Chapter One
“C’mon, c’mon...where the hell is it?” Ryssa had been searching everywhere for that one damn file all day. It was hard enough to run a small law firm without losing important paperwork in the process. “So why haven’t I found it yet?” she growled to herself.
Frustrated beyond anything, she kept tossing papers and folders aside until the sight of something unexpected made her pause. It was heart shaped, pink and sparkly. All of which made her lip curl as she picked it up.
“What the...” Ryssa opened it just for glitter to go spraying everywhere and barely suppressed a growl.
Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
I know you hate Valentine’s Day
and I do too.
Okay enough with the poetry
Have dinner with me tonight?
--Kyran
Despite the fact that her thighs clenched and her stomach did some freakish little fluttery thing, Ryssa was not amused, and she damn sure wasn’t about to accept this. What the hell was Kyran’s problem, and why was he sending her of all people a...a... Ryssa cringed as she looked down at the Valentine’s card. She gagged.
Fully disgusted, Ryssa grabbed the card and headed out of her office and down the hall to her best friend and business partner’s. She didn’t bother with knocking, just swung the door open.
“What,” Ryssa slowly started as she balled up the card. “The hell is this?” Then she threw at him.
His brown eyes went wide right before it tapped him in the center of his forehead. Frowning, he rubbed the spot, then picked it up. “Well, I thought it was a way to ask you to dinner.” He un-balled it before muttering, “Note to self: even cards are considered extended measures of romantic evil.”
Ryssa took a deep breath. “Can I just say how incredibly stupid it is that you’d ask someone who hates this day to have dinner with you by way of extended measures of romantic evil?”
Kyran rolled his eyes as he stood to his full six feet four inches. “Rys, it’s a card. I thought you’d get a kick out of it, and the poem too.”
Her hands balled into fists at her sides. She refused to acknowledge the fact that he had his sleeves rolled up, or that his shirt was untucked and unbuttoned, or that she could see every brick contour of his abdomen. And she’d damn well keep her eyes off his no matter how hard the chocolate-brown orbs hunted hers. Nope. Nope. Nope. She’d keep her gaze on the floor and hold on to the rage slowly boiling over inside her.
“Oh I got a kick all right...for you...in the balls. I don’t acknowledge the fact that this day even exists, Kyran. You know it and you know my reasons, so why would you...”
Suddenly she was looking down at his shiny black wing-tipped shoes. “Are you gonna look at me?” he murmured.
Ryssa shook her head. “No.” She was way too scared of what she might see in that moment. She and Kyran had been dancing around this issue for years, had been friends way longer than that. The underlying tension had been there forever, just under the surface, but he’d picked the way wrong day to make a move.
One strong hand came up to cup her jaw and tilt her head up. Still, Ryssa stubbornly focused her eyes on his chest.
“Rys...” The back of that hand skimmed along her cheek, the thumb brushing right below her bottom lip.
God, her heart was hammering a mile a minute. She wondered if he could hear it, hear the shift in her breathing when he stepped closer and the scent of his cologne took her nose for a pleasurable ride.
How many t-shirts and jackets had she “accidentally” not given back because she wanted to hold on to his smell as long as possible?
“Maryssa, look at me.” Kyran’s voice was soft, but there was steel beneath the deep tone that bottomed out in the pit of her stomach and sent a mild shudder up her spine.
Against her will, her gaze found his again, and what she saw
Learning to Kill: Stories