Ryan's Rules

‘Look, when you feel like you’re getting snowed under just let me know, OK?’

Ryan’s words jerked her head back up. He must have picked up on the hint of apprehension she was feeling, but he hadn’t said, if you feel you’re getting snowed under…Oh, no! He’d said when because, as usual, Ryan thought she didn’t know what she was doing! And he-big, kind-hearted white knight—was rushing to rescue her without even waiting to see if she needed, much less wanted rescuing!

‘Listen, Ryan!’ she said hotly. ‘I can handle things!’

‘I know but—’

‘Jayne spent all Saturday explaining things to me and, contrary to what you expect, she was convinced I could cover this job without getting “snowed under”.’

For a moment she thought he was going to argue the point; instead he shook his head as if he were taking the biggest risk of his business life by just letting her into the building. Reaching for the typed list of duties that Jayne had left for reference, she studied it as if he wasn’t there.

‘I take it, then, you don’t have any questions you want me to answer?’

She racked her brain for one he wouldn’t be able to answer.

‘Well, then, K.C.,’ he said, and started from the room, ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Wait! I do have one question.’ She produced an innocent smile.

‘Yes?’ he prompted, glancing at his watch as if calculating whether there was time to give her an answer in three one-syllable words or less. He frowned at her continued silence. ‘Well, what is it you want to know?’

‘How are you off for condoms, Ryan?’ Fighting to keep her face bland, she looked him right in the eye. ‘Be sure and let me know if you need any more.’

Apart from a minuscule tightening of his mouth, there was nothing to suggest she’d fazed him. His silky smile revealed even white teeth and superiority. ‘Thank you, K.C., but I’m well covered in that area—pardon the pun. I bought a new box last week.’

‘A new box!’ Kirrily felt her jaw practically hit the floor! ‘You’ve used fifty in two months?’

His ocean-blue eyes widened a fraction as if he himself was surprised by the fact, then he shrugged. ‘Who counts?’

Obviously she’d been under a misconception—she flinched at her own pun; she’d assumed that since busting up with the gold-digging peroxide blonde who’d adorned his arm last Christmas Ryan had been burying himself in his work. Apparently that wasn’t all he was burying himself in! Fifty in less than two months—what did that average out at? Mentally she couldn’t begin to work it out, but surely most people would be bedridden with RSI doing it that often? And she’d called him Mr Morality! Ha! More like Mr Amorality.

‘Now, K.C., if there’s nothing else…’

Mutely she shook her head.

‘In that case we can both get on with our work, then.’

The minute he was out of the door, Kirrily reached for both calculator and desk calendar. Fifty in two months?

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_ef43cdbc-8ba2-5814-b9f8-392c01689613)

FOR Kirrily the first few days on a new project always passed quickly. She found the excitement of working with new people and the challenge of a new task pleasantly invigorating on a mental level. However, the first few days of working for Ryan passed too quickly! It seemed as if the eight hours a day she should have had to perform her duties had somehow shrunk, and by five o’clock on Thursday she was forced to concede that she was further behind with the accounts than she wanted to be and light years behind where she should be. Though she’d been as busy as a workaholic bee all week, there was no evidence of it, and when Ryan found out it wouldn’t be honey-sweet praise he’d heap on her!

Rats! Where had she gone wrong? She’d followed the instructions that Jayne had left to the letter, being careful to maintain the other woman’s rigid routine. Careful? She’d been downright pedantic!

The daily duties were simple enough: attach any incoming account statements to the appropriate invoices from the previous month, check the pricing of incoming invoices against the original quotes then input them into the appropriate creditors’ records on the computer. Jayne had said that the task could take anything from a few minutes in the middle of the month to three or four hours at the start or end of a month. With a glance at the mountain of paperwork sitting on her desk, Kirrily dropped her head into her hands.

‘Oh, no,’ she groaned, not even wanting to think about how far behind she might be by the end of the month. Already she could practically hear Ryan verbally tearing strips off her for her ineptitude. Unfortunately she could also hear the sound of the locks on the front entrance being thrown, which meant that any minute now hewho-was-her-boss would saunter into her office and tell her it was time to call it a day. Not that he practised what he preached.

Considering the hours Ryan put in, he must have set himself the goal of becoming a millionaire before the year was out. Who was she kidding? If he’d worked like this for the last five years he already had to be a billionaire. No wonder her parents marvelled at the dividends they received! He was gone from the house each morning when Kirrily got up and, so far, every night this week he’d not come back until after eleven.

After his remarks about the condoms, she’d thought that perhaps he was spending his time with a woman, until her cat-killing curiosity had led her to find the condoms she’d sent him, still in sealed boxes, in the upstairs bathroom cabinet. That she’d been flooded with relief at the discovery bothered her as much as his absence all week! Either he was a workaholic or he was avoiding her. Call me paranoid, she thought sourly, but I’d lay bets it’s the latter.

It wasn’t that she expected him to entertain her, but, after sharing her house in Melbourne with two friends, she was used to having someone with whom to exchange news of the events of the day. Spending the last four nights alone with only Jayne’s overfed, over-pampered Persian for company hadn’t been her idea of a good time; Major might be a willing listener, but his conversation left a lot to be desired.

‘K.C.!’

At the sound of Ryan’s voice, she grabbed ninety per cent of the unprocessed invoices and shoved them into a drawer, barely managing to shut it before his shadow fell across her desk.

‘Time to pack it in, K.C.. It’s gone five.’

She looked up, hoping her guilt wasn’t showing, and feigned a grimace. ‘Has it? Darn! I’ve still got a few invoices to get through,’ she said, motioning towards the half-dozen accounts still lying on her desk. ‘Sorry. I guess the day got away from me.’

‘No doubt while you were catching up on old times with Trevor Nichols,’ he said, his disapproval evident.

‘Look, they shouldn’t take me too long to get through,’ she said. ‘I’m sure I can have them done in no time.’

‘Really?’ Ocean-blue eyes regarded her with scepticism. ‘What did he come in for?’

She blinked. ‘Who?’

‘Nichols.’

‘Oh. He wanted to know what he owed on his account’

‘And how much was that?’

She scrambled to think. ‘Uh, less than two hundred dollars, I think.’ She pulled the computer keyboard closer. ‘I can call up the details for you—’

‘No need. Did he pay it?’

‘Well, no, but he’s coming in tomorrow.’ Ryan looked far from pleased. Obviously the Nichols account was a dodgy one. ‘If you’re worried I could put a “stopped credit” notation on his file—’

‘Don’t bother. I don’t have the slightest doubt he’s good for the money or that he’ll be back in tomorrow.’ His intent gaze, which moved from her by now less than neat French braid all the way to her skirt, which had ridden up way past what was businesslike, caused Kirrily’s stomach to flip-flop. Quickly she swivelled her chair around so that the desk could shield her legs and averted her eyes.

‘Um…well, I might as well get on with finishing these invoices,’ she said, wishing that her voice didn’t sound as if she was suffering the early stages of laryngitis. Swallowing hard, she reached for the offending papers. ‘Like I said, they won’t take me long.’

The intercepting touch of his hand on hers was so unexpected that for an instant she thought she’d been electrocuted; given the way her heart and lungs momentarily ceased functioning, it wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion. Looking up, she encountered incredible blue eyes; her heart went from still to turbocharged in nothing flat.

The heat rising through her body had nothing to do with guilt or embarrassment and everything to do with the fact that she was a normal, healthy woman and Ryan Talbot was sexy enough to reactivate the pulse in a dead one. She’d have liked to think that she didn’t appear half as rattled as she was, but common sense voted it a faint hope.

Then in a blink he was leaning nonchalantly against the filing cabinet, causing her to think that she’d only imagined his thumb caressing her wrist.

‘Leave them,’ he said, his voice gravelly. ‘A few invoices are hardly worth the bother of you staying late.’

Knowing there were about fifty more than a few, Kirrily cursed his generosity. Staying late was her only hope of catching up. ‘It’s no bother; I’ve got nothing planned tonight.’

‘Forget it!’ He straightened with the same abruptness as he’d spoken, then grimaced and massaged his neck. ‘I’m not leaving you here alone.’