Free Riding the Storm by Heather Graves Page B

with dogs. She’ll take care of it.’
    Ryan attempted a smile, wondering if Fiona would mind living up to all these promises being made on her behalf. He didn’t have to wonder for long.
     
    On arrival at the Harrisons’ place, he could see they’d been lucky. Somehow Glen’s property had been spared the worst of the storm. A couple of pool boys were already scooping the leaves and debris from the pool and hosing down the loungers which had been tossed around by the storm. A team of gardeners had been employed to clear up the wreckage, setting the flower beds to rights. Inside, the house was very much as Ryan remembered it; he could see no evidence of storm damage. Since the property had its own generator in case of emergency, they had suffered no loss of facilities at all.
    They came in to the family room to find Fiona in the midst of a conversation on her mobile phone. She waved briefly to Glen and gave him a tight smile before she continued.
    ‘Yes, I do see where you’re coming from, Mr Mayor. Glen does have a home largely untouched by storm damage. And you should know we’re doing our bit. We’ve already taken inthe Lanigan boy so there’s no way we can take in any more orphans of the storm.’
    Ryan experienced a flash of annoyance that she was making him the excuse for not accommodating anyone else. On top of that, she spoke of him as if he were a helpless child when, in fact, he had taken care of his mother since his father died and, if Mike’s father hadn’t insisted, he would much rather have stayed at home.
    She listened to what the mayor was saying and Ryan could see she was becoming irritated, two spots of colour appearing high on her cheekbones. ‘Yes, indeed. We might well have enough room and beds to accommodate six more people but we just don’t have the facilities or the manpower to look after them. Selfishness doesn’t come into it.’
    The mayor must have had a lot more to say on the subject of selfishness but Fiona withdrew from the conversation, cutting him short. ‘I’m sorry but things are extremely hectic here at present. Trust me. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can offer you something more.’
    The mayor wasn’t prepared to let it go at that; Fiona’s dark eyes flashed and her nostrils flared as she listened to further criticism. To Ryan, she seemed a dragon lady indeed.
    ‘I said I’ll get back to you.’ She ground out the words. ‘And I’m not in the habit of lying.’ Her expression softened as she caught sight of Tinka, who was cringing in Ryan’s arms, daunted to find herself in unfamiliar surroundings.
    ‘Oh, what a sweet little dog. Come to me, darling.’ She held out her hands as Tinka scrabbled to reach her. ‘And what’s your name?’
    ‘It’s Tinka,’ Ryan murmured, irritated that the little dogshould transfer her affections so easily. ‘She was my mother’s dog.’
    ‘Poor sweetheart.’ Fiona dropped a kiss on her head, receiving a good licking in return. It occurred to Ryan that Fiona had far more compassion for this little bereaved animal than for any human being left destitute after the storm.
    He knew it was unwise to make snap judgements but he disliked the woman intensely, although he had not met her before. Dressed in tennis clothes that showed off her elegant, spray-tanned legs and well-toned body, she looked as if she had suffered no hardship from the storm. Her glamour was stranded in the late eighties with a mane of brittle, blonde hair teased out of existence and heavily lacquered to keep it in place. She wore a luminous pink lipstick that might have flattered her as a teenager but now only emphasized her thin lips and her eyelids were painted a startling, electric blue, the sparse lashes liberally coated with mascara to match.
    Glen Harrison took just a moment to introduce them and made himself scarce, going outside to confer with his gardeners.
    ‘You should know it wasn’t my idea to come here,’ Ryan said at once, folding his