shook his hand. “Thank you, Peter. We appreciate it.”
Peter held her hand a moment too long and Ryder scowled. “I want a cup—no, make that a pot of coffee, a glass of water and a box of aspirin.”
Macy disentangled her hand. “And a cup of Earl Grey tea, if you have it.”
Peter hurried off to carry out his orders as Ryder stalked around the room, lowering the blinds to eliminate the curious stares from people walking past, then dimming the lights halfway for his headache’s sake.
He turned to Macy, surveying her. She’d worn her silken hair back in a damn knot again. It’d been pulled back every time he’d seen her except the first day they’d met. And the night they’d kissed. The night he’d felt the long strands of her hair slide through his fingers.
He wondered how she’d react if he asked her to wear it down. Not well, judging by the thin frown line marring her forehead. She had something on her mind. He was sure no one else would have noticed but he’d spent almost a week watching her. And today she was a little distracted and that frown line appeared whenever she looked at him. It wouldn’t be long before she told him what was bothering her.
He dug his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You handled that group of protesting workers well.”
She lifted one shoulder and let it fall in an elegant shrug. “Their questions were reasonable.”
“And yet you refused to answer those questions.” Although the workers had barely realized that fact. She’d defused the tension effortlessly, leaving the workers feeling like they’d been heard as they returned to the production line.
Macy slid gracefully into a chair and laid her briefcase on the pale green table. “I’m in no position to promise them job security until we decide to buy the factory or not.”
“Which only made it harder for you to find a response to placate them. Yet you did.” He probably would have fobbed them off with a “no comment” so Macy’s smooth handling of the situation impressed him all the more.
As Macy pulled her laptop from her briefcase, Ryder rubbed the tense muscles at the back of his neck. She obviously intended to use this session for work. Not going to happen. Not now that he finally had her alone again. Besides, he wanted to see if she’d tell him what was on her mind.
He undid his jacket buttons. “We don’t need to go over those contracts, stats or whatever else you have in there. You’ve briefed me well enough during the tour and I’m confident in your knowledge if we move into other territory.”
Macy hesitated then replaced her briefcase on the floor. “Okay.” She turned alluring hazel eyes on him. “What do you want to do?”
He sank heavily into the chair at the head of the table just as a young woman entered with their drinks and a plate of sweets then discreetly slipped out again.
He popped two painkillers into his palm from the box on the tray. “We can sit in silence. Or we can talk. Your call.” He swallowed the tablets then chased them down with the glass of water.
Macy shifted in her seat. “There is something I’d like to talk about.”
He poured a black coffee and sat back, letting out a long breath. “Shoot.”
He could almost see her change gears as she lifted her mug of tea to her lips and sipped. “You hired extra security for the front of the office building.”
Ryder leaned his head against the padded headrest, warm mug nestled in his hands, and watched her. “I needed to. The paparazzi can’t be trusted to abide by the law.”
“And you instructed them to escort me home at night.” Her voice was soft, almost musical. It soothed his aching head.
“It’s only next door.” It was his fault the vultures were following her. This was the least he could do.
She reached for a shortbread and held it between two slender fingers. “And I suspect you’ve told them to create diversions when I’m ready to go home. There tend to be fewer photographers when I step out than when I check through my office window.”
“All part of the security firm’s service.” He lifted his legs onto the seat beside him and crossed them at the ankles.
In two delicate bites, she’d finished the sweet biscuit. Ryder swallowed hard. Oblivious to her effect on him—or was she?—Macy retrieved her tea. “Tell me another thing.”
Drawing his focus from her mouth back to her dark-fringed eyes, he nodded.
“Are they the same firm supplying security to my apartment building?”
Her tone was polite inquisitiveness, but he sighed. Knowing where this was going, he casually took a slug of coffee before replying. “Yes.”
“And you’re paying for that service, as well.” She cocked her head to the side and again he was reminded of her feline quality.
“Yes.” Of course he’d made sure she was safe. What sort of reprobate would he be if he hadn’t?
She picked up her mug again and held it in both hands as she sipped. “How did you convince the owner to let you do it? He apparently refused security once before because it would give the wrong image.”
Ryder held back a smile. She missed nothing. In fact, he had the strongest feeling she saw far too much—she’d always keep him on his toes once they were married.
“I bought the building.”
Macy’s lightly glossed lips parted, as if to speak, then she closed them again. What emotion was she hiding behind her long lashes? Was she pleased he’d done it? Indifferent?
She crossed her legs and the higher foot began tapping a beat in the air. “Even if you’d signed a contract of sale, you wouldn’t have ownership so soon.”
“I overpaid for it and used cash to ensure immediate transfer of the deed.” He’d paid through the nose, but it’d been worth it to have control over the building’s security. To be able to safeguard Macy.
Her eyes flashed fire. “Ryder, I’m not some damsel you have to save. I can look after myself. I don’t appreciate secret maneuverings in some misguided attempt to protect me.”
He shrugged and threw back the rest of his coffee before plonking the mug on the table. “It was no trouble.” In truth, he’d been pleased to be able to do something for her.
“No trouble? You bought my building!” Seeing her exquisite mouth move with such passion was a pleasure to behold. He could have spent all day just watching it, just talking to her while she was fired up. But to be fair, he’d put her mind at ease.
“Macy, you agree the paparazzi problem was of my creation?”
Her eyes narrowed marginally and her answer was perfectly clear even before she replied. “Completely.”
He arched a brow. “Then allow me to fix it.”
She sucked in a lungful
