That’s what her head told her. Her heart was another matter.
Stay tough. Stay strong.
She looked toward the locker room door again, then down at the phone Landon had given her when he’d gone inside, searching for anything to take her mind off remembering. He was everything she should be afraid of after her ordeal. Big. Muscular. Scarred in numerous places. With huge hands he could use to crush her in a second if he wanted. And when she remembered the way he’d gone after those men in that yard before she’d fallen over the fence, she knew she should be terrified of him. But she wasn’t. There was something about him that comforted her. Something that made her feel alive. And right now, she didn’t care who or where that came from. She was hanging on to it like it was her last lifeline.
“Everything okay?”
Her head shot up at the sound of his voice, and she exhaled a breath of relief when she found him standing right in front of her. She hadn’t even heard him come out of the locker room. But she was so glad he was here now. More relieved even than when she’d been freed. “Yes. Did you find it?”
His smile was pure victory when he patted his pocket. “Bingo.”
He closed his hand over her elbow and turned her back toward the front of the club. Heat tingled across her skin. She liked his hands. Liked them against her. Liked the way they made her feel.
People glanced their way. She knew they made an unlikely pair. Her, bruised and frail, and him, buff and muscular. As they moved into the lobby, she found herself wondering if he was married, if he had a girlfriend, or even what kind of woman he was interested in.
Probably one like that brunette over there in the tiny spandex shorts and skimpy sports bra. One with a small waist, huge rack, and voluptuous hips. Not a skinny, small-breasted schoolteacher from Idaho.
She was suddenly aware of the way the clothes he’d brought her at the hospital hung off her frame. She’d always been thin, but she’d lost quite a bit of weight this last week—more than she’d thought. And glancing over the hard bodies around her, she was also achingly aware of the sallowness to her skin, her dirty hair beneath the ball cap, and the fact she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup.
No, she definitely wasn’t his type, and she was smart enough to know that what she was feeling for him was hero worship. He’d saved her life. On a normal day, he wasn’t the kind of guy she’d even look twice at. She didn’t even like muscles.
They exited the club and stepped onto Western Avenue. Damp, fresh air from the earlier rain filled her lungs. She looked up the hill to where the car was parked two blocks away.
“Are you okay?” Landon asked at her side.
“What? Yeah.” She wasn’t going to lean on him. She’d already done that too many times to count, and she was determined to be her old self. She started walking. Halfway up the hill, her lungs grew thick and her breath labored. They passed a storefront window, and from the corner of her eye she caught their reflection, but she forced herself not to look closely. She couldn’t, because she knew she wouldn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Right now she needed to focus. Needed to think about Eve. Needed to do anything to keep her mind away from the past.
“We can stop if you’re tired.”
“No,” she huffed, pressing her hands against her knees as she leaned forward and forced her feet to keep moving up the hill. “I’m . . . fine.”
“Son of a bitch.”
Strong arms wrapped around Olivia from behind, and she gasped as her feet left the ground and she found herself cradled against Landon’s muscular chest. She pressed a hand against his bulging pec and then regretted it. It was big. Strong. Safe. “P-put me down.”
“Why? So you can fucking collapse on me?”
Moments in the back of that van rushed through her mind, and she slammed her eyes shut, shaking her head back and forth, digging her fingernails into his muscles. “Don’t swear. Don’t . . . I can’t . . .”
“Okay. Okay, just breathe. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. That’s it. In and out. You’re okay.”
The city seemed to swirl around Olivia, but slowly she realized her feet were on the ground, she was leaning into Landon’s muscular body, and his arms were wrapped tight around her, his hand running up and down her spine in a languid motion, his voice right at her ear, reassuring her with his words and warm breath.
She opened her eyes and blinked several times. He’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and was now leaning back against the wall of a building while she tried to work her way down from a panic attack she couldn’t remember starting. People passed on the busy street. Several glanced their way, but no one stopped. She focused on the push and draw of air in her lungs and the soft brush of his fingers against her spine. Told herself she was safe, that she wasn’t in that van, that she wasn’t going back there. Ever.
“That’s better,” Landon said softly in her ear. “That’s—”
Something in his pocket vibrated. He let go of her and pulled out a phone.
“Damn.” He cringed. “Sorry. I need to take this.”
Olivia nodded and tried to back out of his arms, but he held her tight, not letting her move, and part of her was grateful. She sank back into him while he lifted the phone to his ear and said, “Miller.”
Her cheek pressed against his chest. Warmth seeped from him into her, and the strong, steady beat of his heart calmed her in a way nothing else could.
“Yeah.” His voice echoed through his chest and into her, sending vibrations all through her body. “I know where that is. No, I’ve got her. No, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. I’ll have her call from the car when we’re on our way.”
They—whoever he was talking to—were discussing her. The independent thirty-year-old inside told her to suck it up and stop leaning on him, but her body wasn’t listening. And though she knew this was hero worship at its finest, she didn’t care. He smelled too wonderful, felt too good, and for a moment, she needed the comfort.
“Okay. Will do.” He tugged the phone from his ear and slipped it back in his pocket, and then his other arm came around her, holding her close all over again. And she couldn’t fight the sigh that slipped from her lips, or the way she snuggled in tighter and just let him hold her.
“Wh-who was that?” she asked against him, not making any move to pull away.
“My boss,” he answered, not giving her a chance. “Your sister’s at a safe house north of here. If you want to see her, I can take you to her.”
Olivia lifted her head and looked up into his eyes. They weren’t just brown like she’d originally thought. They were a warm, rich chocolate with flecks of gold and green, all swirled together in a mix that made her wonder which was the true him. The way he’d taken her captors out in that yard flashed in her mind, contrasting so strongly with the way he was holding her now, like she was made of glass, like she was the most fragile thing in the world. Part of her could barely believe he was the same person.
But he was. The jagged scar across the side of his face and the other near his chin proved he was more than just her comfort. He was a force not to be crossed. And soon she’d be home, and he would be out of her life for good.
She swallowed hard, not wanting to think about that too much just yet. The thought of going home—to that small house where she’d been grabbed in the first place—left a hole the size of the Grand Canyon right in the middle of her belly. “You’ll take me to Eve?”
“Yes. On one condition. You eat something. Those fluids at the hospital weren’t enough. You need energy.”
Her stomach rolled at the thought of food, but she nodded. She did need to eat. She needed to get stronger. Needed to get better. Needed to forget everything that had happened, so she could stop leaning on him once and for all. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He released her, then swept her into his arms all over again.
This time she didn’t try to wiggle free. “I can walk, you know.”
“I know. But I
like this better. Humor me.”
She liked it better too. And if she was going to be with him for only a few more hours, she was going to enjoy every last second.
She settled into him and sighed.
Eve stood at the counter in the massive kitchen, chopping vegetables for the stir-fry Zane was making. Someone had recently stocked the refrigerator as if they knew the house were about to be used, which seemed so strange to Eve—having people who rushed around preparing things for your arrival. She’d gotten so used to doing things on her own over the years, she couldn’t comprehend relying on others like that.
Soft lips pressed against the nape of her neck, and the knife stilled in her hand as she felt Zane move in at her back. He threaded one arm around her waist and up under the shirt she’d grabbed from the master closet. Something else she couldn’t comprehend. He’d said this house belonged to a client, but when he’d told her to find something clean to wear in the closet, she’d been startled to discover a variety of women’s clothing, in all different sizes.
Zane’s palm pressed against her bare lower belly, and he splayed his fingers, sending tiny tremors of heat all through her body. His other hand reached around for a yellow pepper from the cutting board. “Don’t cut me, beautiful.”
He popped the pepper in his mouth and chewed, and a chuckle vibrated at her back when he kissed her nape again. “Tasty. But not as tasty as you.”
He eased away, and as she heard the sizzle and pop of the wok at the stove, she closed her eyes and tried to tell herself she hadn’t just fucked things up royally by sleeping with him again—correction, by making love with him. But a tiny voice in the back of her head said she had. That if she’d hoped to save his life, it was going to be near impossible now.
“Are those almost ready?”
His voice dragged her out of her wandering mind and back to the moment. Setting the knife down, she lifted the cutting board and took it over to him at the stove. “Here.”
She wasn’t the least bit hungry, but she knew she needed to eat. Plus, making a meal kept her hands busy and her mind off her sister and Carter and everything else she couldn’t change now.
“There’s wine in the cellar,” Zane said, stuffing one hand into the front pocket of his low-slung jeans, using the wooden spoon in the other to stir the steaming vegetables. “Why don’t you go pick one out?
“Really?” Eve wiped her hand on a dishtowel and lifted her brows. “The owner won’t care?”
Zane chuckled. “Trust me, he won’t even notice it’s gone.”
Curiosity got the best of her. She leaned a hip against the granite counter. “What kind of guy has women’s clothing in different sizes hanging in his closet? Whose house is this?”
Zane lifted the pan and shook the vegetables around. “You listen to much rock music?”
“Some.”
“What about reality TV?”
Eve’s brow lowered. “Not much. Not a lot of it overseas.”
“A few years ago there was this guy on one of those singing shows who tore up the charts. Really made a name for himself. He didn’t win, I think he placed like third, but he was the big story of the season.”
Eve didn’t watch a lot of TV in general, but she did like to page through magazines in the airport. She thought back to what she knew about those voice competition shows, and when she realized who he was talking about, her eyes flew open wide. “Tate Kendrick. You’re saying the front man for Kendrick, the wildly popular rock band that’s exploded these last few years, owns this house?”
He nodded. “Aegis did some security work for him. After his success on that reality show, his band totally took off. He’s got a place on Whidbey Island. This is just his ski chalet.”
“His ski chalet.” Eve glanced around the enormous great room with its great everything. “I can’t imagine what his real house looks like.”
Zane chuckled and stirred the veggies again. “He likes Ryder, though why, I don’t know. Gave us free reign of the place, including the wine cellar.” He pointed toward a door at the far end of the kitchen. “Why don’t you go see what you can find?”
If Eve expected to find a couple bottles of chardonnay in the basement, she’d thought wrong. When she flipped on the light and climbed down the cool, polished wood stairs, she found herself gasping at the four full walls decked out in rows and rows of racks, each one filled with a different bottle.
Holy cow. She turned a slow circle, not knowing where to look first. This kind of money wasn’t even something she could comprehend. As she stared at the collection, something Zane had told whispered through her mind.
After he’d been injured in Guatemala, he’d gone to Mexico to recover. To some compound. She hadn’t thought much about it then, but now she couldn’t help but wonder who it had belonged to and how well he knew these people with money coming out of their ears. His life now was completely different than it had been before. He hobnobbed with the rich and famous. Aegis had to pay him well. A lot of guys who left government work went on to make a killing in the private security field, and he’d inherited a good chunk of change when his grandparents had died. By staying with him, she wasn’t just jeopardizing his safety; she was jeopardizing a future that could be extremely successful for him.
Her chest tightened. Hand shaking, she grabbed the first red she came to, pulled it off the shelf, and headed back up the stairs.
The kitchen was empty when she stepped out of the cellar and closed the door. The vegetables hissed in the pan, but the wok sat on a cold burner, and the stove was turned off. Voices echoed from the front of the house. Voices Eve didn’t recognize but immediately guessed had to belong to Jake Ryder and whatever people he’d brought from Aegis.
Her stomach knotted, and she immediately thought of the failed op in Guatemala. Of Zane’s menacing voice when she’d called to make sure he was still alive. Of the hate she’d heard in his words. Others at Aegis had to hate her too. For over a year they’d believed she was a traitor, just like Zane had.
He doesn’t believe that anymore. He loves you.
That knot in her stomach twisted tighter, and perspiration broke out all along her skin. Hate she knew what to do with, but love . . . ? Love was a foreign emotion she knew she didn’t deserve.
“You look like shit, Archer,” a man’s voice said from the foyer. “I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to kick your ass right now, so I’ll save it for later.”
“Let’s not destroy Kendrick’s house, shall we?” a woman said. “He was nice enough to let us use it. I think the least we can do is make sure it’s still in one piece when we’re done.”
“See what I have to put up with?” the man said. “She’s no fun at all. Where’s Wolfe?”
“Through here,” Zane answered.
Eve stiffened. Seconds later, Zane appeared in the great room, followed by a dark-haired man wearing jeans and a blue button-down, and a woman in black slacks and a pale yellow sweater, with blonde hair tied back in a neat tail and wire-rimmed glasses perched on her small nose.
“Eve,” Zane said, “this is my ex-boss, Jake Ryder, and Marley Addison, his conscience.”
Marley snorted.
Ryder frowned. He crossed the floor and held out his hand to her. “Current boss. Jackass over there never formally submitted his resignation.”
His grip was solid, his eyes a dark brown, almost black, and Eve recognized the edge he held, marking him as former special forces. Eve released his hand. “Archer doesn’t seem to do anything anyone wants him to do.”
The corner of Zane’s lips turned down. He rested his hands on his hips, then looked toward Marley. “I think they’re ganging up on me already.”
Marley chuckled and set the bag she’d had slung over her shoulder on the ground at her feet. “Don’t look at me. He was in a mood all the way out here. I’m not getting in the middle of this one.”
Ryder glanced toward Eve at the stove. “You cooked? Oh man, a chick with a gun who’s not afraid of a
kitchen. Forget about all the terrorist crap and you might be my fantasy woman yet.”
Marley snorted as she pulled a folder out of her bag. “Your idea of the perfect fantasy woman changes every five minutes.”
Ryder shot Marley a perturbed look, and as Eve glanced from face to face, she relaxed, just a touch. While she could definitely feel the tension between the two men, they were both working hard to keep things civil, and Marley was a good buffer. Plus the fact that Zane’s boss—ex or not—had flown all the way out here from Kentucky meant he was committed to helping. And that he cared. Which was a hell of a lot more than she could say for her superiors.
She pushed that thought aside and tucked the hair tickling the side of her face behind her ear. “Sorry. My cooking skills are limited to the microwave, and I’m not even good at that. Zane cooked.”
Ryder’s surprised gaze shot to Zane, then landed on Marley. “He is trying to butter me up.”
Marley lifted her brows. “I warned him ahead of time.” She glanced Zane’s way. “Three double Crowns on the plane helped. But food was a good idea.”
“I get no respect.” Ryder took the bottle of wine from Eve’s hands. “Why don’t I open this? I think we all need more alcohol.”
Zane moved into the kitchen, opened the cupboard door, and reached for a stack of plates. “Rice should be done in a few minutes. Then we can eat.”
Marley stepped toward the dining room table. “Shouldn’t we wait for Miller?”
Eve’s heart skipped a beat, and she froze, for a moment unable to think. “Miller’s coming?”
Marley looked Ryder’s way. “You didn’t tell them.”
He poured wine into four glasses and flashed Marley an annoyed look. “I wasn’t sure we should share that just yet.”
The sound of an engine cutting off echoed from out front. Heart in her throat, Eve bolted for the entry.