Slow Burn
“Doyle, in a black pinstripe suit, sipped an amber-colored liquid and hung on her every word. The other occupant, a distinguished looking man in a grey cashmere suit, she assumed was Gregory Neumann, Ron’s uncle. He sat apart from the other two, his expression unreadable.
“Ah, my grandson is here,” Mrs. Darden said when she saw them, then beckoned Ron forward. “Come here, darling.”
Ashley didn’t move from the doorway as the two older men stood and Ron walked to his grandmother. It was rude to st...are, but she couldn’t keep her gaze off Ryan Doyle. The urge to accuse him of being responsible for her parents’ death and sending that psycho Dunn after her rushed through her. She fought to control her rage and the feeling of helplessness that was threatening to pull her under.
Ryan turned his head and their gazes met. It might have been a fraction of a second, but something cold and lethal flashed in his eyes before he hid it behind an urbane smile.
Ron was right, Doyle could drape himself in Armani suits and hide in stretch limos and mansions, but the man was a thug.MoreLess
“Ah, my grandson is here,” Mrs. Darden said when she saw them, then beckoned Ron forward. “Come here, darling.”
Ashley didn’t move from the doorway as the two older men stood and Ron walked to his grandmother. It was rude to st...are, but she couldn’t keep her gaze off Ryan Doyle. The urge to accuse him of being responsible for her parents’ death and sending that psycho Dunn after her rushed through her. She fought to control her rage and the feeling of helplessness that was threatening to pull her under.
Ryan turned his head and their gazes met. It might have been a fraction of a second, but something cold and lethal flashed in his eyes before he hid it behind an urbane smile.
Ron was right, Doyle could drape himself in Armani suits and hide in stretch limos and mansions, but the man was a thug.MoreLess
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