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She nodded. “Thank you for telling me,” she said politely.
“And Frank and I usually have a drink together on Friday evenings.”
“Sounds like fun,” she said, even more politely.
“I go away for a couple of days on business with some frequency.”
“Mmm. I’m sure you lead a busy life.”
The desire to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled was almost overwhelming but he had the feeling that would be playing right into her hands. Ryan forced himself to take a calming breath.
“So? What about you?” he asked.
Devon’s brows lifted. “What about me?”
“Is there anything I should know about your comings and goings?”
“I can’t think of a thing.”
“About your friends?”
“Nope.”
“You mean, you won’t be going anywhere with anyone?”
Devon laughed. “Don’t be silly. Of course I will.”
Ryan’s face darkened. “Dammit, that’s what I just asked you. I’ve just explained my schedule. Now I’d like to hear yours.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? Because...because it’s the civilized thing to do.”
“I don’t agree. Laying out your schedule was your idea, Ryan. I didn’t ask how you spend your time and I don’t expect you to ask about how I spend mine.”
She had gone too far. She saw it in his face the second before he covered the distance between them, but short of shrinking back against the counter—and she’d have faced down a tank before giving him that satisfaction—there was nothing she could do about it.
His hands closed like talons on her shoulders. Despite herself, she gave a little gasp as he yanked her onto her toes.
“What nonsense is this, dammit? You are my wife, and I expect you to show me the proper respect.”
“I am your partner in a six-month leasing arrangement,” Devon answered. Her heart was tripping wildly but somehow she managed to keep her voice cool and steady. “I will not do anything to embarrass you and I expect you to show me the same courtesy. I will also put up whatever necessary front you require for the benefit of your grandfather. Other than that, I don’t wish to have anything to do with you. Is that clear?”
A muscle knotted in Ryan’s jaw. “You’ve thought this out pretty carefully, I see.”
Devon stared into his cold eyes. She hadn’t been thinking at all, not until just a little while ago, but why would she ever tell him that?
“Of course,” she said.
Of course. Of course.
The words echoed in Ryan’s head. How could she be so damned calm and collected when he was—when he was...
His hands tightened on her. There were ways to wipe that remote, faintly amused look from her face. He could give in to the urge to shake her like a rag doll.
Or he could press his mouth to hers and kiss her until she pleaded for mercy, until she wound her arms around his neck and begged him to take her, right here on the gleaming white floor. He would rip off her clothing and bare her body to his hands and make love to her until she sobbed out his name and begged him never to leave her.
With a muffled curse, he let go of her and took a step back.
