Chapter Seven

Panic - and hot on its heels, fury at the sensation - skittered up Vicki's spine. She should have known her ex wouldn't be able to keep out of her business.

It didn't help, of course, that James and Anthony had been friends so many years ago. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised to find out that James had been the one to contact Anthony, simply to try to get under her skin.

"How is he?" she asked in an easy voice as she remembered to play her part of happy girlfriend by wrapping her arms tightly around Ryan and leaning into his broad chest.

She thought she saw a flash of surprise cross James's face at her relaxed response and was pleased she'd pulled it off.

"Very well, actually. And quite generous to do us all the favor of joining the fellowship board at such a late date."

Vicki couldn't stop her eyes from widening this time. Anthony had joined the fellowship board?

Ryan beat her to the punch. "Are you saying that Anthony will be voting on Vicki's project?"

Despite the fact that James was wearing his best poker face, it was perfectly clear to Vicki just how pleased he was by this turn of events. He'd found the perfect way to punish her for turning down his advances.

"Yes, he will, along with the rest of the board. He and I were just going over the fellowship contenders' portfolios, but of course he's already quite familiar with yours." He gave Vicki an understanding look. "And while it's understood that he has a special familiarity with your skills, I have no doubt that he will be well able to judge your project on merit alone without favoring you unduly."

Favoring her? Nothing could be further from the truth. Vicki was right at the bottom of his favorites list...and had been since long before they'd divorced.

She could feel Ryan bristling with the need to defend and protect her. She appreciated the strong friendship that was behind that urge, but just having him here with her was enough.

She wouldn't rise to the bait, but she needed to know. "When will he be coming to San Francisco?"

"While he will be judging via photos and video, I have asked him to squeeze the awards ceremony into his very busy schedule." James smiled at both of them. "I believe he's making travel arrangements as we speak."

Vicki didn't bother smiling back. Why should she, when there was no point? Her refusal to sleep with James had lowered the lid on her coffin. Anthony's arrival - and vote against her fellowship sculpture - would nail it down.

Still, she refused to give James the satisfaction of thinking he and her ex had broken her. Not when it was so clearly what they were after.

Pushing her rage down far enough to be civil, she said, "I know you have so many demands on your time, James," in a soft but steely voice. "I really appreciate your taking a few moments to stop in to see me."

It was the world's politest dismissal. One even he couldn't ignore.

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Mr. Sullivan. Best of luck with your game this afternoon."

As soon as he left, Ryan said, "They can't do this, not when they know he was married to you. There's no way he can judge your work with any kind of impartiality."

"Of course they can do it. And I suspect they're thrilled about the drama of it all - that they all feel like they're choreographing a juicy reality show." She narrowed her eyes. "I won't give them that drama."

Ryan pulled her into him and held her there for several sweet moments. She wrapped her arms around him, too, and let the steady beat of his heart against her cheek soothe - and strengthen - her. She knew him well enough, and had a good enough sense of the power he must wield via fame and fortune, to guess just how hard her friend was working to push back his need to take care of the whole messy situation for her.

"I don't have to be at the stadium for a few more minutes, if you want to get out of here for a while."

Vicki had never been a quitter, but she'd finally been pushed right to the edge of her bounce-back threshold. "I can't let them win," she said softly. "So that means I need to finish what I started here."

Ryan stroked a hand over her hair. "That isn't why you need to finish it, Vicki."

Surprised, she looked up at him. "Sure it is."

He pulled her over to the clay she'd been shaping with her hands in a rush of inspiration when he'd walked in thirty minutes ago. "This is why you need to finish." He paused to give her time to study the beginning she'd been so excited about before James had come to crush her like a bug. "Because your project is amazing."

Yet again, she wondered what she would have done without Ryan there.

"Are you going to be okay?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes, I think so." A quick shiver moved through her. "I still feel a little icky all over, but fine." She tried to smile at him. "I'm glad you were here, though. But not just because of him." She felt suddenly shy. "It was fun teaching you how to work the wheel again. Maybe we could try again sometime when we both have more time?"

"I had fun with it." He pulled off the apron she'd given him and gave her forehead a kiss as he handed it back to her. "And with you."

Vicki desperately wanted to read more into every word he said, into every brush of his skin against hers, even into the friendly kiss he'd brushed against her forehead. At the very least, James's visit had been a good reminder that anything with Ryan beyond friendship was just a game they were playing.

"I don't want you to be late to the stadium because of me."

"If he comes back again, without the rest of the board - "

This time she was the one pressing a kiss to his cheek. Just as friendly a kiss as his had been. "Stop worrying. After what he just saw, he can't possibly think we're making our relationship up."

She flushed as she realized, too late, what she'd just implied...that only two people who were dating would have been so close, so playful with each other at the potting wheel. She quickly moved to clean up the mess she and Ryan had made..

"How does goulash sound after you win the game? It's a Prague specialty."

"You don't have to cook tonight, Vicki."

"I want to. Cooking always settles me down when things go haywire."

He gave her a look that asked without words just how many times she'd had to deal with haywire before now. "It sounds so good that I'll keep my post-game meeting quick."

He was clearly reluctant to leave, so she put her hands on his back and pushed him toward the door. "Go be a superstar. I'll see you tonight."

When he finally left, closing the door behind him, she wanted to collapse against it. Both from the fury and frustration at what James and Anthony were pulling, and from just how hard she was working to keep her feelings for Ryan hidden.

She looked more closely at her new sculpture. She knew what she'd felt when she was making it...and she knew what she felt now as she looked at it. Ryan had felt it too, she was certain of it. He might not be trained in art or sculpture, but she valued his opinion. And she'd believed him when he said he thought it was fantastic.

Of course, there were other things she'd felt during the past hour, in addition to the anger at her ex snooping in on her life and James trying to intimidate her.

Because when she'd looked up to find Ryan watching her from the doorway, she'd been hit with a level of silly-stupid giddy she'd never felt with anyone before. Not since she was a teenager, anyway, when she'd hear Ryan pulling his classic rebuilt car up to the curb outside her parents' garage.

It had been so easy to go down memory lane with him and to reenact that night when she'd tried to teach him to make a pot. Only, she'd never have been bold enough at fifteen to get between his legs like that.

She'd known better today, hadn't she? Being that close to him, with her hands on his while his heart beat strong and steady against her back, his breath on her bared neck, was borderline stupid when she was trying to keep it together around him.

But how could she resist?

A knock came at the door and then her new friend, Anne, popped her head in. The clothing designer was in her mid-twenties, with bright green and blue hair and a shocking number of piercings. She also happened to be a brilliant artist with extremely wise eyes.

"Did the best-looking guy I've ever seen find you?"

Vicki had to laugh at that far-too-accurate description of Ryan. She was glad to feel the laughter rush through her, replacing some of the anger and frustration, if not the lingering desire.

"He did."

"And?" Anne held up her hand. "No, never mind. I don't want to have to hate you even more than I currently do, so it's probably better if you don't give me any details. So," she asked with a lightning-fast change of subjects, "are you ready for this afternoon?"

The board members - and James - would be here in less than four hours, along with someone to film the fellowship applicant's progress to send to her ex in Italy.

Forcefully pushing away the sense of impending defeat that wanted to ride her, she said, "Hopefully. You?"

Anne shrugged. "Who knows. They'll either love what I'm working on or hate it. But honestly, whether they do or don't, I don't much care."

"Wait a minute." Vicki was confused. "I thought you wanted the fellowship."

"Oh, I do. Badly. The money would be fabulous, not to mention the contacts." Anne shrugged. "None of that changes whether or not I like my project, though. So caring about their opinions is kind of beside the point, don't you think?"

Vicki had to nod. Because Anne was right. Beyond right, actually. "How'd you get to be so smart so young?"

"Battle scars, baby. Once I realized that I beat myself up more than they ever could, I decided to start with kindness at home." She made a funny face. "I've got to find a sexier way of saying that."

"No, you don't," Vicki said softly. "Kindness is incredibly sexy."

It was something Ryan had proved to her again and again.

"You want a coffee?" When Vicki shook her head, her friend grinned and said with uncanny precision, "In that case, I'll leave you to get back to your dirty thoughts about Mr. Gorgeous."

Oh God, was she that transparent?