The SEAL's Virgin Hostage Read online

  I turned my head to look toward the front wall of the cabin, not wanting to see the censure in his gaze at how gullible I was. For whatever ridiculous reason, seeing such disapproval from him had the power to hurt. More than I cared to understand. “I realize I was a chump, Ryder, but that doesn’t make me completely irresponsible.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Ryder’s voice, still low and commanding, had a gentleness about it, a softening around the edges, that compelled me to look at him. His quiet, watchful expression unnerved me. What was he seeing, thinking when he studied me? “It’s not that you’re being judged for being taken advantage of, it’s that you’re around those types of people more often than not. People who don’t have your best interests at heart.”

  “And you and Lance know this for a fact?” I made a scoffing sound deep in my throat. “I’ve seen him three times in the last eight months, and I’m guessing at a total of seven hours all added up. Yet that gives him insight into who I am and what my life is all about?”

  I clocked the hardening of his jaw and the way he pressed his lips together. No comeback? Score one for me.

  “He’s feeling guilty because we haven’t been in touch. I get that, and I’m as much at fault as he is. I’m happy to stay here for a few hours and meet with him. We can discuss my life plans and all the idiot ex-boyfriends I’ve ever had if that reassures him, but I’m not going to sit here and be told I’m a delinquent child when I’ve done nothing wrong. At least nothing that warrants such an over-reaction.”

  There. I’d said my peace, even managing not to lose my temper, and I’d compromised in offering to meet with Lance.

  Pretty damn generous on my part, if I said so myself.

  “No dice, Princess.”

  What?

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “No,” he said in a bored tone, as if even taking the time to answer me was a joke.

  I gritted my teeth against the urge to scream. How hard would it be to knee him in the balls? One good jab and I’d be able to jump off the bed, maybe get to the door.

  “The two examples I gave are only a fraction of the total instances Felix shared with Lance and our team. While some can be explained away, others can’t, at least not easily, and most of those involve you allowing some asshole to take advantage of you. The worst part is those assholes are usually people you’ve known a long time.”

  “And we’re back at James.” I wasn’t going to argue with Ryder about the website design startup James had wanted me to invest in. I’d been against the idea from the start, not just because James had no experience with designing websites. But I supported him in other ways, and helped pay the odd living expense until he got on his feet after moving out of my apartment.

  James was a dreamer. The world needed more dreamers, even if I wished he was a bit more grounded.

  “Ask yourself this question: What is it about you that you think it’s okay for people to take advantage of you?”

  I shook my head. “That’s an utterly ridiculous notion.”

  “Is it?” Ryder shrugged. “Keeps happening. Something in your head is saying that’s an acceptable behavior. You’re not worthy of anything better.”

  My pulse quickened. “Now you’re being mean.” I blinked away the ridiculous burning from the back of my eyes.

  Ryder’s gaze narrowed at my actions. “No, I’m hitting my target, and you’re getting angry and defensive. But for now, I’ll let you stew and give you time to think a little more.”

  “How considerate of you.”

  His face broke into a smile, one that, for a second had my pulse racing for another reason before I remembered I hated him with the commitment of a Jedi Knight for Darth Vader.

  “There are no lengths to my considerate nature. For example, I’m betting you’d like to use the facilities by now, and since I’m not the total bastard I know you think I am, I’m going to un-cuff you and let you make use of the bathroom.”

  Of course as soon as he mentioned me seeing to my needs, I needed to do so desperately.

  “Thank you,” I replied stiffly.

  “Up you go.” He rolled to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled me to my feet in a smooth, effortless motion.

  Once again, I was reminded of this man’s strength and how easily he had controlled me when I’d physically challenged him.

  And when my body woke to the deep, powerful notes of his voice and sang with his touch.

  While, according to Lance, Ryder, and my uncle I might be easily taken advantage of, I certainly wasn’t a fool. Taking Ryder on in a physical duel would always result in my failure. I needed to outsmart him and then seize my opportunity to escape.

  As I headed into the small bathroom, I smiled to myself.

  These men wanted me to develop goals in life and make the most of my opportunities at hand?

  No problem. I was now fully committed to achieving one specific goal.

  Getting the hell out of here and not looking back.

  5

  Ryder

  The sound of a log snapping in the fire was like a starter’s gun firing on a still day, except instead of jolting a person, the warmth of the fire was settling, comforting.

  “Last night wasn’t the first time you’d used the name Alex Mitchell, was it?”

  I looked up from my place on the sofa and the Lee Child book I was reading and regarded Paige as she sat in the armchair, dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and soft sky-blue sweater, holding a dog-eared copy of an old Robert Ludlum thriller.

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “I didn’t think so. I mean”—she shrugged—“you had professionally printed business cards.”

  “Alex Mitchell is an alias I use.” One of many.

  Her expression turned guarded. “Is Ryder your real name, or another alias you’re using to hide your identity?” Her lips slanted with a wry smile. “Not that I’d expect you to tell me the truth if it was a lie, but I’d like to know.”

  Fair question. “It’s my real name.” I didn’t question the force with which I wanted her to believe me. Gaining Paige’s trust was more than a step to obtaining an easy truce while she was held here. I wanted her to know she could trust me on a deeper level. “Charles and Shelley Nolan from Malibu, California. An investment advisor and an ER nurse. Three sons, one daughter, and Mom makes the best spaghetti and meatballs. We all think she has Italian blood somewhere in her genes.”

  It was a risk, sharing personal information with her, but she was connected to Lance so my background was already at risk.

  My reward was the way the corners of her mouth turned upward and the sound of her soft chuckle. “I love spaghetti and meatballs. Sounds like you are close to your family.”

  “They’re crazy, but I love them, even though Mom tries to manage me from thousands of miles away. But that’s part of having a mom.”

  A shadow flickered across her face, so fast I wasn’t sure it had happened except for the too-practiced neutral tone of her voice. “I wouldn’t know, but it sounds great.”

  I wasn’t prepared to let the moment go without digging deeper. “What happened to your mom?”

  “She died.” Paige closed her book, placing it on the pine side table next to her chair. “I was just a baby. Car accident.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Honestly, I was so young at the time, I never experienced her loss first hand. But I felt it every time I saw the pain on my dad’s face. In all the years I knew him, it never went away.” She stared into the fireplace as the embers glowed bright scarlet and orange and rubbed the chain of her gold locket between a finger and thumb. “He told me once he fell in love with her the first moment he saw her. She was in a bookstore, reading a book near the front window, and he was walking past. He got one look at her and walked inside, asked her out, and the rest is history.”

  Phillip Monroe had seen what he wanted and not hesitated. Like my buddy, Jake Carter, with his now wife, Charlotte. I’d watched him in that d
iner, sitting there and declaring she was under his protection when he’d just met her. Hell, I’d even teased him about his behavior.

  As for Deke Williams, his circumstances were different from Jake’s, but when the chance came to claim Sophie and Noah, he had done so with ruthless determination.

  Acting on gut instinct was something I understood and often followed.

  This time, that same instinct was throwing me a curve ball.

  From the moment I sat near Paige at the bar in Nitro and saw her grimacing as she opened the box of pills, I wanted to wrap her up and ease her worries. The caveman urge to stand in front of her and take on all comers who dared to do her harm was new for me.

  Not that I wasn’t protective toward women.

  Hell, the opposite.

  But the level of ownership I felt for Paige was an instinctual, basic drive that didn’t make sense. I’d known the woman less than a day, but my commitment to her was growing, not waning over time.

  The memory of her soft body under me and the way my hands had rested on the curve of her hip was like a drug, testing my control to keep my hands off her and my mind focused on the job at hand.

  I wanted her to taste my mom’s spaghetti and meatballs.

  I wanted to make her laugh, hold her as she cried, learn all the small things about her that make her so special.

  I wanted my cock inside her as I claimed her.

  I wanted her in all the ways a man desires a woman.

  Was that love?

  Hell if I knew.

  But, I swore if any of my closest friends upset her, however unintentional, I’d cripple them a thousand different ways, all with the aim of causing as much pain as possible.

  I sat there, staring at Paige as my neat and ordered view of the world tilted.

  Good thing my ass was on the sofa or my legs would have given way.

  The truth sounded crazy, but I was falling for Paige.

  Hard and fast.

  “Ryder?”

  I blinked, caught out deep in my thoughts. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “I asked if you got a chance to visit your family often?”

  “Every couple of months. Dad flies in to see the guys, including Lance. He manages our investment portfolios.”

  “Ah,” she nodded. “He must be good at his job for Lance to have him looking after his money.”

  “We do okay.” More than okay. Each of us were now millionaires a few times over, but we weren’t the kind of guys who flashed our wealth. One only had to look at our rigs. Trucks and an SUV or two with kids in mind. Things didn’t get more down to earth than that when you had cash to spare.

  “I’m glad you can share that connection with your dad.” The melancholy tone in her voice reminded me of the heavy gray clouds building outside. “I envy you that chance.”

  First her mom and then her dad’s passing. “Lance has told me how much your dad loved you.”

  “He did. I was very lucky to have him for the time I did.”

  “But we’d all like that time to be longer.”

  “Everybody leaves eventually.”

  I stared at Paige, struck by the finality in her voice. But as she moved her gaze back to the fireplace, I could see her expression was soft, her gaze full of longing in defiance of her words.

  When someone experiences loss, they appreciate more what they have around them.

  Yes, people move on.

  Unless you give them reason to stay close.

  Paying their bills.

  Encouraging them to stay focused on a goal so they don’t have to leave and make their fortune elsewhere.

  The little princess wasn’t being reckless with her money.

  She was showing love, seeking a commitment from those she liked and didn’t want to lose the only way she knew how.

  “Is that why you offer to help out your friends? To make it easier for them to stay?”

  She snorted a dismissive laugh. “That’s what you think? I need to buy love?”

  “No,” I answered quietly. “I think you’re so scared of losing those you care about, you’ll do whatever it takes to hold them close. Even if deep down you know it’s not the best thing, especially if they are using you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “God, you’ve got a nerve. Thanks for the dime-store Freudian analysis, but I’ll wait to seek out an expert, if and when I feel that’s needed.”

  “Not trying to insult you, Paige. I care about you and you’re obviously behaving that way with your friends for a reason.” I cursed inwardly at the way the line of her shoulders stiffened. “How about we revisit this subject later. I promise, every time I challenge you with a question I’m not making a personal attack. This is about giving you options to see what motivates your behavior. Everyone has reasons for why they act. I promise you, Paige, Lance won’t let this drop.” Neither would I.

  “Good to know.” She rose, her expression closed, gaze cold. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  I watched her stalk across the room, catching her glare as she turned to close the door behind her.

  At least the bathroom door had no lock.

  Brilliant. I’d royally fucked up what had been an easy moment between us, sharing family stuff, getting to know each other in a more normal dynamic than kidnapper and prisoner.

  During lunch a few hours earlier, Paige had been helpful, making the cheese sandwiches we toasted as I heated up some soup. I hadn’t pushed her to chat, but let the normal questions as we worked together on the meal gradually encourage her to feel less on guard.

  I didn’t want her constantly in her head to the point she withdrew from me altogether. Letting her ask questions had been the start of ensuring the door of communication stayed open.

  The silence of the cabin could be overwhelming, the only disturbance the increasing sound of the wind. According to an email from Lance, a blizzard was threatening in the next few hours, keeping him stuck in Denver and putting off him laying down some hard truths to Paige.

  Going to the left front window, I looked out at the snow being tossed around by strong gusts of wind like the icy particles were tiny bits of fabric in a giant washing machine. At this rate, we’d most likely soon lose power. Not that I was worried. There was a powerful generator, plus more than enough wood to keep us warm for days on end. The wood stove and the fireplace meant cooking and heating weren’t dependent on electricity.

  But blizzards played havoc with communication devices. Good thing Lance had a satellite phone stored in the garage. I’d been charging the battery since early this morning.

  Speaking of phones, Eli had taken Paige’s back with him and our tech boys at Marshall Security had easily hacked her code. Lance had been monitoring all voice and text messages received. It seemed James was more than a little put out Paige had left Nitro early and that she hadn’t returned his messages since. Lance was continuing the plan of radio silence as far as Paige was concerned. If James was truly concerned, he’d approach Felix Monroe to check on Paige’s welfare. Otherwise, we’d draw out any rats that were looking for their steady supply of cheese, i.e. money from Paige.

  Heading back to my seat, I stopped when a loud clatter came from the bathroom.

  I had the door open in seconds, stopping halfway into the room, and stared at my little captive who, it should be said, was cursing a blue streak.

  I barely contained my own X-rated protest at the sight before me.

  Paige had one leg braced on the small white vanity and the other stretched out to reach the towel rail, with one hand clutching at the windowsill another half foot above her head. On the ground were the remnants of the other sturdy beige tubular towel rail. Broken and in places shattered.

  What if she had fallen? Hit her head?

  “Taking up gymnastics, Princess?” I moved to her side so I could see her face. Including the way she clenched her teeth at my jibe. “What the hell were you thinking? The fucking window was nailed shut in preparation of your visi
t. Not that you could reach it for starters.”

  “Go to hell, you son of a bitch,” she snapped. “It’s easy to feel superior when you’re not the one being held against your will.”

  Not the wisest choice of words when I was dealing with a rush of adrenaline. Another glance at the broken towel rail had me imagining her with a broken arm or leg or, God help us, spinal damage.

  “I’m also not the one nearly breaking my neck doing the worst Spiderman impersonation on record.” Reaching out, I gripped her at the waist and lifted her down, only to have a tiny foot stomp on top of mine with more force than seemed possible in such a small body.

  “Princess, you just poked the tiger one time too many.”

  In one swift motion, I had her over my shoulder. Turning, I walked out of the bathroom, ignoring the tiny fists forcefully massaging my back and kidneys.

  Bending at the waist, I dropped my reluctant passenger on her backside, sat on the bed, and pulled her wriggling form across my lap so her denim-covered ass took center stage.

  “Let. Me. Go. You insufferable cretin.” She kicked at the bed for good measure.

  “No. I’m making it my life’s mission to keep you safe, Princess.” As I said the words, the rightness of that statement settled deep in my soul, warming me from the inside out, like I had come home after a long journey and found the answer to a long-unanswered question. Being whole. Being happy. Finding the precious thing two of my closest friends had managed to snare these past months.

  Finding her.

  The one woman meant for me.

  My grip firmed on her hip and lower back. I was ready for whatever wild ride happened next with Paige.

  Keeping me centered was the knowledge she wasn’t at the same place I was with our attraction. Her emotions were wrapped up in anger, fear, and resentment, as well as the fire I saw in her gaze when I lay on top of her. The way she licked her lips. The way her face softened when I revealed something about myself she hadn’t expected.