CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RYDER

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I slide my sunglasses over my eyes as I exit the limo and wait for Savannah to climb out. Then follow her to the private jet waiting to take us to New York.

She looks stunning in a navy dress which hugs her every curve, with her long dark hair twisted down her back. Her lips have a peach tint to them which I'm trying to ignore and today her lashes are thick and dark.

Still a seductress.

She's also nervous. I can tell because she hasn't once asked me to kiss her today.

One kiss. I'll never ask again.

Pretty little liar.

I expected her to ask me when I arrived at her house this morning. When she didn't, I wanted to kick my own ass.

It's better if she doesn't...but I wanted her to.

I write the reaction off to a lack of sleep. I lay awake for hours thinking about how I fucked my client on a damn washing machine and what that says about me.

Not the sexual act—that was hot as fuck—but Josh is one of my closest friends. I've breached our employment contract, and while I might not have cared in the moment or even for a few hours after, it's starting to weigh on my mind.

That he slept with Cassy is different.

It's his company, and she ended up being his wife.

That's not going to happen here. The lust between Savannah and me is pure chemistry. Raw, hot, and dark.

It's fucking amazing.

I could become addicted to this desire and to fucking her all night.

I think she could too.

Except where I would want to possess her, she'd soon lose interest. Savannah has millions of men all around the world desiring her.

Just to be clear, I'm not insecure. I'm extremely confident in my capacity to pleasure her or any woman. But I know enough about the opposite sex to know it's never just physical.

She has the world at her fingertips right now. Powerful and interesting people will tempt her, and the public won't accept her settling for someone like me.

Not that I'm looking to settle down. But I'm also not looking for a lover I have to hide. I don't share. If I am with someone, you bet the world knows she's mine.

I'm possessive and make no apologies for it.

There's been only one woman of importance in my past. Our careers came between us after five years together. Delta team demanded too much secrecy and the need to disappear at any moment. Then Suzie was promoted at the hospital she worked in as a doctor. We were like ships in the night for the last twelve months of our relationship. So I moved out, and we parted amicably.

It was only when I returned from the mission that changed me that I ended up in Suzie's arms and bed one last time.

She doesn't know the details. I couldn't tell her and didn't want to relive it.

I needed to not think.

Not remember.

But I do remember and yet again, I'm aware that it would be best if someone else was walking onto this plane with Savannah.

Yet here I am.

I rang Aidan this morning and told him to keep Marshall on his client and that I'd continue.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yup. Given the circumstances and that I'm up on the details now, it's just easier."

"Easier for who? I may not know what your trigger is, but I know you, Ryder. You don't walk away from a responsibility, so whatever happened in the past, if it's going to put her at risk, you need to reconsider."

"It won't," I said firmly.

"What changed your mind?"

She did.

"As I said, whoever's threatening her has acted twice that we know of and it's likely to be someone close to her. These cases can be complicated. I've already become familiar with a lot of people in her world, so because this is both a protective and investigative job, I think it's more productive if I stay on it."

Bullshit.

I've been with her for three days. Aidan's silence tells me he's thinking the same thing.

"Fine. We'll catch up on Monday when Josh is back and reassess."

"Roger that," I replied.

The entire drive to Savannah's house, my jaw had been clenched imagining never seeing her again if I stepped away from the job.

It got me so wound up I had to snap myself out of it.

So yeah, when I walked into the house I wanted her to ask me to kiss her and I was going to deliver.

But she didn't.

And I'm becoming more pissed with every tick of the clock. Pissed with myself for wanting to feel her lips on mine. Pissed that I want to see her mouth gasping my name as I fill her with my needy cock.

Pissed that I have got invested in a woman who is in danger...again.

Albeit differently than the first time.

Do I have PTSD from that moment in Iraq? Fuck yes, I do. Seeing a woman and her child that I was responsible for protecting explode into a million pieces of flesh and blood.

Because I failed.

I will never get over that.

Hence messaging Savannah's guards twice last night to check there were no concerns. Despite them updating the app and that I could log in and watch the cameras from my mobile phone.

In total, I had three hours sleep.

By six I was chugging down coffee. I don't drink a lot of it, but this morning I had three cups. So I was tired and wired, expecting her sass and a demand to kiss her.

Nothing.

I want to tell her I took my cock in hand a dozen times last night and stroked, remembering how sweet and tight her pussy was. That I wish I could kiss her, but it would take us down a path I don't know I can risk.

That if I made her mine emotionally, I would never let her go.

But I won't.

Because I don't want to see the look in her eyes when she can't tell me that I'm not the kind of man she wants.

So I don't.

Instead, I watch her cute, tight ass walk up the stairs to the aircraft—as her bodyguard. Not as the man who can lay his hand on her flesh and guide her to her seat.

On his lap.

Possessively.

If she were mine, I'd tell anyone who even thinks of getting past me to hurt her. They are fucking dreaming. That I would kill them because they got within a few feet.

I will anyway.

Whoever is tormenting her, I will find out and stop them. That I can do for her.

Then I need to walk away and let Marshall take over. I'm not going to fail another woman, especially not Savannah.

But I can't stay on this job long term and torment myself.

Savannah sits on one of the white leather seats and removes her sunglasses, placing her handbag on the seat beside her. Briar leans down and says something to her. Savannah nods. Then Briar, Gina, and the team all find seats on the craft as if this is just another day in the office for them, and I suppose it is.

I study them all as I put my bag down.

Nothing stands out, so I sit across the aisle from Savannah, facing in her direction. Her eyes find mine for a moment, but a flight attendant steps between us.

"Would you like a drink before takeoff, Ms. Sinclair?"

"Mineral water and a green tea, please," she says softly.

"Of course. Lunch will be served an hour after we are in the air." The flight attendant smiles, then another crew member comes around with bottles of water for the rest of us.

Her eyes find mine again as I chug down half the bottle.

"You can order a coffee if you want." Her voice is quiet. Everyone around us is getting settled and not paying attention.

"Not my first time on a private jet." I wink at her. "I know the drill."

She nods and reaches into her bag to pull out a small cardigan.

I narrow my eyes.

Something isn't right.

She's not her bouncy self this morning.

Fuck this.

I stand and move over the aisle to sit directly across from her.

"What's wrong?" The aircraft begins to move, and her eyes shoot outside. I lean forward. "Are you a nervous flier?"

Savannah nods.

That I can do something about. I move once more to sit beside her, her eyes following mine. I smile down at her and place my hand on the armrest next to hers.

"Just don't damage any nerves." My lips quirk.

"I'm fin—"

The craft picks up speed on the runway and the tail begins to wobble. Her hand grabs mine and Jesus fucking Christ, no one should ever call women weak. Those nails of hers almost draw blood.

It's almost ten minutes after we're in the air when the craft has leveled out that she relaxes.

"I suppose you think I'm stupid. You've probably jumped out of airplanes."

"A few times." I smirk. "I don't recommend it in that outfit, though."

She chuckles but her eyes find mine and I see concern in them, which is sweet as hell. "Did you ever get scared?"

Her question floors me.

I'm thirty-three. No one has ever asked me that. Not my mom, certainly not my dad, and not even Suzie.

"Ah..." I glance out the window as my entire military career flashes before my eyes.

The training in the army, rising in the ranks, watching my first person die. Shooting a human for the first time.

Killing for the first time.

Two different things.

Seeing humanity at its worst and coming to grips with what that meant about me.

Being invited to join the Delta team, also known as the Combat Applications Group (CAG), Task Force Green, or simply "the Unit," and almost killing myself during the training to qualify.

Then understanding that the team doesn't officially exist despite reporting directly to the Joint Special Operations Command.

The tasks we did were so off book there's no record. We existed on the fringes of government, undertaking tasks for the FBI, CIA, and army—hell even the president—but officially there is no such thing as Delta.

The United States government denies any knowledge of it, which makes your resume a little empty.

But was I scared?

Without realizing I'm doing it, I lift her hand and run my thumb over her knuckles.

"If you're not scared, you're dead, Savannah," I reply darkly.

"I'm glad you're not dead." She smiles at me.

"Yeah, me too." I wink.

I look past us and Luis, the assistant hair stylist, is watching our hands.

Shit.

I drop it and pat her hand.

"I need to catch some zees before we land," I say, leaning my head back against the headrest and reclining the seat. Then close my eyes.

"Me too. I barely slept." She rustles through her handbag as I open one eye, watching her. Then she grabs a blanket and places it over me, and my fucking heart does this little flip thing.

Goddamn her.

Next thing I know, she reclines her seat and rolls onto her side watching me.

"Savannah," I warn, lifting my eyes around the aircraft.

"I don't care. Just let me not care for a minute." She closes her eyes.

Fuck.

But the sound of her breathing and her warmth nearby lulls me into a deep sleep for the entire flight. It's only when we start to descend that I wake.

I stretch and glance around at the team, studying them further. Savannah is on the phone walking back from the back of the plane, and I watch Gina watching her friend.

I'm a guy, but that is not the look I'd expect from my BFF.

I frown.

She's climbing up my list, but I'm not sure what her motive is, if she's capable, or is just a jealous friend.

We finally land in New York and Briar directs everyone on the plans for the next few hours while we wait for the doors to be opened. Then we debark and load into the waiting cars below.

I jump into the SUV with Savannah, Briar, and Gina, then we head toward Manhattan.