Tall, Dark And Irresistible. Joan Elliott Pickart
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“We’re going to have a ground-breaking ceremony with the press invited,” Elizabeth said. “I think I’ll buy a shiny shovel and put a huge red bow on it to turn over the first scoop of soil on our land and…”
As Elizabeth chattered on to Ryan about the ground-breaking ceremony, he smiled and nodded, then watched in frustration as Carolyn left the room without making eye contact with him.
At last able to escape, Ryan hurried to Carolyn’s office where she was sitting at her desk busily typing on a computer keyboard. Ryan stood in front of the desk and cleared his throat. Carolyn continued to type.
“Carolyn,” Ryan said finally.
“Hmm?” she said, her fingers flying over the keys.
“Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I was way out of line, and I apologize for my outburst. It’s just that I… No, there’s no excuse for my behavior. I’d like to make amends. Would you have lunch with me? I’ll come back at noon and pick you up. Please?”
Carolyn stopped typing, pressed a key to save the work, then turned her head slowly to meet Ryan’s gaze.
“Lunch?” he repeated, producing his best one-hundred-watt smile. “Please, Carolyn?”
“I bet you’re accustomed to getting just about anything you want with that smile…Ryan,” she said. “Well, chalk this up as a new experience for you. Have lunch? With you? Do let me know if there’s any part of this reply to your request that you don’t understand, but my answer is really quite simple. No.”
Chapter Two
That night Ryan sat in his favorite chair in his living room, an open and forgotten book on his lap as he stared into space, frowning.
Carolyn St. John, he mused. The events that had transpired earlier continued to haunt him. In the silence of his apartment, there was no way to escape from again squaring off against his less-than-flattering behavior hours before.
Ryan sighed, leaned his head on the top of the chair and glowered at the ceiling.
Yes, he’d come a long way, since receiving the globe from his grandfather, toward achieving his goal of finding an inner peace about his heritage. But what he had done that morning was screaming the fact that he still had miles to go in his quest.
Even more disturbing, he mentally raged on, was the negative impression he’d made on Carolyn. He’d slam-dunked that lovely woman in an area of her life that was obviously of great importance to her. He’d infuriated her and very possibly hurt her, as well.
No wonder she’d refused to go to lunch with him. He was lucky that she hadn’t popped him in the chops.
Ryan set the book on the table next to him, got to his feet and began to pace restlessly around the large room, now and then dragging one hand through his hair.
He couldn’t just erase from his mind what had happened and go about his business. He had to make amends to Carolyn, not only to ease his conscience but because…well, because he was attracted to Carolyn and hoped the lack of a ring on her finger meant she was single and not involved with anyone.
Carolyn St. John, Ryan thought, continuing his trek, was a very intriguing woman. Her slender, small-boned stature gave the initial impression that this was a woman who needed protecting from harm’s way, should be taken care of, because she was…delicate.
But, oh, man, there was far more to Carolyn than the first glimpse would indicate. There was a depth to her, layers that beckoned to be discovered, one by one.
She was passionate, there was no other word for it—about her career, about the families she formed by uniting orphans from overseas with people who had empty arms and were aching to have a child to love and cherish.
She had a temper…oh, brother, did she ever…when an emotional button of importance to her was pushed by an idiot like himself who dared do such a stupid thing.
She was stubborn. He’d done everything he could think of at the time to set things right, mend fences, make amends for his crummy behavior, but she wasn’t having any of it, no way. She’d lifted that pert little chin of hers, nailed him in place with those expressive, dynamite blue eyes of hers and refused to go to lunch with him. She had said no in such a way that he’d known he had better hit the road while he still could.
“Oh, yeah, she’s really something,” Ryan said, slouching back onto his chair. “But, Carolyn, my sweet? I may have lost that battle, but this war isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.”
With a weary sigh Carolyn entered her bedroom, eager to slip into bed and end this day that had seemed to be a week long.
That darn Ryan Sharpe, she thought, as she removed her dress, had taken up residency in her brain. Why was she wasting mental energy on a man she didn’t even like? He was rude and opinionated. He’d dumped emotional baggage on her about his heritage and practically condemned what she was devoted to, heart and soul and mind.
Clad in her slip, Carolyn crossed the room, plunked her elbows on the top of the dresser and scrutinized her reflection in the mirror with a critical eye.
What, she wondered, had Ryan Sharpe seen as a man looking at a woman for the first time? Well, she’d been told over the years that she was pretty, and she was, she supposed. Not gorgeous, nor stunning, and definitely not voluptuous, just sort of wholesome, picture-on-a-box-of-corn-flakes pretty.
Ryan was the type of man who could have his pick of gorgeous, stunning and voluptuous women. He no doubt drew women like bees to honey.
A chill swept through Carolyn as Ryan’s scathing words echoed in her mind.
“Stop it,” Carolyn said aloud, realizing she was close to tears. She wrapped her hands around her elbows and drew a steadying breath. “Oh, yes, Ryan Sharpe, I know all about being different, not fitting in. Being different, different, different.”
With a wobbly sigh that held the echo of tears, and with hands that trembled slightly, Carolyn reached up and removed her double hearing aids.
Three days later in the middle of the morning, Carolyn rolled her eyes heavenward and frowned as a young woman entered Carolyn’s office carrying a bouquet of flowers in a pearly blue vase.
“Oh, no, Janice,” Carolyn said, leaning back in her chair and covering her eyes. “Not again.”
“Peekaboo, these are for you,” Janice said merrily. “Again. This is the third bouquet in as many days, Carolyn. Everyone in the office is just buzzing with curiosity as to who your new suitor is.” She set the vase on Carolyn’s desk. “Whisper his name to me. I swear I won’t tell more than ten people who he is.”
Carolyn laughed. “Oh, really? That’s an offer I can barely refuse, but I’ll force myself to pass.”
“Well, darn it,” Janice said, then removed the small white envelope