The S Before Ex. Mira Kelly Lyn

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СКАЧАТЬ want to examine too closely exactly why. He’d had enough surprises in the last day—no need to go searching for more. “You brushed the guy off and he ignored it.”

      “I could have taken care of it, though.” There was no accusation in her words. Merely assurance. “I was about to. You don’t need to worry about me.”

      Is that what he’d been doing? Before he’d arrived, the answer would have been yes. Definitely. Only, at first glance, it became clear Claire wasn’t a woman who couldn’t stand up for herself.

      So if his actions weren’t protective, that left possessive.

      And that was just nuts.

      Shoving his hands into his pockets, he nodded toward the street where his car waited. “Let’s get this over with.”

      CHAPTER THREE

      CLAIRE pulled her key from the lock and swung open the door to her room. Upon arrival the night before, she’d thought it quaint. A cozy retreat after a long day exploring the streets of Rome. But with Ryan’s arm braced against the frame above her head, his big body only inches away, ready to follow her into the space … she saw it for what it was. Cramped. A claustrophobic shoe box jammed with a double bed, small dresser, nightstand and single chair in the corner.

      “You don’t have to wait for me to pack,” she said with a cautious glance over her shoulder.

      Ryan nodded into the room, hanging back until she’d cleared the far side of the bed before walking to the window. “I don’t mind. I’ll carry your bags down.”

      Wonderful. “Suit yourself.”

      Her cheeks flushed at her snarky tone, but the truth was, she resented the hell out of Ryan’s railroading tactics—even if he did have her best interests at heart. They were the reason she hadn’t wanted to get within shouting distance of him. Hadn’t wanted to give him the opportunity to employ that subtle brand of strong-armed coercion that made him the wild success he was.

      She hadn’t wanted to be talked into a decision that wasn’t her own, but in less than ten minutes he’d done it. And typical of his unique ability, he’d left her wondering how she hadn’t seen his perspective from the start. It was infuriating.

      When she’d begun pursuing the divorce, her goal was simply to sever ties. They’d both established lives of their own and, from her stance, there was no sense in demanding some portion of the assets she hadn’t needed prior to the divorce after it. Then Ryan came back, batting aside her proposal with words like unacceptable, misguided, and ridiculous, and her response to that had been … emotional. She wouldn’t discuss the possibility of an alternate settlement because she had a point to make.

      She didn’t need him. Didn’t need anything from him. No more sacrifices, obligations or debts to be paid. Ryan had paid enough already. Too much.

      But when he’d brought up the practicalities of the situation, she recognized her shortsightedness for what it was. And she’d been about to own up to it too before the jerk had gone and made that final threat about the gallery and keeping her in court for the rest of her natural-born life.

      Her breath blew out in a huff and she threw open the closet door. Blouses, skirts, pants and dresses hung on the short rod, neatly organized by outfit and occasion. So much for that. Gathering everything into a single armload, she turned and dumped the lot onto the bed, returning to the closet for the luggage she’d stored at the bottom. She’d planned to stay a week, and now here she was packing up after less than a full day.

      Irritating, but in the greater scheme of things, it wasn’t anything she wouldn’t recover from. And if it meant being able to finally close the book on that life they’d shared, then cutting her vacation short was a sacrifice she’d gladly make.

      Efficiently slipping the hanger free of a washed silk crepe de chine top, she shot a glance at Ryan as he rubbed a hand over his opposite shoulder. The fabric of his tailored shirt pulled taut across the broad expanse of his back, revealing the flex and pull of muscles she used to massage at the end of a long day. He’d been in his prime then, but now, somehow he seemed broader. More powerfully built than he’d been at twenty-two.

      A sharp pain bit into her hand, snapping her attention to the hanger jabbing into her palm and the blouse inadvertently mangled within her grasp.

      She didn’t like being this close to Ryan. She hadn’t wanted to meet with him at all. Hadn’t wanted to know what changes so many years had wrought in the man she’d once loved beyond measure. She’d seen the headlines. Heard the rumors. Hated the idea that he could be so different. And yet, here and now, a part of her was hoping everything she’d read was true. That the man he’d been was gone and all that remained was a body vaguely reminiscent of the one she’d known. It would be so much easier to defend this heart she’d painstakingly pieced back together against a body alone.

      The pity of it was, she wouldn’t even have to try.

      Twenty minutes later, Ryan stood at the window looking out over downtown Rome, his back to the chaos erupting behind him.

      “No, you heard me right,” Claire grumbled into the phone wedged between her shoulder and ear. “He says two hours. Sally, I’m sorry to do this to you.”

      Yes, he got the point. He was the villain, inconveniencing everyone with his outrageous demands. Whatever. He was done with the placating and appeasement. Claire might not like that he’d cut into her vacation, but ultimately, she’d started the ball rolling with that fast pitch of papers. He’d just caught her off guard by being ready with a mitt and then calling her out.

      By his count, they were even.

      “Wait, when did the email come in …? They have instructions already on the East Wing exhibit. Drew has the insurance information too …”

      The corner of Ryan’s mouth kicked up. This was the fifth segue the conversation had taken back to gallery business in so many minutes. That after three calls on the taxi ride back from the piazza alone. Claire was as tied to her work as he was, and by all accounts loving every minute of it. She was good. Efficient. And decisive with a professional polish and an authoritative edge that hadn’t been part of her makeup when they’d been together.

      Gone was that pretty princess who was just a little bit spoiled but so very sweet he’d been rubbing his hands together at the prospect of taking care of her.

      And gone too was the broken shell of a girl reality had all but shattered.

      She was so different.

      In some ways. In others … well, even his reactions were the same.

      With her attention split between Sally and packing, he allowed his gaze to meander slowly down the length of her—from where the silky fall of her dark hair spilled over the too-thin, fuzzy white of her clingy sweater. The trim tuck of her waist and the filmy skirt that covered hips and legs he’d once known every curve and cut of, but now could only imagine, based on the hints revealed beneath the flow of fabric. And then there they were. Slim ankles, supported by the damnedest contraptions he’d ever laid eyes on.

      Too many inches of slender spike to be safe strutting the downtown streets of Rome.

      She leaned over the bed, one leg planted on the floor, the other cocked at СКАЧАТЬ