Chapter 12

Langley woke slowly, luxuriating in the warmth of the blankets before stretching and opening her eyes. Her contentment disappeared in a heartbeat and she jerked upright, looking around the bedroom, trying to figure out where she was. The furniture, the decor, none of it seemed familiar.

The view of the lake and mountains through the windows brought back yesterday's conversation in a rush. They were at Uncle Bill and Aunt Kate's cabin. Her breath escaped in a whoosh , and as the adrenaline receded, her brain dropped out of fight or flight and back into logical thought. The last thing she remembered clearly was stopping for gas in some small town and Finn getting in the back with her while Ryder had a go at driving .

She took another look around the guest suite and saw a few things she'd missed earlier. For one, her suitcase and carry-on bag were sitting in front of the dresser, perfectly aligned. That precision made her lips curve. Ryder normally would have simply dropped the bags, but he knew what a stickler she was for order.

Second, she was dressed only in her panties and one of Ryder's T-shirts. There was no question who'd done that. She frowned, but he'd been taking care of her, and there was no point in becoming angry over it. And she had asked him to help her out of the bridesmaid dress on Saturday night, so he had every reason to assume she wouldn't have an issue with him putting her to bed on Sunday night, either.

Shaking her head, she picked up on important detail number three—someone had shared the other half of the bed last night. Again, she didn't need to guess who that had been or why. After that shot, Ryder would be sticking to her side pretty closely. The surprise wasn't that he'd slept beside her, the shock was that he wasn't hovering right now.

She tossed back the covers and stood. Immediately, Langley winced. Her feet hurt. Not as badly as they had when they'd left San Diego, but enough so she'd be moving gingerly today. That reminded her of her wrists and she checked them. They remained red, but not as brilliant a shade as they'd been and there was no sign of infection.

Her stomach rumbled, ending her contemplation of her injuries. She hadn't been able to eat when they'd picked up food on their drive north—stress always killed her appetite—but she was starving now. Time to get dressed.

Showered and wearing jeans, her running shoes, and a three-quarter-sleeve, ivory T-shirt with navy stripes, she exited the guest suite and her sense of unfamiliarity continued. Clearly, Aunt Kate and Uncle Bill had redecorated the house completely since her last visit. Either that or her grade-school-age memories of the cabin weren't accurate. With a shrug, she headed for the stairs. As long as she could find the kitchen and some food, it didn't matter.

Langley located it on the first try. Ryder was there, hunkered over his coffee, and damn if his brooding expression didn't make him look even sexier than usual. He'd shaved. Ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat, she headed for the coffee maker and poured a mug.

One sip had her coughing, and Ryder jumped to his feet, striding across the kitchen to where she stood. "Who made this sludge?" she asked, voice hoarse, when she managed to swallow the worst tasting coffee she'd ever had .

The tension left Ryder's shoulders. "I'd guess Griff. He's the only one who makes it strong enough to melt your spoon."

She grabbed the carafe handle. "I hope it doesn't corrode the pipes." She went to the sink, poured the toxic waste down the drain, opened the coffee maker, and ditched the grounds before setting it up to brew a fresh pot. She pressed the button and turned, surprised by how near Ryder was. He must have edged closer while her attention was diverted. Langley shifted, getting more distance between them. "What's for breakfast?"

"If I'm cooking, microwave oatmeal."

"It's morning then?" At Ryder's nod, Langley asked, "Monday?"

"Monday," he confirmed. "You slept about fifteen hours. You're limping. How are your feet?"

"Better—sore but better—thanks."

"Wrists?" Ryder asked, taking her hand and lifting her arm so he could get a closer look. "Definitely not as bad as I thought they'd be when I saw them Saturday night."

He continued to hold her hand and Langley had to convince herself to extricate it. "I think I'll pass on the instant oatmeal, tempting though it might be, and see what else is available."

The refrigerator was full of fresh ingredients that she'd have to do something with if she wanted to eat. She closed the fridge and checked out the pantry. Langley paused inside the doorway and admired the layout. There was a center island, a row of shelves and drawers on her left, and a long counter on her right with several small appliances visible against the backsplash only because the pull-up cabinet doors hadn't been closed. A wine refrigerator with a glass front was tucked next to a sink and a mini fridge was beside that.

Lost in admiration, it took her a moment to realize the pantry was fully stocked as well. When she spotted syrup and bread, an idea occurred to her. Perhaps she'd try French toast. She grabbed the bottle and a loaf and turned.

Ryder blocked the doorway.

"Excuse me," she said.

Of course, he didn't move. Langley sighed. "Will you please stand aside? I'd like to eat."

"Langley, let's talk."

From the tone of his voice, she knew it would be personal, and not about the threat against her. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have, not today. After everything that had happened, she felt vulnerable. "I'm not discussing anything in the pantry," Langley said, keeping her tone pleasant with effort.

"If I let you out of here, I'll end up chasing you around the house, trying to talk with you." Ryder shook his head.

He moved closer and Langley brought the bread up, using the loaf like a shield. If he touched her, she'd melt into him and she didn't want to be that weak. "That's close enough," she warned him.

Ryder stopped, frowned briefly, and said absolutely nothing.

Langley waited. She wanted to prod him, but if she did that, she'd tip her hand about how difficult it was for her to stand this close without reaching out to touch him. There was no chance she'd let him have that information. She waited some more.

About the time she was beginning to wonder if Ryder was simply going to stare at her the entire morning, he said, "I'm sorry."

She expected him to say more, but he didn't. "Sorry for what?"

"Everything."

That definitely was a blanket apology. "Everything? You mean you're sorry someone has threatened me? Sorry someone kidnapped me? Sorry someone shot at me? Sorry we need to hide out?"

"None of that."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, yeah, I'm sorry about those things, but I'm not apologizing for them because I'm not responsible for any of that." Ryder ran his hand over the back of his neck before meeting her eyes and saying with careful deliberation. "I'm sorry about the times I changed the subject when you talked about the Paladin League. I didn't listen, but I should have because it's important to you. I promise not to do that again."

Langley didn't say anything, certain that he hadn't finished speaking.

"Well?" Ryder prompted.

"Well, what?"

"Did you want to tell me something about the Paladin League?"

"At the moment, no. It's not at the forefront of my mind. If that's it…?" She let her voice trail off, hopeful he'd take the hint and move aside, but he didn't. "There's more then?"

"You're not making it easy for me."

A retort was on the tip of her tongue, but Langley swallowed the words. "So sorry," she said instead, careful to keep the sarcasm from her voice. Ryder smiled sheepishly and she suspected that he knew her well enough that he hadn't needed her tone to tip him off.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Langley. I never meant to do that."

Uncertain how to respond, she shrugged.

Ryder shook his head. "Say something. Tell me to go to hell if you want, but don't be polite with me. I fu—freaking hate it when you go distant."

"What am I supposed to say? That it's okay that you hurt me? That it's okay you considered me some kind of convenient sex partner and nothing deeper? Well, guess what? I can't absolve you. I can't say no worries, it was fun." Langley stopped and reined in her emotions. She was close to crying and she wouldn't allow him to see her in tears.

"Convenient?" Ryder sounded as shocked as he looked. "Hellcat, I've never thought of you as a convenience." He took a step forward but stopped when she backed up. Grimacing, he continued. "You got under my skin, wormed your way into my head. Shit, you messed me up in so many ways, I can't name them. All I can think about is you, and when I'm not with you, I feel it physically. Here." He briefly touched a hand over the center of his chest.

Taking a deep breath, one she hoped was unobtrusive, Langley said, "How am I supposed to believe that? You only allow me to get so close, and then you deliberately put distance between us."

He reached out, removed the bread and syrup bottle from her grasp, and placed them on the counter. "Langley," Ryder took both her hands in his. She wanted to pull loose, but that would be too telling. "I'm sorry. It wasn't because you meant too little, it was because you scared the shit out of me, and I was hoping that some space would help. It didn't. You still scare the shit out of me, but I can live with that as long as you're with me."

Langley tried to sort through everything he said. Her brain was spinning, and she was trying to separate what he meant from what she wanted to hear. "Why the change of heart?"

Ryder frowned. "Because I didn't realize what I was doing to you until you broke up with me. Because arriving in California and discovering you'd been kidnapped woke me the hell up. Because someone shot at you and would have killed you if you hadn't tripped."

Langley could see torment in his eyes as he spoke of the sniper. That raw emotion was why she let him tug her against his body and wrap his arms around her. It was why she hugged him in return.

"Give me another chance. I promise I'll do better."

Part of her wanted to hold on to her pride, to tell him no, but doing that would hurt her every bit as much as it hurt him, and it wouldn't fill the emptiness she'd carried in her heart since she'd walked away from him at the airport. She loved him, and as long as Ryder was willing to meet her halfway, she wasn't going to push him away. Leaning back in his embrace, she rested her forearms against his chest. Langley needed to see his eyes. Reassured, she nodded. "Okay, let's try again."

Ryder smiled and drew her closer against his body. "Thank you."

Sliding her arms up his chest and around his neck, Langley melted into him the way she'd wanted from the instant she'd seen him this morning. "I love it when you shave."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she drawled, mimicking his casualness. "You're too good looking to hide that handsome face."

A hint of red appeared on his cheekbones, and instead of replying, he lowered his mouth. His lips brushed over hers, asking rather than taking. Easing back a few inches, Ryder said, "Damn, Langley, I need you."

Without warning, he lifted her and turned. He placed her on the island counter and moved between her thighs. Langley broke the kiss. "Here? What about your team?"

"I'll take care of it." He walked to the pantry door, shut it, and turned the lock on the doorknob. "There," he said, returning to her and settling back between her legs. "Nobody will walk in on us now. "

"A child could pick that lock."

"Nobody's going to interrupt us," he repeated firmly.

Her murmur of agreement was lost beneath his mouth.