CHAPTER FIVE

RYDER

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What is it with this woman?

Savannah Sinclair is one of the most beautiful women in the world, yes. Sexy, with the brightest green eyes I've ever seen. I'm talking, my-cock-is-hard-in-a-millisecond stunning.

She's successful.

At the top of her game.

Adored by millions.

I get it. But everything she does gets a reaction out of me. I feel like I've been on a rollercoaster since the moment we met. I either want to fuck her or kill her.

Or kill someone for touching her.

Then I walked around the corner and heard her speaking to her father. I was two steps away and stopped.

The guy is an asshole.

Like any daughter, she wants his approval and to hear how proud he is. But a guy like him? He'll never give her what she wants. Ever.

I know people.

I've studied them.

One way to ensure you survive in a war zone full of terrorists and psychopaths is understanding how they think. That includes narcissists and every other psychological disorder. The Middle East is full of them.

So is America and the whole damn world.

To one degree or another.

Don't start me on the internet.

Seeing Savannah cry? Nope. That did not work for me at all. If she hadn't hung up on her father, I was seconds away from doing it for her.

See what I mean?

Totally irrational thinking and behaving.

That's not my job and yet I'm still considering doing a deep search for the asshole's home address. It's been a while since I've worn my balaclava and snuck into someone's home to scare them.

Anyway, you didn't hear that from me.

Point is, Savannah is getting under my skin, and I don't like it.

"Well, those hyenas paid for this house and pay my bills, so I love them," she says and opens one of the hundreds of envelopes from her fans.

"Pretty nice house," I say, nodding.

I've just completed a security check around the entire interior, so yeah, it's a stunning property.

Her last team did a decent job installing a good security system. I'll likely get some upgrades done to it, though.

Once she trusts me.

"How long have you been here?" I ask, focusing back on her face.

The fuck?

Something's wrong.

Either her dog died or her boyfriend broke up with her. She doesn't have either.

"Savannah?" I press firmly.

"Huh?" Her head whips up to mine as I take a few steps closer and stop on the other side of the marble kitchen counter.

"What's wrong?"

She looks back down at the note and folds it over.

"Nothing." She shakes her head. "I need to have a shower. Are you done for the night?"

"What was on the note?"

She stares at me. I hold her green gaze and can almost feel the fear rolling off her.

"Show me the note," I order her.

"Jesus, Ryder," she says, waving the white paper at me. "This is what I was talking about. You have no boundaries."

I reach across and snatch it out of her hand.

"Hey!" Savannah comes running around the counter as I hold it over my head and open it.

What the fuck?

She jumps in the air and tries to grab it, but I hold her off, hand firmly on her shoulder.

"Is this the first one you've received?" I demand, taking in the crude message.

"Give it back!" She slaps my arm. Uselessly, I might add.

"Answer me." I growl and toss it on the counter. Then I grab her by both shoulders and get in her face.

She's pale and scared.

She should be.

"Is. This. The. First. Threat?" I growl.

She nods, her eyes filling and fucking hell if she cries again, I am resigning.

"It's probably not real," she whispers.

Jesus Christ.

"Well, maybe your security team could decide," I growl. "What were you going to do? Put it under your pillow and hope it magically disappears when you wake up?"

"Don't be a dick," she snaps.

"I'm trying to keep you safe. But I'm in fucking training, so what do I know?" I release her and head over to the box. "This the envelope?" I hold up the white envelope.

Savannah nods.

I rustle through them and find a dozen or more in the same paper and style.

Great. It could be anyone.

"Ryder," she says, and I close my eyes momentarily hearing my name on her lips so softly.

I turn.

"I meant what I said. Thank you for your service. I appreciate what you've done for our country."

I shake my head.

"You have no idea the shit I've done," I growl, continuing my search through the box.

I don't know why I'm so angry with her. The fact she was going to fucking hide this from me has triggered me.

I've lost one female under my protection.

It isn't fucking happening again.

"Go have your shower. I'll see if there are any more, then take them back to the Black Hawke Security office to be analyzed."

"Should we tell the police?" She wraps her arms around herself.

"Maybe. For now, we should keep this out of the press." I point to the doorway. "Go. I'll lock up behind me."

I need her to leave before I fucking wrap her in bubble wrap and lock her up.

Not again.

Not fucking again.

––––––––

I PUSH DIAL on my steering wheel.

"What? I'm on my honeymoon," Josh says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

"Aidan isn't answering. Savannah Sinclair has just received a threat." I grunt.

He curses. "Tell me."

I glance at the envelopes sitting in a plastic bag on my passenger seat. On the white card, in capital letters, it simply said:

STOP FUCKING NICK MARCIANO OR I'LL EXPOSE YOU

Josh is silent as I update him.

"Is she?" he then asks.

"Not as far as I can tell. I'm confident she's not."

"But they're actors," Josh says.

"Sure. But they're also pretending they're fucking. Or at least teasing the media," I grunt.

"Could be a crazy fan," he says. "Get it tested and if we lift any prints, we can go from there."

Standard procedure for our team.

Which is why I'm on my way there now.

"Is this the first one she's received?" he asks.

"Yes," I say, turning my SUV into the Black Hawke Security, or BHS as we call it, parking garage. I switch off the engine and jump out, then head to the elevators and punch the button.

"Keep me updated. I'll be home in a week, but you have the resources of the whole team. Tara might be able to get prints, otherwise we'll send it out for DNA," Josh says, referring to our new lab manager.

While the BHS lab is much simpler than what the police have access to, we have contacts at the local university who can do us favors if we throw enough cash their way.

And we do.

DNA matching can take months, but the university lab can do Rapid DNA in a few hours. It's not admissible in court, but I'm not a lawyer, so...

If I have a name, I'll do what needs to be done to protect Savannah.

Even if she is a pain in my ass.

"Enjoy Hawaii." I hang up.

Cassy, his bride, won't be happy I called, but she knows what he's like. He was her private security when a convict who'd stalked her for years escaped from prison. We caught him, but not before the fucker took her.

No one was surprised when Josh proposed and married her quickly. He's very protective of the rock star's daughter.

The doors open and I step into the BHS offices.

Penny, our office manager, has already left for the day. No wonder, given it's already after seven. I can hear a few keyboards clicking and noise from the gym, so there are a few people still around, including the tech team on the late shift.

"Hey, gorgeous," I say to Tara as I walk into the lab. "You still here?"

"No. I am a figment of your imagination. And, by the way, immune to your charms." Tara rolls her eyes at me.

Liar.

She isn't.

Tara is your typical scientist. Doesn't dress sexy compared to someone like, say, Savannah, but it's obvious she's hiding a hot figure under her lab coat.

She started a month ago and everyone is under strict instruction from Josh to not date the lab tech.

Tara is pretty and I'm not blind, but there's no spark between us. Unlike my sexy as hell client, who I can't stop thinking of.

In the last five minutes I've imagined Savannah climbing into bed naked and wonder if her legs are spread and her hand between them. If she's thinking of me while sliding her fingers inside her wet creamy pussy.

Ryder, you dick, she's more likely worried about having a threat just mailed to her.

Or I could be right.

I'm right about the way her eyes roam over my muscular body and dip to my cock. More than once. More than fucking five times today.

And hell, if that doesn't constantly wake up what I'm trying to control.

I need to focus. I need Tara's help, and while she might be immune to my charms, we love a good banter together.

The others just grunt and try to avoid her.

Josh can be a scary motherfucker.

But he lost some credibility when we learned he was sleeping with Cassy Cartwright. Something I, for one, will never let him live down, even if he has married her.

Never miss an opportunity, I say.

"You wound me, sweetheart!" I clutch my chest and Tara chuckles.

"What are you working on?" I walk closer, turning serious.

"Pulling some fingerprints from that break-in last week." She looks up from her sample. "Dante Russo."

Dante is a significant businessman we provide security for. He had his office broken into. An inside job. We should be able to wrap that one up easily enough.

And when I say he's significant, I mean he lives on the edge of the law, so it's unlikely we'll be calling in the cops on this one.

"Okay, but I need you to look at this tonight for me. Or first thing in the morning." I hold up the plastic bag with the card and envelope inside.

She pulls off her disposable gloves, tosses them in the trash, then pulls on a new pair as she walks over. Then takes the bag from me and holds it up to eye level.

"These stalkers are not creative writers, are they?"

I snort.

"Try harder, stalkers." She shoots me a grin and wanders back over to all her fancy equipment.

I don't know what it cost to set this up, but it would have been substantial.

"But yes, Ryder, I will help you. Leave it with me and I'll call you tomorrow."

"Think we can get some DNA?" I ask.

She glances up again. "You know the answer to that. If there's something here, I'll find it. If not, you'll need to get the research team to do some digging to find out where the card and envelope could've come from. Looks stock standard to me, unfortunately."

I did know all of that.

"Thanks, gorgeous." I turn to leave.

"Stop trying to be charming." She scoffs.

"Never," I say over my back, and open the door. Then I step back out into the hallway and nearly collide with Aidan.

"Hey." I stop.

"What's up?" He uses a towel to wipe his forehead. He's in a pair of shorts and t-shirt. His tattoo down the side of his thigh on full display.

"Good work out?" I ask, then we both start walking toward his office.

"The usual," he says, tossing the towel onto his gym bag. Then he rips off his t-shirt and I get an eyeball full of his six-pack and all the rest of his tattoos.

"Sorry, I'm taken." I smirk, leaning on the doorjamb.

"No, you're not. Who would put up with your annoying ass?" Aidan shoots me a grin.

"Not Ms. Sinclair, I can tell you that." I shake my head.

"She a diva?" he asks, pulling on a fresh singlet top.

I want to say yes, but the truth is, I don't think she is. I hurt her ego by ignoring her at the wedding and then showing up this morning. So, her comments throughout the day were just a dig to gain some of her pride back.

I let her have it and never expected an apology.

Hearing her on the phone with her father completely stripped away any remaining judgment.

"Nah. She's beautiful and a good person. Fuck it." I let out a laugh. "I can't stay on this job, Aidan."

He sips from his water bottle and watches me. "Why not?"

"Because I'm a red-blooded man, is why not. Plus, there's shit I can't—"

"You're a highly trained operator, Ryder. Jesus, probably more so than Josh and me. Don't give me that bullshit," he says and takes another sip.

Fuck.

I push away from the doorjamb.

I wasn't happy with the client choice to start with, but now I know I need to step away. The situation has changed.

She is in danger.

Of course, I'm highly fucking trained.

But I'm also the wrong person and I'm not explaining why. I can't. As a US Marine, Aidan will read between the lines.

"When I started, I told Josh no women." I cross my arms and look him dead in the eye. "Savannah received a threat in the mail tonight. I gave it to Tara for forensic testing."

"Shit." He curses and runs a hand over his face.

"We need to move me off this job," I tell him, then drop my arms. "You need someone else doing this, Aidan. I'm not the right person."

I turn and walk out.