Unworthy Heart: The Donnellys, Book 1 by Dorothy F. Shaw Read Free Book Online Page B

fake, clothes-on sex, resulting in one amazing orgasm for her. And now, she couldn’t even bring herself to talk to him in IM. How the hell would she face him in the office tomorrow? What a fucking mess.
    Resuming her seat, she changed her IM status to red. Now he’d know she was online, but busy. He’d be working on the project too. At least she hoped so. If he needed her, he could at least ping her.
    An hour and a half, and another glass of Chardonnay later, she’d located the info she needed to cover the miss on the project, and then prepared a report to email Ryan. The wine settled warmly in her veins, reducing her agitation, and she decided to IM him before sending the note. Pulling up the chat window, Maiya stared at it. Dammit. Her internal warning bell clanged as loud as Big Ben’s citywide tolling. She should stay away from him. Nothing good would come from pursuing this further.
    Guys like Ryan weren’t interested in women like her: a chick from the wrong side of the tracks. It was safer with the guys she was used to. Ryan would fuck her until he had his fill and then cast her aside. And who needed that? Typical. Yeah, she was the typical one, like he said.
    Maiya set her fingers on the keyboard to type out a message…and Ryan signed off—his green status light changing to gray. Relief blanketed her mind. Leaning back, she moved the computer onto her lap and went back to the email she’d started. It contained only the bare facts, and once the report was attached, she hit Send.
    Maiya wandered into the bathroom and peeled off her work clothes. She turned on the water for a bath and her cell phone dinged.
    Ryan.
    Spinning to bolt from the room, Maiya’s feet tangled in the bathmat on the marble floor. With her body in full motion, momentum propelled her forward and she almost faceplanted into the wall opposite the doorway. Feeling pretty damn stupid at her schoolgirl-with-a-crush reaction, she sucked in a strangled breath and walked , in an adult fashion,the rest of the way to her phone. “Fucking. Hell.”
    Frustration swarmed in Ryan’s mind when he read the email from Maiya. He retrieved his cell from the kitchen counter. Once back in the family room, Ryan planted his butt on the couch and typed out a text message thanking her. Staring at the unsent message, he didn’t know if he was pleased with her for taking the time to finish the research, or agitated because she obviously was able to focus…and he wasn’t. Damn her .
    It was a testament to her work ethic though. She hadn’t gotten so far up the corporate ladder without being able to get the job done. At the last minute he added to the message, inquiring if she was okay. He hit Send and waited. After a few tense minutes, his phone beeped.
    Maiya: You’re welcome. And… I’m not sure.
    Ryan: I’m sorry. You want to talk?
    Maiya: Again, not sure.
    Ryan: What would it take to convince you? *wags brows*
    Lying down, he stretched out on the couch. Unsure of what he was doing, yet knowing full well he, again, wouldn’t stop himself.
    Maiya: Knock it off. LOL
    Ryan: Ah, an “LOL.” Are you smiling now?
    Maiya: You’re a pain in my ass.
    Ryan: Speaking of ass, yours is damn fine.
    This was like a runaway train. Tragedy was the only destination on the schedule, but he was determined to stay on the ride anyway.
    Maiya: LOL. Um, thanks?
    Ryan: Haha, I’m serious. So, what are you wearing?
    Maiya: Nothing. You?
    He stared at her answer for a moment, his mouth dry. Then he typed the next message.
    Ryan: Woman, that’s hot. I’m still dressed. Send me a pic. I need to confirm if the rumors about your many tattoos are true.
    Maiya: No fucking way! LOL And we are NOT talking about my many tattoos. ;-P
    He chuckled. She wouldn’t send him a picture, but he wanted to see what she’d come back with. Her answer wasn’t a surprise—though he did want to know about her tattoos. She rarely talked about them. Some of the guys in the office had plenty of