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If Nathalie hadn’t returned home to help her father fulfill his promise to a dead son, what kind of woman would she be today?
The distance between him and Nathalie this morning had felt as wide as a canyon. One he wasn’t sure he was ready to cross.
His phone rang. He glanced at the screen.Lachlan.
“My office in thirty minutes,” Lachlan growled. “Danny will relieve you.”
Ryder hadn’t heard Lachlan address him in that manner since their SAS days. The muscles in his neck bunched. “What’s this about?”
In last night’s chaos, he hadn’t told Nathan or Lachlan he’d been shot. Perhaps Danny reported the incident.
Or Lucas Caldwell found out about the break-in and Nathalie’s presence at the scene and had given Lachlan an arse-chewing.
“We’ll discuss it when you get here.” Lachlan disconnected before Ryder could reply.
Ryder glanced at his watch. According to the navigation on his phone, it would take twenty-seven minutes in current traffic to reach Dìleas’s headquarters in Alexandria. Lachlan wasn’t giving him any time to waste. His boss had his knickers in a twist.
Danny was stepping off the lift just as Ryder reached the lobby. He’d changed from the jeans and t-shirt he wore earlier in the morning to dark blue trousers and a light pink polo shirt.
“Angie, this is Danny.” Ryder introduced his colleague to Williams’s young receptionist, dressed for autumn today in a dark red, long-sleeved dress that barely reached mid-thigh. “He’ll be stationed here in the lobby until I return.” After last night’s events, he and Nathalie had given up the pretense that he was there to perform a security audit.
Danny shoved aside his shaggy bangs and flashed his surfer dude grin at Angie, then grinned wider when copper stained the young woman’s cheeks.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” Ryder told the former SEAL. He texted Nathalie and Don to let them know he had a meeting outside of Williams and that Danny was taking over Nathalie’s security until he returned.
Navigating the Northern Virginia traffic in record time, he parked Lachlan’s X5 in the garage on the third level next to his rental Suburban and took the lift to the sixth floor.
Nothing other than the name on the door gave away Dìleas’s corporate mission of providing cyber, personal, and facility security to government agencies and corporations. Decorated in shades of blue and green, there were no photos of soldiers jumping out of airplanes or weaponed-up SEALs rising from the ocean. Instead, lush green plants surrounded the seating area and gray wood-grained reception desk, and painted landscapes hung on the walls.
The mastermind behind the décor was the petite ginger-haired woman in an amethyst-colored blazer and matching high-waisted skirt that lengthened legs ending in four-inch heels.
Sophia Russo Mackay hurried toward Ryder, slid her arms around him, and squeezed. “Ryder. It’s so nice to see you.”
He hid a wince at the pain in his side before placing a brief kiss on her hair. Sophia was a hugger, something he was still getting used to, but her warmth and genuine caring were chipping away at his normal reserve. He could see how her Midwestern charm had wrapped Lachlan around her dainty little finger.
She drew back with a frown. “I don’t know what’s going on, but he’s in a pissy mood. Tread lightly.”
“I will.” He shifted his gaze to Dìleas’s office manager and unofficial company mum, seated behind the desk. “Hello, Penny.”
“Hello, dear.” Penny’s blue eyes filled with warmth. Her fashionable straight bob, not white nor gray but an attractive silver, curled gently beneath her jaw and ended just above the collar of her dusky-pink silk blouse. “It’s nice to see you in person instead of on screen. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. But I had better not keep Lachlan waiting.”
“Good luck,” Sophia stage whispered.
Ryder headed to Lachlan’s office, gave the door a brief rap with his knuckles, and stepped inside.
Lachlan looked up from the pile of papers on his desk. “Close the door and sit down.” He leaned back and crossed his arms, examining Ryder like he was a bug under a microscope. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a history with Nathalie Williams?”
Ryder’s stomach sank. “Nathan told you.”
“No, he didn’t, thebawbag. Not until I showed him the photo that was couriered to me this morning.” Lachlan picked up the manila envelope lying on his desk and pulled out an eight-by-ten photo, then held it up.
Fucking hell.
Even a child could tell the kiss he and Nathalie were sharing in the front seat of the Suburban wasn’t a chaste one. He’d been distracted by Nathalie’s comments about Grace Winfield being a better fit for him than she was.
He should have noticed the Explorer before he did.