Honeymoon To Die For (23 page)

Ryder had a mouth that should be licensed as a lethal weapon because he was killing her. Kissing him was crazy, like being shot up to the stars on a burst of light. His lips kissed her face and neck, pausing to linger and drive her insane with stupid thoughts like what it would feel like for Ryder to touch her everywhere?

His fingers thrust into her hair and held her head to lift her lips back to his for another deep kiss. Then his fingers were moving down her side and up under her silk top until he covered her other breast and tweaked her nipple.

Muscles at the juncture of her legs clenched. She sucked in air and bowed up, muscles clenching.

He muttered, “You’re so fucking amazing.”

With her body twisted in knots she shouldn’t have been able to smile, but she grinned, reveling in the way he’d said that.

He lifted his head and stared down at her so long she came back to earth and started feeling self-conscious until he whispered, “I love looking at you. You’re beautiful.”  

No one had ever really looked at her with that intensity. Ryder made her feel things she couldn’t explain. How could she be so hot for him and not for anyone else before?

Not in the entire four months with Bernard had she been this turned on. Not once.

Bernard had pursued her and charmed her until she thought she’d fallen in love. What a laugh. She’d fallen for a psychopath. A narcissistic misogynist who wanted only to control her and humiliate her when she’d failed sexually.

She’d been too naïve to understand all that then.

Studying profiles of psychotic individuals for the FBI had caused her to see Bernard in a new light.

Away from home for the first time, she’d allowed someone with a sick need to control her and dominate her to reach his orgasm. He’d destroyed her from the inside out and had ground her femininity into the dust along with what little female ego she’d possessed.

Even knowing what she’d later learned about him and his warped psyche, she hadn’t been willing to take that risk with another man.

Not until now.

She didn’t want to analyze why. That might just be exhaustion beating down her resistance, but she didn’t think so.  

Ryder kissed her again, gently, which was in total contrast to the chaos his hands were causing on her breasts.

“That feels
so
good.” She moved, rubbing her hips against him.

He growled and moved a hand down to her abdomen.

As if a switch had been thrown, that brought up a memory of Bernard pressing down on her abdomen to hold her in place while he shoved inside her.

She gripped Ryder’s wrist, the one at her abdomen. Reality crashed in with a sour taste. Would she really allow him to take this further?  

Allow him? You’re encouraging him.

Then he would accuse her of being a tease.

Bernard had screamed that at her all the time, telling her he’d been forced to sleep with other women because Bianca teased him, then turned into an ice sculpture.

She squeezed Ryder’s wrist. “Stop.”

He did, moving his other hand from her breast.

Why had she let this happen? Ryder hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing she hadn’t opened the door to. Now she’d humiliated herself with him and had a week to suffer it. “Uhm, I didn’t mean to—”

“My fault.”

“What?”

“I told you I wouldn’t do anything, then I keep breaking my word. I’ve never broken my word.”  He shook his head at himself. “I won’t again.”

“It wasn’t all you.”

His silver eyes were dark and shadowed. “We both know you didn’t start that. Like you said, you didn’t mean to do it.”

She’d always taken responsibility for her actions, but Bernard, that bastard, had taken advantage of her by convincing her she really had been at fault.

Ryder wasn’t manipulating her.

He was shouldering all the blame, which fit the man she’d read about when he was in the military. She couldn’t let him. “That’s not what I was saying.”

He frowned, confused, so she clarified, “I was saying, I didn’t mean to act like a tease. I just ... had to stop.”

That must have surprised him because the harsh lines of his face softened. “I can’t figure you out. You tell me you don’t like sex, but you’re so smoking hot and passionate that the only thing I can guess is you were brainwashed by an idiot.”

His heartfelt words stroked her heart. “I don’t know about being hot or passionate—”

“I do. You are.”  He seemed determined that she accept his assessment. One of his long fingers grazed her cheek. “You should get some sleep. I’ll find a spot to rest somewhere else.”

“No.”  

“Yes. I
will
keep my word this time.”

Why did hearing that vow fill her with disappointment? Because she was a mass of trembling nerves that wanted to be touched again, which meant Ryder was the only one thinking clearly. She should be setting the example by acting professionally and agreeing to the distance, but where she was uncomfortable with him earlier she now wanted him to stay close.

He’d convinced her to share the bed earlier by telling her there was always a chance that someone would open the door during the night even with it locked just to see if they were in bed together.

When he moved to the side, she reached over and cupped his arm. He paused, staring at her with those unyielding eyes. “What?”

“Stay.” She glanced over at the door. “In case.”

He considered her words for several long seconds then nodded. “Don’t touch me if I’m in a nightmare. I’ll deal with it.”

She nodded, because he’d know she was lying if she spoke. Her Uncle Jerry had shoved her against a wall once when she’d snuck up on him and tapped his shoulder as a joke.

At thirteen she hadn’t known any better.

The glazed eyes and dangerous face Uncle Jerry had turned on her hadn’t found her joke funny. Mama had walked in and ordered her brother in a calm but firm voice to stand down.

Mama had told him Bianca was a friendly.

That had gotten through to him.

Uncle Jerry’s vacant eyes had flickered with recognition, then confusion and, finally, guilt so heavy Bianca had wanted to hug him. But he’d backed away and run out of the house, not stopping until he’d disappeared into the woods.

Mama’s eyes had gotten shiny then she swiped a hand over them and told Bianca not to worry, that he’d return in a day or two.

He did, but it had taken a long time before Bianca could hug him again. He’d shied away from her for a while. After Mama explained about PTSD, Bianca spent hours reading up on it, anything to help her Uncle Jerry come back to a point that he’d trust himself around her again. Mama coached Bianca that Uncle Jerry needed to be touched and reminded that he deserved to be loved.

Mama had been right.

After a while, the light had slowly returned to Uncle Jerry’s eyes. He’d even helped Bianca and Sara Lynn with their repair-refurb charity. He was the one who’d taught Bianca how appliances were put together and what made them run.

Everything had a value, especially people.

Uncle Jerry’s eyes had that haunted look less often now. But it had shocked her to recognize that same look in Ryder’s eyes as soon as he realized he had Bianca pinned down.

Nobody was that good an actor. She’d seen the real Ryder Van Dyke in those unguarded moments.

At the VDE offices earlier in the day, when he’d worried about bruising her arm, she’d dismissed his concern as just trying to play nice, but not tonight. His self-disgust over harming her when he hadn’t been cognizant was real.

And he’d been willing to sleep in the bathroom on a hard floor or in the tub to keep from breaking his word.

A man who’d spent the last five months sleeping on a hard cot would give up his awesome, soft bed rather than hurt her or break his word.

Ryder stretched out on his chest, arms folded around the pillow and his face turned away from her.

Would a man with no conscience care how he treated you? Would he care about his word to you?

Oh, God, had she made a mistake?

Had her worst nightmare of helping to convict an innocent man actually come true?

Who was Ryder Van Dyke really?

If he didn’t pull the trigger to kill Kearn, then who did? And more importantly, if Ryder was innocent, how was she going to prove it?

CHAPTER 20

Munk hit the speed dial on his phone. He stretched out on the deep mattress, enjoying the plush surroundings in his room in Buckhead, with its picture window overlooking Atlanta’s famous Peachtree Street. Daylight glowed behind the sheers. It was nice to get a cushy spot for an op. Unnecessary, but nice.

His client answered, “Are you in place?”

Munk grinned. “Ready to go. The minute the little wife is on her own, I’ll be there.”  

“She has plans to shop tomorrow, but she won’t be alone.”

“Keep her away from Ryder and I’ll find my moment.”

“Remember I have two goals. One is to terrorize her and the other is to convince her that Ryder is behind the attacks. Try not to kill her until I give the word.”

Munk smiled. There was a lot of latitude between terrorizing and death.  “Your nickel.”

CHAPTER 21

Bianca walked out of the bathroom in a robe with her hair pulled up on top of her head. “What time is it?”

“Not even daylight yet. An ungodly hour for this household.”

“Not me. I’m an early bird.”  
And I’ve got somewhere to be.
“You can shower first.”

Ryder waved a hand from the bed. “Nah, I’m not in a rush.”

But I am and I can’t get out of here until you’re preoccupied.
“But you’re the only one with a job.”

The perpetual music played overhead, but they’d agreed not to push their luck even with the music on, and to avoid risky conversations
unless they were
necessary.

Smoothly changing the subject, Ryder got out of bed and asked, “Would you like some coffee? I’ll have a pot delivered.”  

“You mean we don’t have to go to the kitchen or somewhere to get it?”

He gave her a wry smile that said he’d just discovered a weakness.

Guilty. Want an instant human? Just add coffee.  

He stepped over to the desk phone on a side table and punched a button, then requested a tray be sent up. Turning back to her, he shrugged. “Having anything delivered to your room is a perk of wealth. Take advantage of it while we’re here.”  

What she wanted to take advantage of was the VDE computer system. It would take all her acting skills, which were limited, to play the happy wife around Janeen today. Not that she had anything against Ryder’s older sister, but Bianca ranked shopping right up there with scrubbing toilets.

She did it only when she had no other choice.

A tap at the door broke into her thoughts. Ryder spoke to Edward then took a large tray filled with a sterling silver coffee server, two mugs and a dish of pastries.

“Oh, croissants,” Bianca crooned.

“They’re all yours. Edward knows I don’t do breakfast.”

She lifted the pastry to her lips and her robe parted an inch. She snagged it closed, but not before Ryder’s eyes had shot to the gap with laser accuracy.

His eyes darkened with a clear message of what he wanted and that’s all it took for her body to react. They stared at one another, each waiting on the other to make a move.

Striding into the closet where he grabbed some clothes, Ryder avoided looking at her on the way to the bathroom. He muttered, “I’m taking a shower.”

Good. Stay in there for an hour.

That should be enough time for what she needed to do. Bianca dashed into the closet and changed to her running top, shorts and sneakers. Next she dug out her customized iPod and hooked it on her hip, then ran the earphones up to her ears.

She slowed near the bathroom door on her way out.

The shower sounded like Niagara Falls with all those water jets on.

Ryder had spent a long time showering when they’d been with the team. She could understand that after having no privacy in prison.

She didn’t need much time for a quick two miles. Hopefully, that’s all she’d need to make contact with Nanci. Bianca tiptoed down the stairs, then laughed at herself. As if anyone would hear her in this hotel. O-dawn-thirty might be an ungodly hour for this household, but not for a girl raised in the country.

Hooking her earphones in place as she reached the front door, she slipped outside where she stretched a little, then jogged down the tree-lined drive. Would the guards allow her to leave? When she reached the gates, she ran in place and waved at the security guard who shot her a surprised look then nodded at her and opened the gate.

No media sitting outside today.

Maybe she and Ryder were old news.

Breaking into a jog, Bianca flipped on her music, hoping the reconfigured iPod worked the way Murdock intended and that she’d be hearing Nanci’s voice soon. Murdock must not trust the Slye Temp group since she’d been warned not to let Ryder know when she spoke to Nanci via radio transmission.  Lengthening her stride, Bianca was actually enjoying the time alone in spite of not being a dedicated runner. Clouds littered the predawn sky that glowed red with warning of rain on the way.

Halfway down the block the sidewalk wound to the left past homes just as massive as the Van Dyke manor.

To think her parents had raised a child in a two-bedroom house. Their one-level home was a little rough around the edges, but always clean. Her mama mopped wood floors that had never been varnished. After seeing where Ryder grew up, Bianca would take her loving home over his any day.

A few cars passed her, traveling in both directions. Too busy to be the quiet road Nanci had indicated, so Bianca took a right and slowed her pace as she headed down a hill.

She caught sight of a dark, four-door sedan turning behind her in her peripheral vision.  

The car moved slowly toward her.

Was it Nanci?

Note to self, get more information next time such as what vehicle to expect.

~*~

Margaux held her temper as she strode through the upstairs level of the Slye Temp offices, a civilian area that functioned as a bona fide high-level corporate security business. Sabrina could have set up camp in a shiny tower in downtown Atlanta, but the head of Slye Temp had chosen a spot in the older area of College Park to be near the Atlanta International Airport. Plus the property provided an underground space for black ops planning.