Honeymoon To Die For (22 page)

Had Ryder wanted only one woman at some point? Someone who cared about more than the Van Dyke money?

Information from her files flipped through her mind for a few more minutes, then she drifted off to sleep.

Bianca hadn’t slept long when she came awake, disturbed by a deep mumbling. She’d been out cold until then.

“Get radio ... killin’ him ...”  

She looked to her left.

Ryder’s jaw was tight. Neck muscles flexed. His fingers gripped the bed next to his hips. He jerked his head back and growled. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Fuck no ... don’t ...” His body arched as if stabbed. The mumbling sounded tense and his shoulders thrashed.

He was in one hell of a nightmare. Sweat popped out on his forehead. His fingers twisted the sheet.

Music still played through the room, a steady background sound that should be relaxing. Ryder was anything but.

Bianca reached over to touch his shoulder and shake him awake.

Ryder shot up and over her like a lightning strike, pinning her wrists to the bed at each side of her head, with his body holding her in place. He had a wild look in his eyes, like that of a cornered animal ready to attack. His chest heaved, straining for every breath. The muscles in his arms trembled with fury.

She held her breath, afraid to move an inch.

Ryder had said he wouldn’t harm her, but the eyes staring at her boiled with rage. This was not the Ryder who had made that vow.

This one didn’t recognize her.

CHAPTER 18

I may not get out of the Hole alive, but neither will those two.

Ryder’s hands and feet were tied. Fucking guard locked him in isolation with the Beast and Cherry Man. The guard knew those two had homemade knives, but he’d just turned his back and walked away.

No one paid attention to screams from the Hole.

“You’re safe, Ryder.”

Who said that?

He fisted his hands tighter until his arms shook from trying to break the bonds. Cherry Man was snickering.
Smile, you bastard. You die first. Come a little closer and I’ll bash your face in. Think me being cuffed will save you?
 

The Beast would wait and let Cherry Man take a few shots, make sure that Ryder was badly wounded before he came for his pound of flesh.

Didn’t matter. The Beast was dying too.

“Ryder ... look at me.”

He shook his head. That sounded like a woman. Cherry Man was messing with his mind.

Something soft brushed his chest. He flinched. It touched him again. The images blurred. He had to clear his eyes or they’d sneak up on him and get the advantage.

That female voice was saying, “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

He’d never be safe again.

Not in this prison. Not in this lifetime.

Fog rolled into his mind, distorting the room. Where was Cherry Man and the Beast? Had to be a trick. Ryder had to shake it off.

 “Look at me, Ryder. It’s me, Bianca.”

Who? He blinked his eyes and shook his head, heaving one hard breath after another. When his eyes focused, he was staring down at a woman.

Bianca.

Swiveling his head left then right, he searched for the other prisoners. This wasn’t the Hole. New age music swirled in the air, just loud enough to push out silence. He took in everything, breathing hard as pieces fell into place in his mind.

He was in his old room. In his own bed.

With Bianca. He knew her. FBI researcher.
Wife
.

He really looked at her this time. She was trying to act calm, but she grimaced as if she was in pain.

She whispered, “Please, let go.”

That’s when he realized he had something gripped tightly. Her wrists. He released her immediately then dropped his head. “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t safe around him. He’d have to figure out something else, even if it meant him sleeping in the bathroom, far away from her at night. She’d trusted him and he’d—

Fingers touched each side of his face, lifting gently until he faced her. She swallowed. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Yes, I did. You’ll have bruises on your wrists tomorrow.” Just the thought of putting a mark on a woman disgusted him, but hurting Bianca kicked him in the gut. She hadn’t been the raving bitch he’d expected on this op. Once they’d come to an understanding, she’d been just the opposite. She had spunk and a gentle nature that drew him to her and triggered his protective instincts.

Considering what he’d just done, that was laughable.

And he was still stretched over her, using his arms to bear his upper body weight. He should move, but he couldn’t.

She held him captive with the tips of her fingers sliding over his cheeks and down his throat, soothing him. When was the last time anyone had tried to soothe him?

No memory came to mind. Not one.

Massaging her wrists, he tried not to grimace when she tensed. He deserved that. When she didn’t order him to move, he ran his thumbs over the pulse points on her wrists, apologizing with his fingers when words wouldn’t come.

She relaxed beneath him.

Her fingers brushed his skin again. Nothing had ever felt so good. He gazed down, waiting on her eyes to fill with loathing. For her to shove him away. One push and he’d move. But she continued staring up at him as if she could see past all the darkness shrouding his soul to the person hiding inside. The feral being that knew he’d never be free again.

Would never know the joy of life the way he had before.

One who did not deserve to breathe the same air as this innocent woman who he shouldn’t even be touching.

But she was so soft and smelled like nothing that belonged in his world.

Fresh, sweet and so damned kissable.

Bad idea.
His body was onboard, but those parts had no conscience. He still had a smidgeon of one, though it was vaporizing with her so close.

She put her hands back on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her when she spoke. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to wake you. You were having a nightmare. Was it from when you were a soldier?”

He could understand why she’d go to PTSD for his reaction, but the trauma he’d suffered for the past five months was a whole different level than what he’d brought home from the military. He could lie and give her an answer she’d accept, but she hadn’t lied earlier when he’d expected her to deny being afraid to sleep in the same room with him.  

She’d trusted him and he’d broken that one small trust.

Shaking his head, he said, “Not from the military. We all come back with some form of that, but this was ... from prison.”

Guilt spread across her face. “I’m, uh, I—”

Ryder moved a finger to her lips. “I don’t think you got up one morning wanting to destroy my life. I know you were just doing your job and I can see how damning the evidence is.” He took a deep, unsteady breath, hoping against hope that he could convince her to do one thing. “I don’t blame you, but if we find something that points to someone else as Kearn’s killer I
need
you to consider that possibility.”  

She reached up and grasped his hand, moving it away from her mouth and didn’t let go as she gave him a long, thoughtful look. She gave herself a little nod, as if making a decision. “I’ve never had PTSD, but I do have nightmares about putting away an innocent person. I’m one of the best in my field. Get me inside VDE and I’ll look at everything with an open mind.”

Some of the pressure in his chest eased at that one concession. “Fair enough.”  

This would be a good time to apologize again and get the hell off of her.

Clearly, he had no sense of timing, because he hadn’t moved an inch.

She nibbled on her lip then the pink tip of her tongue peeked out between her lips. Her slender fingers still stroked his neck. What was she thinking?

That if she stopped soothing him he might get angry and she’d be dealing with a crazy man again? She needed more than two hours of sleep. He had to convince her she was safe, but that was going to be tough at this point. “Can you go back to sleep?”

She shook her head.

Damn. He’d frightened her. “What if I leave and promise to stay away tonight?”

“Don’t leave. I’m not afraid of you.”

Was she telling the truth or just placating him? Didn’t matter. If he could get her back to sleep, he wasn’t shutting his eyes again. Not tonight. He’d figure out something else for tomorrow night. Normal sleep would never be a part of his life again. His fingers had wandered over to play with her hair, sifting the fine strands.

Everything about her was so feminine and understated.

Gentle. A kind of gentle he never thought he’d touch again.

Making the conversion from life as a prisoner whose every minute is controlled, to living as a free citizen took more than walking through a doorway without chains on his wrists and feet. He’d grown a chip on his shoulder the size of a boulder that had the initials FBI carved into it.

They may not have set him up, but they’d built a case against him instead of hunting more suspects. Someone had to pay for the injustice he’d suffered and still faced.

He felt her eyes roving over him, watching him until he cut his gaze back to hers.

Someone owed him, but not Bianca. Right now, he didn’t see her as an FBI agent.

He saw her as Bianca, the woman who had every reason to scream and bring her agency down on his head, but had shown him compassion instead. Even when she’d wanted to pry deeper earlier in the day, she’d held back at times when he’d needed space.

She’d back off and give
him
space, but she was a tigress when she went after anyone else.

Lady Anne had never been outmaneuvered that Ryder knew of, which made the bitch someone he’d have to watch for retaliation.

His blood churned at the idea of Lady Anne, or anyone else, harming Bianca. That was crazy, but he’d had crazier thoughts.

He owed her for not running screaming from the bedroom when he’d been locked in a nightmare with her pinned beneath him.

His body took that moment to realize it
still
had a soft female beneath it and reacted. The boys were up and ready for action.

Her eyes flared with surprise.

Had he finally frightened her?

Her lips parted, but she said nothing. He’d tasted those lips today, and not nearly enough. He wanted to kiss her so badly he couldn’t think past that want, a primal need that was more than just having a woman so close.

It was
this
woman.

That mouth.

She should order him to get off of her. He hoped she’d do it soon, before he could screw up any worse.

Why was she staring at him as if she expected something? What did she want?

He ran a finger down the side of her cheek and she moved against his touch, as if asking for more. Ah, hell. That was dangerous, because he wanted to give her more.

Maybe one kiss in apology.

He lowered his head and sealed his lips to hers carefully, ready to move with the slightest push of her hand.

Her hand hooked around his neck.

Fuck it. He was a goner.

He kissed her and even after having tasted her mouth all day, he hadn’t been ready for her to kiss him back with gusto. She’d been sucked into responding a couple of times, but nothing like this. With absolute abandon, with a female craving that reached inside him and seduced his soul.

A foreign feeling exploded in his chest. One he knew he should be backing away from, something that would turn into pain when this week was over, but he hadn’t felt this good in so long, ever, that he couldn’t let go.

Her hands were everywhere, on his shoulders, his neck, in his hair, clutching him. He’d had other women, but none had ever given with such honesty.

Hooking his arm around her waist, he pulled her to him, shuddering at the feel of her body beneath him and the brush of her silk-covered breasts against his bare chest. He cupped her breast and she moaned into his mouth, just the opening he’d needed to slide his tongue past her lips and play with hers. She had such a dainty tongue, and it moved with a timidity he found sensual. So different from the confident FBI Agent Brady.

The vulnerability he’d sensed in her was sexy and sweet, and reminded him that he had to be that much more gentle because of it.

Every touch was crossing a line he shouldn’t, but all those amazing sounds she was making and the way her body moved kept encouraging him. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, had learned tomorrow could be taken away in an instant.

He’d gone without feeling anything for so long that he couldn’t give this up. Didn’t have the power to back away.

Until she said stop, he was on go.

His hand moved under the silk camisole, running over smooth skin to her breast. He cupped the soft mound and scraped his finger over the hard tip.

She arched up at him.

Holy mother. His hard-on and loaded sac screamed for release.

There were reasons he couldn’t do that, and he was doing his best to remind himself that this was an unexpected gift that came with dangerous consequences. But when a man held pure passion in his arms, he wanted it all.

To feel everything with this woman.

His survival instincts were trying to warn him away from this temptation, but they didn’t have a chance against his need for Bianca.

CHAPTER 19

Heat raced from Bianca’s breast to her womb.

Her body strained, reaching for something just out of her grasp. She was lost inside this onslaught of sensations.

Ryder’s hands were like lightning and hot oil on her skin one minute, and light as a feather the next.

She’d only meant to ease his guilt over jumping her. To calm him down so they could stick out this week together.

But then he’d looked at her as if he were a starving man and she was a gourmet feast. As if he couldn’t take another breath without kissing her.

She should have ordered him to move back across the bed or roll off of her at the very least, but her body had launched a little campaign in his favor, racing around to shake up her hormones and invite them out to play.