Halfway There (Fool's Gold #9.75)(14)
Ryan didn’t try to conceal his surprise. “I didn’t think you wanted to take on research. It’s not cheap.”
“I don’t have unlimited resources, but the company’s doing well and I have some wealthy investors.”
Ryan wondered if Josh was one of them.
“You’d have access to our customers’ facilities for testing. I’ve talked to most of them already, and they’re interested. Plus, we’d share a percentage on any licensing of patents.”
That got Ryan’s attention. Generally when an employee developed technology while working for a company, the company owned the patent and any income derived from it. After all, developing the technology was the job description. If a product did well, there could be a bonus of some kind, but that was it. To be offered a percentage was significant. Over time, that could be real money. Assuming Ryan was able to come up with something they could market.
“I’m intrigued,” Ryan admitted. “Give me a couple of days to think about it?”
“Sure. Get back to me Monday. If you’re interested, we’ll talk numbers. In the meantime, why don’t you go look at houses in town? Check out the town and see if this is somewhere you’d enjoy living.”
“I will.”
There was also someone he wanted to talk to. Someone who made the idea of sticking around even sweeter. Only Fayrene had a plan, and he wasn’t sure how she would react when he told her he might not be a short-term fling after all.
* * *
FAYRENE LOOKED AT her dining room table and nodded with satisfaction. Dellina had sent her specific instructions on how to set up the table to look both romantic and casual. Apparently it was all about the layers. A tablecloth with a runner and placemats, done in pretty colors. She’d added a few flameless candles and some fresh flowers.
In the kitchen, the salads were done and she’d prepared chicken with mushrooms and white wine. For the meal, she’d called Ana Raquel. Her twin had sent her several recipes that were delicious but didn’t challenge Fayrene’s undeveloped cooking ability. Or as her sister had put it: “Even you can’t mess these up.”
Fayrene hoped her sister was right. She wanted Ryan to relax and maybe have a bit too much wine. Because she’d made a decision—tonight she was going to seduce him.
It had been several weeks of fun dates and interesting conversation. Plenty of hand-holding and light kisses. If he was trying to seduce her with his warm eyes and gentle touch, he’d done a heck of a job. She was primed. Beyond primed. She was antsy and hungry, and she wasn’t talking about dinner.
But the meal was an important part of her plan. She was going to lull him, feed him and then rip off his clothes. She’d thought ahead enough to have a box of condoms waiting in her nightstand drawer.
She’d chosen her outfit carefully. She wanted to look pretty and sexy without being obvious. There was also the issue of being easily undressable. To that end she’d picked a sleeveless blouse and a skirt. They were feminine, and there weren’t any hidden closures. She’d painted her toes, used scented body lotion and put on a matching thong and bra set. While she didn’t actually like wearing a thong, desperate times and all that.
Now she glanced at the clock. Three minutes to six. Ryan was always on time—yet another characteristic she liked about him. He would be here and they would kiss.
Just the thought of his firm, teasing mouth on hers had her thighs heating, but she knew she couldn’t dwell on the image of his large hands roaming her body. There was a meal to get through. She wouldn’t think about him cupping her br**sts or the feel of his mouth on her tight, aching—
The doorbell rang.
She jumped and hurried toward it. Ryan stood on the tiny porch of her small apartment. She smiled and let him in.
“Hi,” she said as she raised herself up on tiptoe to kiss him.
“Hi, yourself.”
He handed her a bag of Jelly Bellys.
“Fruit only,” he teased.
She laughed, but before she could say anything, he kissed her. Just one soft brush that had her nerve endings swooning. Did they really have to have dinner? Maybe if she shrugged out of her shirt he would get the message and simply take her right there on the entryway floor. Or they could move to the sofa. She’d never done it on the sofa, but she’d seen scenes in movies and it looked doable for ordinary people. She was less sure about the whole standing, him supporting her position, although at this point, she wasn’t about to be picky.
“Something smells good,” he said.
For a second she thought he meant her, but then she remembered the simmering entrée. “I hope it lives up to the hype. Come on. I have some wine.”
“Wine would be good.”
She went into the kitchen to pull the bottle out of the refrigerator. He followed, which made her eye the counters. They could do it in here, she thought. They were the right height and—
“Fayrene, I need to talk to you.”
Something in his tone had her turning around to look at him. His dark eyes were serious, his expression almost stern. Desire fled, leaving behind worry. Something had happened, she thought, putting down the bottle of wine. Something important.
Possibilities crowded her brain. He was leaving sooner than he’d planned. He didn’t want to see her anymore. He’d found someone else.