Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Deafening silence greeted his question, but Ryan refused to turn around and look at Sam. His heart slammed against his ribs, blood pounding from the force of his arousal and the need to turn, walk back to that couch and continue what he'd walked away from.

God! He had come within inches of breaking every rule and limits he had set for himself all for a taste of those lips that had been offered to him, the sensual fire that burned in her gaze when she looked at him, and his brain had stopped thinking logically.

Only the memory of Nicky's betrayal and the mess it had turned him into, had made him pull away. He couldn't do that to another man, regardless if his fiancee had no qualms about kissing another man.

He needed to put as much distance between them as possible, hence why he was cowering by his desk while a short distance away, temptation beckoned.

Hell, he needed more than that. The near mistake had just proved to Ryan he couldn't handle being alone with Sam in this office or anywhere else. He was too aware of her, his libido taking over when she was in close proximity.

He had the perfect solution for that.

“I'm starving and if it's okay with you, I thought we could go out and grab a bite to eat while discussing the appraisals.” He kept his tone light, easy, as though he hadn't just been moments from kissing her senseless.

When she still stayed silent, he raked his fingers through his hair, uncaring that the action mussed the strands, steeled himself and turned to find her staring at him, her face a closed off mask. For the life of him, Ryan couldn't tell what she was thinking.

He'd give anything to know her feelings right now, because he sure as hell was confused about his.

On second thoughts, maybe it was better not to know.

“I could eat.” Sam finally replied, lowering her gaze and picking up her discarded shoe. Her voice was steady, not a hint of the passion that had enveloped them both just a few seconds earlier.

“Where did you have in mind?” She leaned down to slip on the shoe and rose, wincing as she put weight on the injured foot.

Ah hell, he'd forgotten about that.

“On second thoughts, I could order takeout for us instead,” he gestured at her foot. “Your foot -”

“Is fine.” Sam cut in, and to prove it, she walked towards his door, not sparing him another look. “Give me two minutes to grab my purse and freshen up, I'll meet you outside.”

She slipped out the door before Ryan could get in a word, shutting it behind her with a decidedly firm click.

Well blow me six ways to Sunday!

Ryan blew out a breath and raked his hair again before picking up his car keys and wallet from a compartment on his desk. Shrugging into his jacket, he headed for the elevators that would take him to Parking.

He'd done the right thing by not taking Sam up on her invitation to kiss her, knowing it would only serve to complicate relations between them, plus there was the matter of her fiance.

So why the niggling feeling in his gut that not kissing Sam was the mistake?

By the time he pulled up in front of the high rise that housed the Silverton offices, Sam was already waiting by the curb, purse in hand. Ryan pulled up and made to get out to open the passenger door for her, but she beat him to it, sliding into the cool interior of the Jaguar, bringing with her the intoxicating scent of jasmine and lilies.

She settled against the black leather seat, the fabric of her shirt stretching across an impressive bosom, making it even more tantalizing.

Ryan gripped the wheel, resisting the urge to lean over and finish what he'd started back in his office. Instead, he waited until she'd secured her seatbelt and stared ahead, her body held tense, wrapped in a cocoon of her own making, before pulling into mercifully light traffic.

The trip to The Gage was done in silence, with Sam ignoring him in favor of staring out her window at the passing sights, and Ryan choosing to respect her silence. He had a feeling she didn't want to talk to him yet, whether out of anger that he'd acted inappropriately or annoyance that he hadn't.

This time he didn't bother trying to open the door for her. A valet leaped smartly to do so the minute he rolled to a stop. With a sigh, he slid out, tossing the keys to the valet and followed Sam into the restaurant.

A popular watering hole for business types, Ryan was not surprised to find the place filled with men and women in smart business suits, having power lunches while deals were being made to the accompaniment of soft, ambient music.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Silverton, Ma’am,” the maître d gave him a cool smile, gaze flickering to Sam and back. “Table for two, or are you expecting guests?”

“Just us, George,” Ryan nodded at the busy room behind him. “Busy afternoon?”

“No more than usual. Come with me please.”

They weaved past patrons in various stages of their meal, most of whom paused to glance his way, and it hit Ryan that the news of his demotion must have circulated the corporate grapevine given the raised eyebrows and curious looks at his choice of dining companion.

He was willing to bet a month's pay most of the whispers that followed in their wake were speculation about the two of them.

Maybe coming here was a bad idea. He should have chosen somewhere more out of the way, and not right at the hubbub of the business district.

It was enough to put him in a black mood. He scowled, resisting the urge to grab Sam by the elbow and hustle her out of there.

Fortunately, the table George led them to offered privacy in the form of art deco screens that tastefully shielded them from prying eyes. Ryan felt some of the tension ease from him as he held out a chair and waited as Sam slid into it.

“Thank you,” her tone had thawed a few degrees, which relaxed Ryan a little more and he took the chair opposite, nodding acknowledgement.

“A waiter will be by to take your orders shortly,” George informed them, handing over two black hardcover menus engraved with the restaurant's name. “Would you like some water in the meanwhile?”

Sam smiled at George, “Yes please.”

The stunning effect of her smile was not lost on George. The poor man looked flustered for a second, and shot her a smile that was definitely warmer than the one he'd bestowed on Ryan.

“I shall get it right away. Mineral or sparkling?”

“Just get us some damn bottled water, George,” Ryan cut in testily, earning himself glares from both of them for his troubles. He gave them an exasperated look. “What? Water is water, tastes the same every damned time.”

He had never understood this trend of classifying water despite Halles’ effort to point out the differences. Far as he was concerned, as long as the thing was tasteless and didn't threaten to turn his insides into a wasteland, he was fine drinking it.

After giving him another baleful look, George retreated to get the water. He picked up the menu and busied himself with making a choice.

“Actually, you're right,” Sam's words had him lowering the menu. She was also engrossed in reading, but looked up when she felt his gaze, a twinkle in her eyes, lips parted in a grin.

“Not a hundred percent, of course,” she continued in a teasing tone. “But mineral water can also be termed sparkling water as long as there's carbon dioxide in it. However, mineral water does taste different from spring water due to all the natural occurring chemicals it contains.”

“Did you also minor in Chemistry or something?” Ryan raised an eyebrow in pleasant surprise, pleased to see her back in good humor.

She laughed, and the sound pulsed through his system. “No, sorry to disappoint. I just happen to be the kind of person who reads anything and everything in sight. Always end up picking up little tidbits of trivia from time to time.”

This little insight into her life made Ryan curious to know more. However, the waiter chose that moment to show up, bearing two glasses of chilled water and the next few minutes passed in selecting a choice of meal.

When he finally moved off with their order, Ryan settled back against the comfortable leather seat, his gaze fixed on Sam.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said, reaching for his glass. “What makes you, you?”

She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ears and smiled.

“I'd have thought you would know enough about me by now,” she replied, giving him a knowing look. “Haven't you scored the internet for info about the woman your father hired?”

“Oh, I did,” he chuckled. “Or rather, Lola did and gave me the details.”

“And what did she find?”

He knew she was avoiding his original question, but he was willing to humor her for now.

“Sameera Divya Bhatt, born March 15, 1991 in Gujarat, India. Attended an all girls secondary school. First degree in Business Administration from the University of Mumbai and a masters from same. I could go on with an impressive list of your previous work experience, but that's not really what I want to know, Sam.”

“Impressive. Give my compliment to Lola for a good research.” She lifted the glass to her lips and peered at him over the rim. “So what do you want to know?”

“What makes you tick, things you enjoy doing.”

“Hmm, you mean like my hobbies?”

“Sure, let's start from there.”

She took her time drinking, presumably to gather her thoughts before replying.

“Like I mentioned earlier, I love to read. All kinds of books, but mostly fiction.”

“Romance novels?” Ryan chuckled, which earned him a frown.

“Are you one of those men who thumb their noses at women who read romance?” She asked, her tone lightly teasing, but something in the way she waited for his answer warned Ryan that his answer mattered.

“No,” he replied and meant it. “My sister grew up infatuated with Harlequin books and believe it or not, I snuck a few away to read when she wasn't looking.”

Her laughter turned a few heads, not that she paid anyone attention. “Really?”

“Yes. I was fifteen at the time and just discovered girls for the first time. Naturally, I thought reading about men who were successful at getting the girl would give me a few pointers on how to go about the whole business. Afterall, I had what most of them did.”

He ticked off the points on the tips of his fingers. “Money, looks and brains.”

“And did it?” She leaned forward, eyes alight with interest.

“Hell no. I may have been a teenager, but even I knew kissing a girl without her consent was asking to get kicked in the nuts.” He grinned as she laughed again. “And sadly, I was sorely lacking in obsessive and stalkerish tendencies.”

Sam wiped at the corner of her eye, shoulders still shaking in mirth. “And that sums up half the books from ten years ago. Though, to be fair, these days, there's a lot less psycho male heroes and helpless females in romance.”

“I'll take your word for it.” Ryan said just as the waiter returned with their food. “Frankly, after reading the fifth story in a row about a ruthless tycoon obsessing over his secretary, I decided romance novels weren't for me.”

“So what else do you read, other than romance?” He brought the topic back to her, eyeing his plate with appreciation. He took a bite, enjoying the taste of the smoked ricotta tortelli.

Sam dug into her own food with equal enthusiasm and as they ate, she filled him in on some of the books she’d read.

“Silverton!” A cheery voice broke into their conversation, quickly followed by a tall, good looking man in a tailored suit. Ryan glanced up as he strode over to their table and grimaced.

“Treffen.” He responded in a less cheerful tone.

Kennedy Treffen halted in front of their table, a wide grin on his face. Even though the words were meant for Ryan, he kept his gaze on Sam, a gleam in his eyes. “Been a while, man. Where have you been hiding yourself?”

“I've been busy.” Ryan glanced over at Sam, to find her studying Treffen, face expressionless.

“Cool, cool,” Ken's grin widened, if that were even possible, and he stuck out a hand at Sam. “And this lovely lady here must be the infamous Ms. Bhatt. Kennedy Treffen, at your service.”

Sam's eyes narrowed at the condescending tone, but she placed her hand in his nonetheless.

“Infamous?” Her voice had cooled again.

“All of New York's buzzing with the news of how Silverton's old man dumped him in favour of a brand new hire. And seeing you in person, I finally understand the buzz. Pretty impressive position, for a woman such as yourself.”

The air around their table dipped several degrees and Ryan felt a bolt of fury lance through him at Treffen’s words. Ken had always been a self centered prick - right from Harvard when they had been in the same frat house, and Ryan had never liked the little shit though Ken had never done anything to annoy him directly.

This however, was crossing the line and Ryan straightened, prepared to give him a piece of his mind.

Sam's gaze snapped to his, a warning glint in those brown eyes. Her mouth was pressed together in a line, face tight with barely controlled fury.

Back off. Her gaze warned silently, telling him without words that she didn't need him to play savior.

“A woman such as myself…” the words dripped with honeyed frost and Ryan was reminded of the first time they'd butted heads in her office. “Are you referring to my academic and professional qualifications by any chance?”

Realizing he'd put his foot in it, Treffen looked uncomfortable, but only for a moment before his blasted arrogance rose back to the core.

“Yes, of course that's what I meant.” He blustered, grin back in full force.

“Name one.”

“Excuse me?”

“Since you claim to have knowledge of my qualifications, would you indulge me by naming one?”

Treffen looked to Ryan for help, but Ryan was enjoying himself too much. It felt good to see the asshole put on the spot.

“I don't carry that kind of information at my fingertips, Ms. Bhatt.” He finally replied, making a show of glancing at his watch - a diamond encrusted Rolex. “I'm afraid I have to run now…”

“Pity,” Sam traced a finger over her chin, her expression thoughtful. “I was rather looking forward to knowing exactly what you meant by a woman such as myself.”

Treffen began to back away but Sam continued mercilessly.

“Did you mean a brown skinned woman without the benefit of a Harvard education or daddy's connections?” Sam's raised her voice slightly. “Is that what you meant?”

Her words carried over the chatter of nearby tables and their occupants fell silent, all eyes trained on the drama unfolding. Treffen looked like a deer caught in headlights and Ryan barely managed to hold in his laughter.

Go Princess! Take him down.

“Look, I have a meeting in -”

“Yes, run along now.” Sam flicked her fingers in dismissal and turned back to her food. “I'm quite done with you.”

Treffen did hurry away, face as red as the tomato on Ryan's plate.

Ryan wiped the grin off his face, and reached over to touch her hand resting on the table. “On behalf of all the over privileged white Harvard trained idiots, I sincerely apologize for that. We're not all pricks, I assure you.”

The frown melted off her face, but she didn't smile, merely nodded, the playful mood of before gone. She pulled her hand free of his touch, leaned over and picked up her bag from which she extracted her tablet.

“We should discuss the appraisals now.”

Ryan sighed but nodded, hating how things had gone awry. He knew there was little hope of regaining the easy banter of a few minutes ago.

Next time I see Treffen, I'm gonna punch his lights out.