Page 27

He seriously didn’t think he was going to sleep here, in her home, down the hall from her, did he? “Your job is to recommend security procedures. My job is to decide whether to accept them.” She stood from the table and gathered their dishes. As far as she was concerned, the conversation was over.
Ryder stood as well. “Does my presence disturb you?”
Something in his voice raised the hair on the back of her neck.
He strode into her office.
“Where are you going?” Surprise rooted in her place for a second, then she hurried to catch him. “That’s my priv—”
The words died in her throat.
Ryder stood by her bookcase, the photograph she kept of them nestled between his long fingers. “What happened between us, Nathalie?”
If he looked at her now, he’d surely notice her heart banging against her chest.
He put the frame on the shelf and took a step toward her. Then another step.
He was close enough that his new aftershave caressed her senses. Leather, bergamot, and spice. Her body tightened, then grew languid.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
Because she couldn’t. Not truthfully. She couldn’t bear to see the hate and disgust in his eyes.
She dropped her gaze to the floor so he wouldn’t see the lie in hers. “I told you. I came home to help my father with his company. I cared about you, but we were on different paths.” Her voice weakened. “It was the right thing to do.”
“Was it?” Ryder took another half step, bringing his body flush with hers.
His warmth, his nearness, flooded her insides with awareness. She shivered.
Move.Her brain screamed.
She couldn’t.
Wouldn’t.
He traced the line of her jaw, forcing her to meet his stare while he branded her with the memory of his touch. “You’re lying to me. Why, after all this time?”
His breath washed over her lips, making them tingle. Those lips had once whispered across her own, caressed her skin, sucked her nipples, and brushed over her—
Ryder stepped back, his eyes backlit with a blue fire. “You shouldn’t look at me like that if you don’t want me to touch you.” His words were rough, not his normal smooth, clipped cadence. Beneath the raw desire was a simmering anger, a bitterness that splashed icy water on her scorching hot memories.
A tremor rocked her. “I…I’m tired. You should go.”
The flames in his eyes banked. “Lock the door behind me and set the alarm.” He brushed past her to the front door.
Nathalie followed, staring at his broad back and very fine ass as he sauntered down the front steps to her driveway. She closed the door, threw the deadbolt, and punched in the alarm code.
Then double-checked every window to make sure they were locked. Someone was tracking her. Might have been in her home.
She didn’t need a bodyguard. She’d be fine. Her alarm was on. She could lock her bedroom door. Maybe stick a chair underneath the doorknob like they did in the movies just for extra peace of mind.
That was silly. And a sign she was letting stress take control. A bath. That’s what she needed. A nice warm bath and another glass of wine would soothe her jagged nerves.
Nathalie cleaned up the kitchen, refilled her wineglass, and trudged upstairs to her bathroom. A week. Maybe less. She only had to figure out a way to keep Ryder at arm’s length for the rest of this week. Then he’d bring in this Caleb Varella guy and be out of her life again. He’d never know what she did.
It was better this way.
What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. The kindest thing she could do for Ryder was let him believe his family was right, and he was better off without her.