who’s more dominant. They’re pack fish. You either have one or six. Two doesn’t cut it, because they’ll constantly fight.”

She held his gaze. Fascinating.

“I didn’t have you come here today to talk about my fish.”

“True, I’m here because I have to be here. I need to get my stay out of jail papers signed by you and handed into to my attorney so he can file them with the court.”

She examined her clipboard and asked without looking up, “Then I think it’s about time we discuss the basics. It says you assaulted a man in a parking lot.”

So much for holding her off the topic that had brought him here with deflecting and his pressing-her-buttons antics. With no other patients to act as buffer he was screwed. He’d been trying to keep his distance since the moment he’d walked into that classroom six weeks ago. He’d almost made it, but he should have known his run of good luck was bound to exhaust itself.

Giving her a stealthy once-over, he decided to stick with the truth. Granted he’d still be annoying as that was the only thing standing between her and him carrying out one of his most recent fantasies he’d had of her. The one where he made her stretch out naked over the desk was looking pretty doable at the moment, too doable. “Yeah, I broke up a fight, and when the guy who started it fell he accused me of assault and had his lawyer on my ass for monetary compensation. I was given a choice. I could pay him twenty grand and he wouldn’t press charges, or I could stand on principle and let our wonderful justice system protect me. I chose the latter, which obviously didn’t pan out so well for either of us. He’s still broke, and I’m stuck doing these court-ordered shrink sessions with a woman who can’t even analyze her own pets.”

She gasped.

Ignoring her, he sat back in the chair. “I should’ve paid him the twenty grand.”

“I don’t need to analyze my pets.”

“Yes, you do. Because if you had, you’d have known about the oscars. I’m guessing you have a service that sees to the fish?” She nodded. “Fire them.”

He checked his watch. It was as if time stood still. Couldn’t he catch a break? What the hell were they going to talk about now? The fucking fish were the most interesting things in the room. Besides her, and she was off limits. Way off limits.

“Mr. Taylor—”

“It’s Ramsey.”

“Mr. Taylor,” she began again, “I’ve been appointed by the court to make sure you get the counseling you need.”

Now she went all snippy as she slammed her glasses back on and banged the clipboard. Damn, the urge to drag her over the desk and quiet her some by stealing a taste of those lips was nearly overwhelming.

“I’m very concerned with how you got here and it’s time to get down to business and focus on your problem.”

Oh, he had a problem all right. Best she knew it. Tilting his head, he bit back a grin. “Great, do you have a way to get me out of these one-on-one sessions? Because right now that’s the only problem I have.”

“Really?”

He nodded and let the grin rip.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She adjusted herself in her chair. “Everyone has problems, Mr. Taylor. After all, we’re human, aren’t we?”

“And what are your problems, Doctor Gavin? Besides your insecurity, I mean.”

She hugged the clipboard to her chest and sputtered. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. You know nothing about me. Besides—”

“I know you prefer tea over coffee. You wear sensible shoes as a rule, but even they bother you and you wind up in slippers when you can get away with it. You use the glasses as cover, the clipboard as a shield and you sleep on the left side of your bed at night.”