Oh, he’d been nice to her by telling her she was stunning, but he was probably being more polite than honest.
He’d gone to all this trouble today, only to discover she wasn’t changeable.
Her mother had always reminded her of that old saying, You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Faith didn’t really care for the sow’s ear idea, but she certainly was no silk purse.
They arrived home a short time later and Ryan headed into his office and closed the door. Faith endured the house staff’s fawning and telling her how lovely she looked, knowing they were simply being polite. She thanked them, then escaped to the safety of her room to be alone.
For the longest time she stood in front of the full length mirror reviewing her new clothes and appearance. She shook her head and walked away.
Some things were better left unchanged.
Ryan tried for the fifteenth time to read the newest proposal for improvements and expansion at the hotel, but he couldn’t concentrate on business.
Instead, his mind wandered to the incredibly beautiful brunette he’d married. Her hair shined like mink and her crystal blue eyes sparkled like diamonds. And those shapely legs teased him, peeking out under the sinfully short skirt she’d worn home from the store.
He dropped his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. What had he done?
When he’d seen her at the salon, he’d felt an instant rush of heat that almost knocked him down. The transformation had been incredible. All he really wanted to do was give her a little lift, make her feel better about herself, and quiet the gossips at the office who’d insulted her.
Instead he’d played Frankenstein and created a monster. A petite, gorgeous monster who threatened to turn him into a raving sex maniac right in the middle of the hair salon.
It was all too much. First, trying to have a normal conversation in the dressing room while she’d been wearing that hot and sexy black underwear had him hard and in agony instantly. Then, that dress she’d tried on molded to her every curve and he’d wanted to strip her naked and make love to her right then and there.
The moment his gaze had settled on her at the salon, he’d wanted to pull her against him and drag his fingers through her silky hair, grasp it in his hands and pull her mouth against his. He’d fought the raging urge to ravage her full lips with hot kisses and snake his hands over her body and down those luscious legs until…
Until what? Obviously, he couldn’t have done any of those things in public. But he’d wanted to. God, how he’d wanted to.
Well, now he’d done it. He’d made his wife desirable. More so than she already had been. At least before it had been subtle. Now, she stood right out there. And he had almost two months to wait before he could make love to her.
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was aching and hard and using every ounce of restraint he possessed to keep from going to her and putting an end to this ridiculous wait. His body pulsated with the need to cover her body with his, to drive into her moist heat and feel the agonizing pleasure of releasing inside her.
He raised his head, suddenly shocked at where his thoughts had drifted.
He needed to get her pregnant. That was it. Not because he desired her. He didn’t have those kinds of needs. This was a physical thing only.
And a business arrangement. Nothing more.
But, he had almost let it get personal. And getting involved with Faith, with any woman for that matter, went completely against his standards. No way was he going to fall in love. Ever.
He’d been personal witness to the havoc created by so-called love, and wanted no part of it.
So, something had to change. Ryan had to convince Faith to have sex with him sooner. He needed to get her pregnant so he could leave her alone, stop thinking about her, stop wanting her.
It was a simple matter, really. Ryan was an expert at getting women into bed. And Faith was a woman, just like any other. All he had to do was set a plan in motion and it would be only a matter of time until she leaped into bed with him, thereby satisfying both his physical desires and his business needs.
Seduction. Ryan tapped his pencil against the desk and formulated a plan, smiling when it came to him.
In no time at all he’d have Faith in his bed, and then quickly thereafter out of his thoughts.
Round one was about to begin.
Chapter Seven
It didn’t take long for the men to come crawling out of the woodwork.
Ryan peeked outside his door. Faith worked away, oblivious to the number of guys strolling up and down the hallway. Dressed in her well-tailored black Armani suit and matching pumps, she was the epitome of fashion.
The blue silk blouse brought out the sapphire of her eyes. The silk stockings and three-inch heels made her legs stand out like they never had before. Especially since the skirt of her suit ended a few inches above her knee.
She oozed style, class and elegance.
Gone was the plain wallflower, and in its stead a beautiful, desirable butterfly.
Ryan hadn’t realized how many butterfly-hunters populated his executive offices. Men who hadn’t left their desks in months suddenly found reasons to stroll by Faith’s office, stopping to say hello and tell her how nice she looked.
Did they think he wouldn’t notice?
Faith didn’t pay any attention to them. Whenever someone came by, she smiled, engaged in minimal conversation and then resumed her work.
Didn’t she know these guys were hitting on her?
On her. His wife. The woman who was taken, unavailable, married.
To him.
Okay, so they were married in name only. But the guys sniffing around her didn’t know that. And he didn’t like them ogling her. In fact, he was downright pissed off about it.
Maybe he’d send out a memo.
He cringed at his wandering thoughts. He could see it now.
Memo to all male members of executive staff: Stop looking at my wife.
She’s mine. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.
Yeah, that would be professional, not to mention mature.
Disgusted, he tossed his paperwork aside and stepped to the doorway for the fifth time in the past half hour. Faith glanced up and smiled.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
Yes. I need you. Naked. In my office, on my desk, right now. “No, thanks.” He turned and went back to his desk.
This was ridiculous. He was losing it, acting like a lovesick schoolboy.
And where the hell had this possessive streak come from? It wasn’t like him at all to care whether a woman he was dating was getting hit on by another guy.