Guilty Love (Completed)

Chapter Two

"You both work full - time, though," Ritchie pointed out. "Yes, well..... Barty wasn't brought up to look after himself," she defensively said. "He was an only child, his mother was middle-aged when he was born, and so thrilled to have a child of her own that I'm afraid she waited on him hand and foot. It made her happy to spoil him." "And you've gone on spoiling him?" She didn't answer that, he saw the flicker of resentment in her face, and her lids came down like shutters over her eyes, to hide her thoughts from him.

Ritchie picked up on them all the same, obviously she wasn't happy with all these questions, with the implied criticism of her husband, and of course she had every reason to feel that way. He had no right to interfere or even comment. Their marriage was their business. If she wanted to make a doormat of herself, why should he stop her? Doormats were useful, as he had often found. His mouth twitched with sudden amusement, yet he didn't change the subject. He could never help trying to improve whatever he found and did not approve of.

"Does his mother live near by? Couldn't he have dinner with her?" he suggested, always looking for the practical solution to a problem. That was what made him so good at his business. He knew how to make things work, machinery, money, people. "His mother's dead," Linzi said gravely. Ritchie sobered, pushing back his thick, dark hair with an impatient hand. "Oh, sorry to hear that. I've lost both my parents, I know what a gap that makes. Having a family gives you your own support system, doesn't it? Well, then, couldn't he take his father out to dinner?" "His father died when Barty was a boy." There was that look of sadness about her again. It turned her blue eyes a strange colour, like state in the rain, thought Ritchie Calhoun, observing the phenomenon closely.

She was endlessly fascinating to watch, never the same two minutes running. Lately he had found himself watching her all the time, and he frowned suddenly, the admission taking him by suprise. He had spent years trying to stop his secretaries getting too interested in him, it would be stupid to fall into the same trap himself. Yet he was still curious enough to ask, "When did his mother die?" he moved away from her slightly, however settled himself on the edge of her desk, his lean body at ease, the long legs crossed and his foot swinging. "Two years ago." Linzi was rather perplexed, why was he so interested in Barty's family? She had got used to Ritchie's offhand manner at work, his drive and sarcasm. She had never seen him in a mood like this.

"So he has no family now, except you?" Ritchie thought aloud slowly, his eyes thoughtful. Was that why she had gone on spoiling her husband, to comfort him, make up for the loss of his mother? "No," she said, her voice low and husky. "He has nobody but me." There was something touching about the way she said it. She had only been working for him for six months and they had never exchanged any personal confidences before. He didn't know why he was asking questions about her private life now. Indeed, one part of him protested about the wisdom of showing so much interest in her. Yet he kept on watching her, his grey eyes glimmering, brilliant with curiousity. What was she thinking? What did that look in her eyes mean?

There was something faintly childlike about her, with her long, straight silvery hair and those wide, large-pupilled blue eyes, yet he had begun to sense that there were secrets buried behind her open gaze, and his curiosity, once aroused, wasn't easy to smother. Most of the women he met were so obvious, such simple equations, they didn't hold his interest longer than it took for him to find out what lay behind their smooth, glossy façades. At first sight he had thought Linzi York was even simpler than usual, she was as calm as milk, as ordinary as bread and butter. It had taken him months to find out his mistakes, and even now he didn't really have a clue what she was hiding, only that she was hiding something.

Ritchie was determined to get to the bottom of her mystery, however long it took. "How long have you been married?" he lazily enquired, and she gave him a faintly exasperated glance. "Four years, ten months." It was Ritchie's turn to be startled. "I'd no idea you'd been married that long!" she didn't look old enough. "I assumed you had just got married when you joined us." He remembered their first interview suddenly, with a faint suprise because he saw her differently now. It had been a cold November morning. She had been wearing a carnation-pink dress and had glowed with warmth in the grey light, yet she had seemed so young.

** I'll be updating this faster cause I know what it feels when you're waitingg on a new update.. Until next chapter.. Muahh ~ Vote and comment if ya feel like wanted to.. But if you don't want to vote or comment, it's your business.. I won't push y'all to like my story.. Muahh to my readers from the sarawakian woman-child-like here..