Page 73 of Royal Agenda

He cupped her cheek and turned her head, taking control of the kiss. His was like the ocean, wild and with a rhythm all its own. All she could do was hold on while he carried her away.

When they were both spent, he brushed his fingers over the welt once more. “I will not put you in danger.” He stood up, cradling her in his arms, and moved to the door.

A feeling that things were very, very wrong seized her chest, making it difficult to breathe. He set her on her feet and motioned to Sean. “Please, ensure she makes it home safely.”

Before she could process what was happening, he stepped into the office and shut the door.

Sean gave her an apologetic smile.

She turned from him and pounded on the wood. “I HATE shut doors!!” she yelled.

Sean touched her arm.

Feeling the whole rejection—she’d poured her heart out and laid herself bare in front of Ryker, and he’d pushed her away—she slumped against the door. “I can’t leave,” she whispered. “I can’t make myself leave.” The action was physically impossible. Grandma Nancy would hold her head high and waltz out of here, but Grace didn’t have that inside of her. She followed her heart and it brought her here. If she walked out now, she’d be leaving it with Ryker.

“I’ve got this,” Mack moved Sean out of the way and lifted Grace into his arms. His solemn exterior matched how she felt inside, and she leaned into him. He put her in Sean’s car and drove her to Grandma’s bungalow.

It was still early enough that the only movement was the landscape company trimming hedges. He walked her to the door, silent. Her tears were noisy enough to wake the dead. How a man so big could move with such stealth was a mystery to her. She reached for the knob and he dropped a hand on her shoulder. “Be strong, wee one.”

“Take care of him,” she asked.

“It’s my job.” He straightened. “And he’s my friend.” He left like a shadow at dawn.

Grace stumbled in and landed on the couch, burying her face in a pillow. The image of Ryker’s face on a plate flashed in her mind and she laughed through her tears. “It’s not funny,” she said out loud.

Then she sent an email offering to buy the whole set from her friend.

Thirty

Ryker paced the salvage company’s office. Last night–this morning–time ran together when he was in a cloud of despair.

The empty gas canister sat on Sean’s desk next to the treasure map. Lena said it had been filled with fluothane, a sleep gas. Had Sean not acted quickly, they may have all dozed off—not to wake up again because there was enough inside to put an elephant to sleep–or kill a room full of men.

Their plan had been to gas the guys and walk out with Ryker. If that didn’t work, and the guys got out, they were going to corner him alone, which they did. Which did not turn out well for them.

He grimaced at the memory of the welt on Grace’s cheek. It was the only visible wound she’d sustained in her fight with Lena. How many more did she have that he did not know about? He hated himself for not protecting her.

“You look like crap,” said Sean as he came in carrying two boxes of pizza.

“It is eight a.m.” Ryker ran his hand through his hair. He had slept for one hour on the spring-ridden couch. The SEALs had split up, each one scoping out their own apartments and places of employment. Lena was woefully inadequate as a bounty hunter, but she had gotten past their perimeter, and they weren’t taking any chances.

So far, they’d taken two more bounty hunters into custody. They were in transport to the base. Prosecuting them through the courts would be tricky, considering they’d tried to kill a man who was already dead. The SEAL’s commanding officer thought they may just stay in custody for a bit—giving the SEALs time to move out of Diamond Cove.

The man with Lena turned out to be her little brother. Little was a relative term as he was twice her size. She thought his might would be enough to bring them success—and with lesser men, it may have worked. Not with Ryker and certainly not with the SEALs.

Liam had gone into his cyber cave to root out what was really going on and why Ryker Rockefeller was a target. He was not chipper when he did not sleep and he grumbled something about commemorative plates screwing everything up as he left.

Sean dropped the boxes on the coffee table. In the scuffle last night, one of the legs had broken off. Mack had glued it back together and clamped it in place.

“Thought you could use a taste of home.” Sean opened the box and waved the scent of pineapple and ham toward him.

“We do not have Hawaiian pizzas in Isola de la Famiglia.” He sat up and took a piece anyway, his stomach growling. “But I accept your offering.” He took a bite. It tasted like disappointment and heartbreak.

“Don’t act so grateful,” Sean quipped as he took two pieces to make his sandwich. He sat down on the chair opposite Ryker and glanced at Ryker’s face. “If it’s that bad, don’t eat it.”

“I must eat to maintain life even if my world is dark and lonely.”

“Oh, jeez.” Sean threw his crust into the garbage can.

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