Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(56)

He was being so open she couldn’t stop her thoughts from rolling out. “You scare me, Ryker.”

He lifted an eyebrow and gentled his touch. His head jerked like he’d been punched. “I’d never hurt you.”

“You’d never mean to hurt me,” she murmured. “But you’re all or nothing. Pure trust or none at all. Full dependence or none.” The words rolled from her tongue. Did he understand that kind of pressure? What if she let him down? He’d been let down too much in life already, she suspected. What if she screwed up and he reacted by leaving? Her heart hurt just thinking about it.

He rubbed his chin and turned his full focus on her.

She swallowed.

“I don’t see you being anything but independent, darlin’.”

The drawl. Every once in a while, he drawled a sentence in a deeper tone that shot right through her like fine whiskey. “You want everything,” she countered, trying to make sense of the rioting feelings inside her.

He grinned then, his eyes remaining sober. “I’ll get it, too.”

She opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Another topic. She had to get away from the charged conversation and think away from him. Her thoughts and emotions were just too damn jumbled at the moment. “Um, okay. Let’s concentrate on the immediate situation. Greg. What are we going to do with him?”

Amusement—that had to be amusement—creased Ryker’s cheek as he let her off the hook. “While I think Greg is safe for you, I’m not sure if the kid has enemies. If anybody comes to light, I’m moving him to my apartment, and I’ll cover you. Heath and Denver can watch over Greg if necessary.”

She reached out and cupped his whiskered jaw, warming to the safer topic. Yet she had to know more about him. “Why did you become a private investigator?”

He moved to her other foot, somehow relaxing her entire body. “The three of us need to find people. Heath wants to find the man who killed his mama, Denver wants to know about where he came from, and I want to find my birth parents. We figured that opening up a detective agency was the way to go.”

“Have you had any luck?” she asked, her heart jumping at finally learning the truth.

“No. Not even a little.” Ryker sat back, her foot on his thighs. “We discovered on the way that we have a talent for finding lost people, so we’ve stuck with it. Once in a while we’re too late.” His voice sobered.

Ah. The girls murdered by the serial killer. Ryker was a guy who’d be haunted forever by that. “I’m sorry, Ryker. Are there any leads on the serial killer case?” she whispered.

“No. Heath is monitoring the FBI, and we’re trying to figure out a plan, but right now we have a lot going on.” He stopped talking and shoved back to stand up. “I need a shower, and then we’ll grab some shut-eye.” Within a second, he’d disappeared into the master bath.

Zara watched him go and pressed her hands on her knees, looking around her comfortable bedroom. For some reason, the room always seemed different with Ryker in the house. More exciting and richer. She’d chosen the green bedspread with him in mind, although she’d never admit it. White pillows and furniture kept the room feminine, and the red throw rug on the wood floor added a pop of color.

The room smelled like Ryker—wild man and leather. He’d been there only a short time, and the room had taken on his essence.

So had she.

He’d opened up to her more than ever before, and the idea was both intimidating and exciting. How much more did he have hidden away, and what was it? What was so bad in his past that he wouldn’t share it with her? While he had certainly opened up, she knew he hadn’t told her everything.

The shower turned on in the bathroom. At the moment, the lost look in his eyes kept nagging at her.

She pushed from the bed, dropping clothing as she moved across the floor. Nudging open the bathroom door, she stopped as steam blasted against her. Ryker looked up from examining in the mirror a dark bruise across his rib cage, buck ass naked. “Zara?”

“What happened?” she breathed, running a finger along the purple mark. Who had hurt him? Anger mixed with her concern, and her hand shook.

“Jay got in a good punch. One.” Ryker reached over her shoulder to push the door closed. A veil had dropped over his eyes. He was retreating from their conversation. From their closeness. “What are you doing?”

Steam surrounded them. She paused. A smart girl would go back to the other room and shore up her emotional defenses as he did the same.

Turmoil turned his eyes a deep green, turmoil and something else. What was that? Need. It was need, and he was no longer hiding it. She couldn’t turn away. “I thought you might want company in the shower.” Her knees wobbled.

His gaze darkened and ran down her nude form. Hunger rolled, heated and strong, through the misty room. “We’re not making it to the shower.” Hooking her by the waist, he took her down to the plush white rug and rolled until she sat on his hips.

The steam dampened the air, and she ran her hands down his torso. Hard muscle and ripped ridges filled her palms. “I never imagined a man could be so beautiful,” she murmured. Strength could be stunning. “Everything about you is pure male.”

Evidence of that fact jumped against her inner thighs. He was hard and ready to go that quickly.