Ghostwalker 01- Shadow Game

the nightstand and knelt beside the bed to remove her shoes.
    "I want to look at your leg. Does it hurt?"
    "I'm so tired, Ryland," she admitted, "I can't think about it."

    Ryland tossed her shoes aside and dragged her slacks down, tossing them aside. "I forgot you weren't wearing underwear. For God's sake, Lily, no wonder I think about sex all the time. You go from scaring me to seducing me."
    A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "How am I seducing you?
    I'm just lying here." The idea would have had merit if she hadn't been so completely exhausted. There was something about the way he looked at her that always managed to heat her blood.
    Ryland examined her calf carefully, massaging the cramped muscles. She lay quietly under his ministrations, her eyes closed, wearing only her shirt. The material was hiked up, showing her navel and the underside of one breast. Ryland slid his hand possessively up her thigh.
    Lily opened her eyes a tiny slit. "I don't know what you think you're going to be doing, but I want to sleep for a month."
    "I'm inspecting the damage," he said. And he was. There was the beginnings of a bruise on her thigh.
    "It's on my backside and my chest," she murmured sleepily. "I hurt everywhere, Ryland.
    Thank you for taking the cuffs off, I know it wasn't easy."
    He gently took possession of her hands, turning them this way and that, frowning down at the dark matching bracelets of bruises. "How did you get the bruise on your leg?" There was rage building in the pit of his stomach, but he fought to keep it under control, fought to keep his voice gentle.
    "I don't know. I got in a fight. Hilton slapped me and I lost my mind for a minute." She turned on her side, snuggling closer to her pillow. "I went after him."
    "He slapped you? What else did he do?" Ryland pushed the material of her top up her back. Her buttocks had two bluish smudges. He was beginning to wish he could kill a man twice.
    "Don't worry, I got him back," she answered. There was satisfaction in her voice. "I would have beat the holy hell out of him if Higgens hadn't interfered. I probably got the bruise on my thigh when he shot at my desk. Wood splinters went everywhere. I was so angry I wasn't feeling much in the way of pain."
    "He shot the desk right next to your leg?" Ryland rubbed his hand over his face. "Damn it, Lily."
    She didn't open her eyes but she smiled. Rather smugly. "You say that a lot."

    "Don't sound so pleased. I'm getting gray hair. You got in a fistfight with this man? I would have thought the daughter of a billionaire would be more sophisticated than that."
    "I'm too modern to let some caveman beat me," she defended.
    His fingers were massaging her scalp, searching for damage. "And he hit you in the chest? Let me see."
    "I'm not letting you see my chest." Her laughter was muffled. "Go away and let me sleep.
    That's a lame excuse to look at my breasts."
    "I don't need a lame excuse to look at your breasts," he pointed out. "I want to see the damage." He simply caught the hem of the shirt and tugged until she gave in and lifted her body enough to allow him to pull it off.
    "I really am tired, Ryland. Take the disk to Arly and see if it's worth all the trouble we went to. Give me an hour to sleep and we can go to General Ranier and see if he'll help us." Her voice was dropping lower and lower until Ryland was certain she would just drift off.
    He drew the sheet over her body and lay next to her until he was certain she was asleep.
    Ryland lifted Lily's limp hand and examined her bruised wrist in the light from the morning sun. "Damn it." He said the words softly as he bent his head to kiss the purple circles, trying to find a way to heal her. He held her hand to his chest, over his heart as if somehow the way his heart beat for her would remove the marks.
    He was so completely immersed in his desire to heal Lily's bruises, so focused on her, he didn't hear or feel any disturbance. There was no sound but something made him look up and he found himself staring at an older woman. She was framed in the doorway, a mixture of shock and fear on her face.
    Very slowly and gently Ryland placed Lily's hands on the sheet and sat up. "You must be Rosa," he said in his most charming tone. "I'm Ryland Miller. Lily and I are…" He sought hastily for a word. Any word. He didn't want to say "lovers" but "friends" seemed ridiculous when he was sitting on Lily's bed and she was naked beneath the sheet. The woman was