Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(25)

He studied her with no expression on his rugged face. “You need cover until we double-check your car and see why the brakes stopped working. Either you stay here or I spend tomorrow at your office. Your choice.”

That didn’t sound like much of a choice, now, did it? Yet curiosity, the burning kind, had her looking around the apartment again. He intrigued her in a way she couldn’t understand. “Who lives behind the other blue doors?”

“Stay here, and you’ll meet my brothers.” His cajoling tone nearly made her smile.

As a carrot, it was dangled perfectly. The D and H. . .Denver and Heath. She hated—oh, she hated—the fact that she wanted to know more about him. What kind of men were his brothers? Were they like him, full of secrets and sexiness? She frowned. “You always seemed like such a lone wolf.” Sure, she’d figured he had other people on the payroll or people he contracted with for help but not family. “You trust them?”

“Yes. They’re my brothers.” His eyes darkened. “I trust Denver, Heath, and now. . .you.”

He’d just included her in his family. She took a step back as hope dared to flare in her. “This is happening too fast.”

“We’ve been dating for months.”

Her eyes rolled of their own accord. “You can’t call what we’ve been doing dating. We’ve never been out together. Not really.”

“You want to go out to dinner?” One of his dark eyebrows rose.

“No,” she breathed, her legs twitching with the urge to run. She had to get away from him and think. Definitely think. Sure, she’d had fantasies about him staying, but the reality was freaking her out. He kept too many secrets. The darkness in his eyes that he thought she couldn’t see . . . Oh, she did more than see it. Sometimes she could feel it.

She’d been on the run before, when her mother had dated a convict, and she knew—she just fucking knew—he was running from something or someone. This apartment, this building, was just a temporary stop. Part of her believed he was different from the jerks her mother had dated, but what if her instincts were just as bad as her mother’s had been? What if she allowed herself to get all caught up in one man? That led to disaster. “Ryker, we need to take a step back.” Why was it so hard to breathe all of a sudden?

His head lifted while his eyelids half lowered.

She shivered.

“I know the right thing to say, and I know the right thing to do,” he said slowly, his voice gritty.

“Which is?” she breathed out.

“To nod and take you home, telling you to let me know if you want my help.” His head cocked, just a millimeter, to the side. Tension rolled from him, taking over the atmosphere with the sense of maleness.

She swallowed, and a heated tornado of air, one borne of instinct, whirled through her chest. “Exactly.”

“But I’m not going to do that.” Determination hardened his already implacable face.

She reared back. “You’re not.”

“No.” One of his muscled shoulders lifted. His angled jaw tightened. “The right thing be damned.”

She started to shake her head and stopped when he took a step toward her. The breath whooshed out of her lungs.

“You showed me you, Zara. Whether you meant to or not.” Another step, and the heat from his body washed over her. “When you cooked me meals and cried on my shoulder. You’re sweet and you’re kind. . .and I’m neither of those things. I’ll protect you now whether you like it or not.”

The anxiety slid right into temper. “The hell you will.”

“Think you can stop me?” he asked softly.

Her head jerked. His behavior was unacceptable and totally not the norm for a modern man. . .and U.S. law. The more emotional she became, the calmer he became, which provided a warning. . .one she couldn’t quite decipher but instinctively knew to heed. Yet damn if it didn’t intrigue her as well. “You can’t just do whatever you want.”

“I gave up on doing the right thing years ago, baby. It’s too late, and even if it weren’t, I don’t give a shit.”

There was the part of Ryker she’d always sensed beneath the surface: an immovable rock of sheer stubbornness, of something not quite tame. And his earlier question had been a good one. Could she stop him? “You’re forgetting a couple of things here.” To her shock, her voice remained steady.

“Which are?” The street showed in his eyes, was stamped hard on his face.

“One, I’m not in any danger. The car was old. Two, I could stop you.” Her voice rose, and she tried to tamp it down, to meet him on even terms. But she knew he had an edge she’d never seen and didn’t have.

He smiled then. “We’ll see about the brakes, but that bruise on your face? Yeah, that’s danger. Two, how are you going to stop me?”

How indeed? Her mind spun for answers. “This is kidnapping. If you follow me, that’s stalking and harassment. Don’t think for a second I won’t turn your ass in.” Yeah. She’d use the law.

“You even think of turning my ass in and I’ll turn yours a bright red.”

She gasped. Oh, she’d been bluffing, but something told her he wasn’t. Heat flared through her chest. “I’m not liking you very much right now,” she hissed, feeling both trapped and traitorously interested in this new side of him.