She let out a soft laugh. “A little.”
He stood and walked to the window, looking out over the moonless night, wondering what he was doing in here with Angie when he should be outside.
Or maybe he just felt the need to escape, to gather some distance between them, before he did something really stupid, like try to comfort her. “I’d better get outside and patrol.” He turned back to her. “Look. We’ll find your sister and when we do, you’ll discover that she’s just fine. Quit worrying.”
“I’ll try.”
He slipped out the back door and shut it, filling his lungs with a deep breath of humid night air. The choking sweet smell of gardenias was making him sick, so he moved away from the house, keeping his focus on the surrounding terrain, searching for the signs of anything suspicious.
The night was dead quiet. Not even a ruffle of wind to shatter the silence.
It wasn’t quiet in his head, though. He took a quick glance to the house, spotting Angie through the kitchen window. She was doing dishes, a frown of deep concentration lining her forehead.
He hadn’t given her the answers she’d needed. Not that he’d had them, but he knew he’d walked out on her in the middle of a really important conversation. One she’d wanted to delve deeper into.
One he couldn’t handle. Because she’d started talking about bloodline, and darkness.
And that was a little too close to home for him. His own potential for violence, where it had come from, was a topic he didn’t discuss.
The strange thing was, he’d wanted to. Tonight, with Angie, as soon as she’d expressed concerns about Isabelle, he’d wanted to tell her about his own dark side.
Wouldn’t she have loved to hear some of those stories?
He shook his head. She’d wanted tenderness and understanding, not someone who would tell her that her sister probably was evil, that sometimes you couldn’t hide the darkness inside yourself.
Some were successful, some weren’t.
And some walked a tightrope, striking a careful balance, knowing that at any second they could fall.
Ryder walked the tightrope every damn day. He couldn’t offer Angie any sympathy because it wasn’t in his nature to give it. Maybe he really was just like his dad.
The light went out in the kitchen. He turned away from the window and stared out into the night, letting the darkness envelop him, breathing out a sigh when he heard her footsteps approaching.
“Go inside, Angie.”
She sat next to him, her thigh brushing his. “We almost got somewhere tonight. You pulled back.”
“We didn’t get anywhere. I can’t give you what you need.”
“Because you don’t trust me.”
“Partly.”
“Because you think I don’t trust you?”
He turned to her. “What?”
“I revealed something to you tonight. A fear about my sister. Doesn’t that speak of trust?”
He was glad it was dark. The way she looked at him. . he could get so lost in her eyes. He didn’t want to. It made him feel weak and out of control.
“I’d trust you more if you told me where the black diamond was.” Keep it about business. That, he could control.
“I do trust you. As much as I can trust anyone. But my sister’s life is at stake here.”
“Then prove it.” This could be over quickly if she’d just tell him where the black diamond was.
“Ryder.” She leaned in, her breasts pressing against his arm, shocking the hell out of him by nearly climbing into his lap as her lips found his.
Maybe it was surprise that kept him immobile. He should have moved away. But hell, she offered. He took. Her mouth was spicy, hot and inviting. And he wanted in.
With a groan, he dragged her onto his lap and she tangled her fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss. He liked that, liked feeling her touch on him. Her body was soft against everything that was hard about him. And everything about him was damn hard right now. Instant rushes of heat and raw, steely power ignited a fuse that had laid dormant too long. One touch of her lips and he was on fire.
The part of him that knew this was a really bad idea disappeared, vanishing along with his reserves about keeping a professional distance. All he could think about now was getting her naked, touching the silk of her body, tasting her all over. Sinking into her and forgetting the darkness around them both.
Her lips were full, her tongue moist and searching as she entered his mouth, licking against his. She wanted more, and he wanted to give it to her.
But he also remembered trust. And darkness. And violence. And what could happen when you loved someone.
He grasped her arms and with a gentle tug, pushed her away.
She tilted her head, her eyes glazed with passion. A quick glance down her body showed tight, pointed nipples against her thin shirt. He wanted to touch, to taste, to take her over and over again.
Possession. He could feel it boiling up inside him, that overwhelming need to brand her and make her his. The
