Page 21 of Wicked Obsession

Ryder put the phone away and said, “Rio—that’s the detective—will be over tonight to talk to you.”

“Tonight?” She kept her tone level, but it took effort. There went any chance of convincing Ryder to take her to the gym and it meant she’d have to delay her shower as well.

“I tried to convince him to come in the morning instead, but he was insistent.” Ryder took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. “The kidnapper died.”

Her grip tightened around his, an involuntary gesture she couldn’t stop. “What happened?”

Ryder shook his head. “I don’t know. The cop wouldn’t tell me and I was with you, remember?”

The urge to say something sarcastic was strong, but Langley subdued it. Adrenaline was looking for an outlet and she wasn’t going to allow it to start an argument. Leaning back in the seat, she stared straight ahead. She should pull her hand free, but couldn’t make herself do it. Ryder’s palm was warm against hers and she needed his touch too much to deprive herself of it. That wasweak. Only for a few minutes, she promised herself.

The first time he’d held her hand had been in Puerto Jardin and there’d been nothing romantic or comforting about it. Ryder had admitted that he wanted to make sure she didn’t hit him and run off again. Even so, there’d been something about the feeling of palm against palm that had left her breathless and looking at him as a man.

That tingling feeling that developed had been why she’d given him her mobile number when he’d asked. It had been why she’d said yes a couple of weeks later when he’d called and asked her out.

He’d arrived in the lobby of her condo with his hair cut shorter than regulation. Her lips curved. It had been cute—he’d wanted to impress upon her that he was a soldier and not a mercenary. And after dinner that night, as they’d walked back to his car, their hands had brushed, and it had been natural for their fingers to link. Just as they were now.

Tears began to build and Langley impatiently blinked them away. She’d cried over him enough already, and yet, Langley was afraid she’d never be able to shed enough tears to wash him from her heart.

Chapter 9

Ryder locked the door behind the cops and released a long, silent sigh. They were free to leave town, although Rio had been skeptical about their story. Who could blame him? If the SEALs hadn’t gone in first, if Langley hadn’t gotten herself out of the house, they’d be answering a lot more questions than they’d faced tonight. What had him pissed off, though, was the man had been an asshole with Langley. For fuck’s sake, she’d been a damn victim and instead of treating her gently, he’d been flat, cold, and as suspicious of her as he was with Ryder and his team.

The team deserved it. His hellcat hadn’t.

He turned, almost walked into the couch, and grimaced. Mac’s house was small—two bedrooms, two baths, around 1100 square feet. Or less. It feltsmaller than that because of the oversized, brown-leather sectional, the bar-height dining table on one side of the living room, and the fact that the home had been built before open concept had become the norm. On the plus side, it was set back from the street and the house itself was secure.

The subdivision was another story. It butted up against some foothills that offered too much concealment for Ryder’s peace of mind and the front of the house faced those hills. He didn’t care that they were a good distance away; it made him uneasy. It was one night, he reminded himself. They were out of here first thing in the morning.

It sank in slowly that his buddies were standing, staring at him, arms crossed over their chests. “What?”

“You better check on Langley,” Griff said.

Ryder’s heart began to beat faster. “Why? Are her injuries worse than you told me?”

Griff shook his head, but it was Rowland who answered. “The shower hasn’t come on and she excused herself before Rio started questioning us.”

“Maybe she fell asleep.”

“Maybe,” Mako said, “but she showed signs of someone who isn’t going to wind down for a long time after that adrenaline spike.”

“She was damn insistent about showering right away,” Griff added.

That was true. She’d asked him to bring her bags into the master bedroom, and when the detective had finished asking her about what had happened, she’d hobbled off to clean up. Ryder hesitated. Langley had been full-on ambassador’s daughter while dealing with Rio—that had been brought on by his attitude—but it signaled she had her self-command back. The woman who’d held onto his hand in the SUV was likely gone and the woman who’d broken up with him there in her place. She wasn’t going to want him to check on her.

“Ski,” Stony said, “if you don’t go and make sure she’s okay, we will.”

None of them knew her well enough to read her. They’d never figure out whether or not she was all right. “I’m going.”

He made no effort to quiet the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor as he walked down the hall to the bedroom. After the day she’d had, the last thing Ryder wanted to do was startle her. When he reached the door, he tapped lightly. “Langley, is everything okay?”

“Fine.”

“Are you dressed?”

“I’m fine.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.” Her lack of response had him slowly opening the door. She sat at the foot of the bed, wearing her bridesmaiddress, and her face was pinched. The expression immediately smoothed away, but he only needed that split second to know something was wrong. Ryder went into the room and closed the door behind him. “Wanna lie again and tell me you’re fine?”

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