in an expression of
shock.
“Yes.” He walked over to
the sofa, bent over and plunked her unceremoniously on it. She
managed to strike him a couple of more times followed by a glare
that could melt ice. “I am not a sack of potatoes!”
“Stay put. I’ll be right
outside that door.” He pointed a finger in her face followed by a
stern look.
She bit her lip to keep
from crying and folded her good arm across the one in the sling and
refused to look at him. If she did, she’d end up bursting into
tears, and there was no way in hell she was going to show weakness
in her father’s house in front of his employees. It would only
prove the man was right about her needing help.
He shrugged and left the
room shutting the door behind him. He stood next to the closed
door. He intended on staying there while she spoke with the
psychiatrist. Chances were she wasn’t going to say anything, but it
was a start. Several servants passed him but he remained there with
his arms folded across his chest and his feet shoulder with apart.
No one was getting in or out of that room without his
permission.
After an hour the door
opened and he stepped aside as Katya came out. She shot him a hot
look of contempt before she went by him up the stairs.
To Ryan it didn’t matter
how angry she was with him because it took the focus off of what
happened to her. If that’s how she needed to do it, then it was
fine. He leaned into the room. “Did she talk to you?”
“No, but something like
this takes time. She’s been traumatized.” The older man said as he
put his notepad in his suitcase. “Are you her
boyfriend?”
“Personal
security.”
“That makes sense then,” he
said snapping the briefcase shut and walking by him. Then he paused
and turned back. “I’ll be back this Friday. Could you possibly
refrain from hauling her in the room by her hair like a victorious
caveman? She’s in a fragile place right now.”
It was obvious the man did
not approve of his methods, but hey, she showed up. “If she goes, I
won’t.”
“She will. I don’t think
she wants to go through that again.”
When Ryan returned to her
room she was in the bathroom. He listened at the door for a moment
and heard the shower. Satisfied, he turned and went back to his
room to unpack closing the adjoining door to a crack to give her
some privacy. He had two large black Samsonite suitcases and one
large polished aluminum case resting on his bed. He lifted the
aluminum one off the bed and slid it underneath. Then he started
unpacking his clothing. His keen ears picked up her moving around
her room a few minutes later. Then silence. Chances are, she was
angry with him, exhausted and retired for the night. He should do
the same. Instead, he pulled out his iPad and intended to go over
the file he’d had on her. It was encrypted, and unless you were a
genius hacker, there was no way you could break into it so he
wasn’t worried about bringing it with him. Besides, most of those
geniuses were employed at his organization.
He changed into light grey
cotton pajama bottoms with a drawstring that hung loosely on his
hips. He negated the top leaving his chest bare and sat in a
comfortable chair to study the file. It was warm and he left the
doors open to the balcony liking the feel of the breeze off the
ocean. Every now and then his eyes went to the adjoining door. His
expression was unreadable, but his thoughts were very
active.
He’d gone over the files a
hundred times, but he still couldn’t get past image of first
meeting Katya, bruised, battered and beaten. She had a lot of
pride, but you could see the damage this had done to her, not just
physically. Yes, it was to his advantage because she needed to
trust someone, but something in him started to feel guilty. He
wasn’t sure before, but he was now. She was an innocent in all of
this. He didn’t like manipulating innocents. His brother wouldn’t
like it either, certainly not to avenge his death. He
shock.
“Yes.” He walked over to
the sofa, bent over and plunked her unceremoniously on it. She
managed to strike him a couple of more times followed by a glare
that could melt ice. “I am not a sack of potatoes!”
“Stay put. I’ll be right
outside that door.” He pointed a finger in her face followed by a
stern look.
She bit her lip to keep
from crying and folded her good arm across the one in the sling and
refused to look at him. If she did, she’d end up bursting into
tears, and there was no way in hell she was going to show weakness
in her father’s house in front of his employees. It would only
prove the man was right about her needing help.
He shrugged and left the
room shutting the door behind him. He stood next to the closed
door. He intended on staying there while she spoke with the
psychiatrist. Chances were she wasn’t going to say anything, but it
was a start. Several servants passed him but he remained there with
his arms folded across his chest and his feet shoulder with apart.
No one was getting in or out of that room without his
permission.
After an hour the door
opened and he stepped aside as Katya came out. She shot him a hot
look of contempt before she went by him up the stairs.
To Ryan it didn’t matter
how angry she was with him because it took the focus off of what
happened to her. If that’s how she needed to do it, then it was
fine. He leaned into the room. “Did she talk to you?”
“No, but something like
this takes time. She’s been traumatized.” The older man said as he
put his notepad in his suitcase. “Are you her
boyfriend?”
“Personal
security.”
“That makes sense then,” he
said snapping the briefcase shut and walking by him. Then he paused
and turned back. “I’ll be back this Friday. Could you possibly
refrain from hauling her in the room by her hair like a victorious
caveman? She’s in a fragile place right now.”
It was obvious the man did
not approve of his methods, but hey, she showed up. “If she goes, I
won’t.”
“She will. I don’t think
she wants to go through that again.”
When Ryan returned to her
room she was in the bathroom. He listened at the door for a moment
and heard the shower. Satisfied, he turned and went back to his
room to unpack closing the adjoining door to a crack to give her
some privacy. He had two large black Samsonite suitcases and one
large polished aluminum case resting on his bed. He lifted the
aluminum one off the bed and slid it underneath. Then he started
unpacking his clothing. His keen ears picked up her moving around
her room a few minutes later. Then silence. Chances are, she was
angry with him, exhausted and retired for the night. He should do
the same. Instead, he pulled out his iPad and intended to go over
the file he’d had on her. It was encrypted, and unless you were a
genius hacker, there was no way you could break into it so he
wasn’t worried about bringing it with him. Besides, most of those
geniuses were employed at his organization.
He changed into light grey
cotton pajama bottoms with a drawstring that hung loosely on his
hips. He negated the top leaving his chest bare and sat in a
comfortable chair to study the file. It was warm and he left the
doors open to the balcony liking the feel of the breeze off the
ocean. Every now and then his eyes went to the adjoining door. His
expression was unreadable, but his thoughts were very
active.
He’d gone over the files a
hundred times, but he still couldn’t get past image of first
meeting Katya, bruised, battered and beaten. She had a lot of
pride, but you could see the damage this had done to her, not just
physically. Yes, it was to his advantage because she needed to
trust someone, but something in him started to feel guilty. He
wasn’t sure before, but he was now. She was an innocent in all of
this. He didn’t like manipulating innocents. His brother wouldn’t
like it either, certainly not to avenge his death. He
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