The Defender: RYDER (Cover Six Security Book 3) Read online

  Only to learn that she was worried about treasure hunters?

  What. The. Fuck.

  Ryder spun on his heel, grabbed his pack from the gravel lot where he had dropped it fifteen minutes earlier and tossed it over his shoulder. "Ninja, we're done. Let's go—"

  "Go? You can't leave! You just got here."

  "Don't care—"

  "Ryder, wait!"

  A hand closed over his arm, the touch light yet desperate. He clenched his jaw, counted to three, then turned back to his sister. "Allison, I'm really not in the mood—"

  "But this is important." She blinked and damn if he didn't see tears filling her eyes. Big and wide, their brown color just a shade lighter than his own. And dammit, why did she have to pull the tears card? He fucking hated that—

  And she knew it.

  "Allison—"

  "I wouldn't have called you if it wasn't important."

  "Treasure hunters aren't important, Allison. And they sure as hell aren't 'life-or-death'. Not to me. Not to anyone else, either. Hell, they're probably a dime a dozen down here." Maybe that was the truth, maybe it wasn't. Either way, he didn't care. And why should Allison? If some lame ass group of tourists wanted to break their backs digging in the sand searching for buried pirate treasure, more power to them.

  "But they're not. And where we saw them—" She hesitated, glanced over her shoulder at the other woman, then looked back at Ryder. "It's too close to where the kids play."

  Ryder blinked, wondered if maybe he was more fucking tired than he realized because no way in hell did he hear what he just thought he heard. "Kids?"

  "Yes, the kids."

  He wasn't going to ask. No way in hell would he ask. Asking would only encourage Allison. Give her a false sense of hope. Make her think he cared when he didn't.

  "What kids?"

  Ryder tossed a narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder at Ninja. Why the fuck had the man even opened his mouth? Why couldn't he just stand there and say nothing, like he usually did? Hell, that's why he had the nickname—because he was usually silent as a monk. Unseen. Unheard. Unnoticed.

  Until he opened his fucking mouth.

  Allison picked right up on it, too. Her gaze shot to Ninja and she offered him a small smile, like she was silently thanking him. And that sparkle in her eyes—oh, hell no. No way was she going to flirt with Ninja. Uh-uh. Not happening.

  "The kids at—"

  Ryder advanced on his sister, cutting her off with a dangerously low voice. "No. Don't even answer that. Don't care."

  Allison narrowed her eyes at him then turned back to Ninja with that soft smile. "The children at the school we're helping to rebuild."

  Dammit!

  Ryder fought the urge to slam his pack to the ground then drop-kick it into oblivion. Dammit. And damn her. He was losing the battle, he knew it.

  Kids.

  And a rebuilt school.

  Fuck.

  Next, she'd probably tell him they were orphans or some shit like that—

  "Most of them are orphans."

  "Oh, come on!" Ryder threw his hands up in the air, dropped them to the back of his neck and tilted his face up to the clear sky overhead. "Really? Really?"

  Allison jabbed him in the chest again. "What is your problem?"

  "Nothing." Ryder stepped back and shook his head. "Not a damn thing."

  "Then stop acting like some damn Neanderthal."

  Ryder opened his mouth, stammered, slammed it shut before he said something he'd regret. And before Allison could jam that damn finger in his chest again.

  He tossed another glance at Ninja then swore under his breath. Shit. The other man was just standing there, watching him with that quiet gaze. And fuck, he could feel the other man trying to sway him. To get him to change his mind.

  Shit.

  Ryder blew out a deep breath between pursed lips then turned back to his sister. "What are you even doing down here?"

  "We're volunteering."

  "Volunteering?"

  "Yes, volunteering. You know—where you give up some of your time to help others without expectation of being given anything in return? Volunteering." She tilted her head to the side and smirked. "You should try it sometime. It might do your black heart some good."

  His black heart? Really? Is that what his sister really thought of him? Or was she simply repeating what she'd been told?

  He started to glance at the other woman then quickly stopped himself, focusing instead on the gravel under his feet. Fuck. He didn't understand the need to look at her—he shouldn't want to. Shouldn't even be wondering what the two women had discussed—if they had discussed anything. It had been a long time ago.

  A lifetime ago. She should be over it by now. Hell, he should be over it by now.

  Yeah, sure. That's why he couldn't even look at her. That's why heat that had nothing to do with the warm climate filled his face.

  "Ryder, please. You're here. Can't you just look into it for us?"

  He didn't miss the pleading in his sister's voice—or the way she kept saying us. He should say no. He needed to say no. Needed to head back to the aging dock and catch the next ferry to the other island and hop on the next plane back to the states.

  Yes. That's exactly what he needed to do.

  So why wasn't he moving?

  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Ran a hand through his hair. Blew out a deep breath.

  And made the mistake of finally looking at the other woman.

  Thick hair the color of honey was pulled back in a ponytail. A few long strands had come undone and curled around her oval face, framing high cheekbones and a full mouth. Loose khaki shorts hung from curved hips, the hem stopping mid-thigh. Like his sister, she was wearing a dark green tank shirt embroidered with a small logo he couldn't quite make out. Unlike his sister, she was wearing sandals, the heavy-duty kind that you could hike in.

  Ryder allowed himself a brief second of male appreciation as his gaze roamed from the top of her head to the painted tips of her toes and back up again. Why shouldn't he? It wasn't like anyone could see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses.

  And she was beautiful. Not in the modern super-model sense but in the classical sense, with curves in all the right places and skin kissed by the sun. An outdoors girl who wasn't afraid to let the wind mess up her hair. A girl who wouldn't think twice about baiting a hook or climbing a tree.

  Hannah Montgomery. His kid sister's best friend. The girl whose virginity he had stolen eleven years ago under the stars of a Springtime night. The girl whose heart he had broken three months later when he left, acting like what they'd had was no big deal.

  Yes, she was beautiful. Had always been beautiful—but she wasn't a girl. Not anymore. Hadn't been for a long time. She was a woman.

  And she was watching him with those beautiful eyes that still haunted him in his dreams, even after all these years. Eyes the color of warm tea focused on him, filling him with heat of another kind and making him wonder what she saw when she looked at him. Making him wonder if she—

  A hand darted into his line of vision, the fingers snapping dangerously close to his nose. Ryder jerked back, turned his gaze to his sister and frowned when she rolled her eyes at him.

  "Did you hear anything I just said?"

  "Of course I did." At least, he thought he did. She had asked if he could stay and check things out. "And the answer is no."

  A slow smile wreathed Allison's face. The sight was enough to make his stomach clench in dread and Ninja's choked laughter only made the sensation worse. What the hell? Had he screwed up somehow? Said something he shouldn't have?

  "Perfect. I knew you'd agree."

  "Wait. What? Agree to what? I didn't agree to anything."

  "Yes, you did. Just now."

  "No, Allison. I didn't."

  "But you said no."

  "Exactly. No. Absolutely not."

  "Then you do agree."

  "I—" Ryder stopped before he dug
himself in deeper. This was a trap, he knew it. He had missed something—something important. He just couldn't figure out what. He turned to Ninja, frowned when he saw the other man's grin. "What?"

  "She asked if we were going to leave."

  "Yeah? And?"

  Ninja shrugged. "That's what you just said no to."

  Shit. He turned back to Allison, shuddered at the broad smile she was giving him. Wide. Sweet. Innocent.

  Bullshit. He knew better.

  "Not happening. I know all about your games, little sister, and I'm not playing. We're not staying." He readjusted the strap of his pack and spun on his heel. "Ninja, let's go—"

  "You can't."

  He didn't bother to look back at his sister when he answered, just kept walking. "We can. And we are."

  "But you can't. I mean, you really can't. At least, not until tomorrow."

  Ryder halted, closed his eyes and counted to three. Took a deep breath and extended the count to ten then slowly turned around. "And why can't we?"

  He didn't miss the satisfied smile curling the corners of Allison's mouth when she pointed toward the dock behind him. "Because the ferry only comes twice a day and you were on the last one. You're kind of stuck here."

  Twice a day? She had to be fucking kidding.

  Ryder swallowed back an oath as he stared at the empty dock. Empty? Hell, it was beyond empty. The few people who had been on it with them were nowhere to be seen. In fact, they were the only four people in the immediate area.

  That struck him as odd. This was an island in the middle of fucking paradise. Isolated and remote, maybe, but still—there should be other people around. Where the hell were all the tourists? The vendors? Hell, even the locals.

  He started to ask Allison where everyone was when she moved past him, a teasing grin on her face. "Suck it up, big boy. You can handle one night of roughing it."

  "Roughing it? What the hell do you mean, roughing it?"

  "Just what I said. This isn't a tourist spot like the other islands. Things are a little more primitive around here." She elbowed him in the side and kept going. "But at least I already made arrangements for your accommodations."

  He stared after her, wanting to ask what kind of accommodations but stopping himself. Not because he was afraid of the answer but because Hannah had moved past him, her steps hurried as she raced to catch up with Allison.

  Ryder stared after her, his gut clenching with need—and remorse—as his gaze locked on the round curves of her ass. Something hit him from behind and he stumbled forward, caught himself then whirled around to face Ninja. "What the hell was that for?"

  The other man hoisted his pack higher on his shoulder with a shrug. "You might want to wipe the drool off your chin."

  Ryder started to raise his hand, dropped it and glared at Ninja. "Real fucking funny. I'm not drooling."

  "Yeah, uh-huh." Ninja took two steps, stopped and turned back. "And for future reference, if you're going to ogle someone, you need to learn to be a little more discreet. Hell, that look you were giving her was giving me a fucking hard-on."

  What the fuck was he talking about? "What the fuck are you talking about?"

  Ninja chuckled, tapped the top of his head with one finger, then pointed that same finger at Ryder. No, not at him—at his head. He frowned, reached up—and touched the frames of the sunglasses perched on the top of his head.

  "Fuck."

  "Yeah, apparently. And I expect to hear the full story."

  Ryder dropped the sunglasses back in place and stormed past Ninja. "There is no story."

  "Uh-huh. Sure there isn't. I still expect to hear it."

  "Not happening." Because there was no story, no matter what the other man thought. There was just regret—

  And no way in hell was Ryder going to share that. Not with anyone.

  Chapter Two

  The decrepit van bounced over another rut, sending the rear passengers scurrying for any kind of handhold. Hannah bit back a smile when Allison glanced at her, a silent question in her gaze.

  Maybe Hannah was driving a little more recklessly than usual. No, it wasn't exactly safe, not on these dirt and gravel paths that crisscrossed the island and passed for roads—but she was in a reckless mood and didn't care.

  Ryder was here.

  She hadn't expected him to show up at all. Had figured he'd make some excuse and completely blow Allison's request off—even if she had made the situation seem a little more dramatic than it really was. Life-or-death? Hannah still couldn't believe she'd gone that far.

  But it worked. Ryder was here.

  And now she had no idea what to do. How to act. What to say.

  Did he remember her? That was a stupid question. Yes, of course he remembered her. They'd known each other for—she frowned, doing the math in her head. Fifteen years? Had it really been that long? No, that wasn't possible—

  The van bounced over another rut and Hannah softly swore. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and eased up on the gas until the ride smoothed out then returned back to her thoughts.

  Fifteen years—only that was wrong, it was probably closer to sixteen. Maybe even seventeen. She had been ten—maybe—when Allison and Ryder had moved in several doors down all those years ago. That would make it—

  Yikes. Seventeen years ago. When had she gotten so freaking old?

  She mentally rolled her eyes and called herself a fool for skirting around her main worry. Ryder was here, sitting a few feet behind her. Close enough that she could smell the faintest hint of his soap, mixed with the tangy salt in the humid air and his own unique scent, something masculine and strong and entirely too distracting. Close enough that if she looked in the rearview mirror, their gazes would meet and her heart would slam into her chest again—not that it mattered since he had lowered those dark sunglasses over his eyes. But earlier, when those intense brown eyes had raked her from top to bottom and everywhere in between?

  Yikes. Her skin had prickled with awareness and it had taken more control than she expected not to throw herself into his arms.

  It was either that or deliver a roundhouse kick upside his head. She still wasn't sure which one held more appeal.

  Ryder was here, after all these years.

  And she had no idea how to act. What did one say to the guy who took your virginity when you were not-quite-seventeen-years-old? Nice to see you? How have you been?

  Want to find a secluded spot and reenact that long-ago night?

  Hannah swallowed back a groan and readjusted her grip on the steering wheel. No. No, no, no. That was precisely what she couldn't say. But wow, it was hard not to—because Ryder was hard. Every inch of him, from the defined muscles of the biceps stretching the sleeves of his snug polo to the steely strength of his thighs encased in the light fabric of those cargo pants he had on. There wasn't an inch of fat on him anywhere that she could see. Yes, he was hard. Even his eyes had a hardness to them that hadn't been there all those years ago. Definitely hard.

  Probably hard everywhere in between, too.

  And no! No, she absolutely could not be thinking like that.

  She chanced a glance in the rearview mirror. Her pulse quickened as she studied the strong line of his stubbled jaw, the chiseled cheekbones and sinfully full mouth. How could he be even more ruggedly handsome than he had been all those years ago? Back then, he'd just been starting to fill out, his body only hinting at what was to come. She'd thought him just a little bit dangerous back then. But now?

  Oh, he was more than just a little dangerous. And more than just a little sinful. He was trouble with a capital T and a whole lot of heartbreak and if she were smart, she'd pull the van over and kick him out right now and run like hell in the opposite direction and—

  They hit another rut, this one even deeper. The van bounced and swayed, tires spinning on loose dirt and sand. Hannah hit the gas and jerked the steering wheel and the van shot forward with another final bounce.

  The passengers in th
e back—Ryder and the other man whose name she didn't know because nobody had bothered to make introductions—both swore. Even Allison muttered under her breath and shot Hannah a meaningful look.

  "Eyes on the prize, Hannah."

  Yes, she knew that. And that was the problem. Her eyes had been on the prize—it was just the wrong one.

  But that led to an entirely different problem. How were they going to explain the men's presence when they got back to what passed for their base of operations? It wasn't like they could just say they ran into them and brought them back for a visit. Allison had been right when she told Ryder this wasn't a tourist kind of place. This remote island, more than an hour east of all the others, had sustained significant damage from the hurricane several years ago. It was still recovering, would probably be recovering for the next five years, maybe even longer. The island wasn't home to any hotels or restaurants. It didn't have any fancy nightclubs or popular cultural attractions.

  What it had was a small village nestled on the southeast side of the island and some private homes scattered here and there. Everything else was preserved as a nature sanctuary. People didn't come here to visit, not really. If they came here at all, it was to get away. And that didn't happen very often, either.

  Hannah had no idea how her best friend was going to explain their presence—she could only hope Allison had some kind of plan because they were pulling up to their home-away-from-home now. Hannah had just placed the aging van in Park when the door to the main office—and the project coordinator's private quarters—opened. Kevin Wright stood just outside, his hands fisted on lean hips, brows pulled low over blue eyes. He stared at the van, no doubt wondering where they had gone and why.

  Wasn't he about to be surprised?

  Allison turned in the worn seat, a bright smile on her face. "Welcome home!"

  Silence stretched from the back seat. A long, drawn-out silence that did not bode well for their survival. Hannah shifted, drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Studied the few worn and aging buildings as if seeing them for the first time.