by M. S. Parker
“But we don’t have that kind of relationship,” I reminded her. I selected another chip. Munched on it, then washed it down with some soda. “We’re not even dating. We’ve got a mutually satisfying physical relationship. That’s all.”
“Please.” Stella rolled her eyes. “You at least like the guy. You wouldn’t be having a mutually satisfying physical relationship with somebody you thought was a toad, now would you?”
I made a face at her.
She waved it away. “You don’t have to tell me I’m right. We both know I am.” She leaned forward, eyes earnest now. “This has to be affecting you. Are you going to talk to him about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said, shaking my head. “The baby isn’t any of my business.”
They were both silent.
I found myself squirming in my seat under Stella’s direct stare, and I ended up looking away. “Look, this is something that happened before he met me – way before he met me. We’re not dating, we’re not romantically involved. We just–”
“If you say mutually satisfying physical relationship one more time, I’ll scream,” Stella said, holding up a hand. “Yeah, so you two aren’t involved in a normal relationship, but there is a relationship nonetheless. And you can try to lie to yourself and insist this doesn’t affect you, but I’m not fooled.” Her voice softened, and she leaned in closer. “You need to talk to Ryder.”
“It’s none of my business.” I reached for my soft drink, wishing it was a margarita. I’d have wine later tonight, I consoled myself. Maybe an entire bottle. After putting the glass down, I met Stella’s gaze. “If he brings it up, I’ll see what happens then, but really, it’s not any of my business.”
16
Breanna
I hadn’t talked to Ryder in almost a week, not since that woman had arrived on his doorstep with a baby she claimed to be his.
He’d texted me a couple of times, but I’d put him off.
I was in the middle of eating the soup I’d brought for lunch when he texted me yet again. I lowered my spoon into my bowl and took a deep, steadying breath as I picked up my phone to read the text.
I want to see you. Can you come over tonight?
My gut instinct was to say no, to put him off yet again. That left me feeling like a hypocrite because I’d been insisting to Stella over the past week that everything was fine, that Ryder’s child was his business and his alone.
If that was the case, I shouldn’t have a hard time seeing him, though.
It was that thought that made up my mind.
Sure. When and where?
Not even a minute passed before his response popped up.
My place. Tonight, at seven.
I blew out a breath, trying to calm nerves that were suddenly feeling jagged and raw. Nothing had changed in our relationship, not really. I enjoyed being with him. Why mess up a good thing?
I kept my response short and simple.
I’ll see you at seven.
Once I sent the message, I put my phone face down and took another slow, steadying breath.
I’d feel better once things between Ryder and me seemed more…normal, anyway. And that couldn’t happen while I was avoiding him, now could it?
I worked at my desk right up until six-thirty.
I told myself it was just, so I could get caught up, but I wasn’t really behind.
The reality was that I knew if I let myself think about the night ahead, I’d change my mind and chicken out.
I didn’t chicken out – ever. It was a point of pride with me.
I didn’t completely manage to distract myself with work. More than once, I’d picked up my phone and re-read the texts, but I never quite let myself conclude that maybe it would be better to cancel.
By the time I got ready to leave, I had a headache, and I was more than ready to see this day behind me. I locked up behind myself, keying in the alarm code for the system, and telling myself I could turn my brain off for the night.
I made the drive to Ryder’s place in silence, not even bothering to turn on the radio.
Parking in the round half-circle in front of his big, elegant home, I sat in the car for a minute, staring up at the brightly lit windows.
A shadow passed by the door and it opened. Light from behind him framed the man haunting my every waking second, making it impossible to see his face.
But he was looking at me.
I could feel it.
Slowly, I climbed out of my SUV, dropping my keys into my purse before closing the door.
He came out onto the porch when I was just a few feet from the steps, and the full moon fell on his face to highlight his features.
His eyes glittered as he stared at me.
My heart banged hard against my ribs as I mounted the steps.
Ryder held out his hand, and I placed mine in it. He squeezed my fingers and turned, tugging me into the warmth of the house.
He slid my coat off my shoulders and hung it in the closet. When he turned back to me, I opened my mouth to say something. I had no idea what.
But his mouth was on mine before I managed to get out even a single word.
Groaning into his kiss, I reached up and shoved my hands under his shirt.
This…this was what I needed.
I didn’t want to think or talk about anything.
I just wanted his hands on me.
Ryder seemed to be of the same mind, using his body to herd me back against the door. I sagged against it, my hands falling limply to my sides as he pressed his mouth to my neck.
Heated pleasure scored me, and I curled my hands into useless fists.
“I’ve missed you,” Ryder said against my neck.
I closed my eyes.
His mouth found mine, and I curled my arms around his neck, giving myself up to the raw, aching hunger that threatened to consume me.
More.
I wanted more.
Ryder palmed my butt and pulled me firmly against his erection. It nudged my belly, and I could feel myself softening, readying for him. Emptiness had turned into an ache in me, one only he could ease.
He pushed my sweater up and freed the clasp of my bra. The cups fell away from my breasts, and he slid his hands up over my torso to take both in his hands.
I moaned and pushed myself more completely into his touch.
Ryder responded by boosting me up and taking one peaked nipple into his mouth. I cried out. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I clung to him while sensations swamped me.
He used tongue and teeth on me, drawing the nipple so tight, it hurt. He switched to the other side, and I shivered as cool air kissed my wet flesh, teasing my heightened senses even more.
I rocked against the heavy ridge of his cock, my panties slipping wetly over me. He growled against my flesh, then slowly, he lifted his head.
He watched me with stark, hungry eyes as he untangled my legs from the small of his back, guiding them down until I stood on my own two feet.
He continued to watch me as he went to his knees in front of me and caught the hem of my skirt, slowly dragging it up.
My breathing hitched as he leaned in and kissed me through my panties. A clamoring ache built inside me as he started to drag the fabric down my hips.
I should have just kept my eyes closed.
He looked at me in a way that made me feel bare and vulnerable. Desperate to get away from that penetrating stare, I wheeled my gaze around and found myself gazing at the landing where I’d been last week.
The landing where I’d stood when a woman came into this house and told Ryder he had a child.
Abruptly, I shoved Ryder away. “Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. I smoothed my panties and skirt back into place, turning my back on him as I adjusted my bra. After a few moments, I spun to face him. “I can’t do this.”
It occurred to me that I was standing in the exact spot that she had been – the woman who’d brought his son.
Was she th
e mother?
She had to be. It only made sense, right?
“What’s going on?” Ryder asked, his voice rough.
I shook my head because I couldn’t entirely explain it myself.
“I just…Ryder, I can’t do this,” I said, my voice catching as I turned to meet his gaze.
He didn’t pretend not to understand. His jaw went tight, and his eyes became expressionless.
“I’m not…look, this was just supposed to be a physical thing between us, and I know that. But it’s not just us now. You’ve got a son.”
He didn’t respond.
Licking my lips, I told myself to let it go, to just let it go and leave.
But I found myself pressing him. “Is he yours?”
“That’s none of your business,” he said, voice taut.
He was right. I knew he was right.
But what was between Ryder and me was my business, and I knew one thing – I couldn’t do this.
An ache settled in my chest as I acknowledged something else. Stella had been right. I’d already let this move way past the physical on my part. I didn’t know what to do about it either.
Ryder took a step toward me. “Breanna…”
“Don’t.” I held up my hand, backing up to get more distance between us.
A shutter fell across his features.
I made myself face him squarely. Trying to quell the way my heart raced and ached, I met his gaze. “You’re right. That woman…the boy, they aren’t my business.” I kept seeing her face though, the way she’d looked at Ryder. That beseeching, silent plea for understanding and acceptance.
“They aren’t my business,” I said again, shaking my head.
“But what’s between us…that is my business and knowing about that boy? I just…” Turning away, I moved to the closet.
Ryder stood so close to it I felt his body heat as I opened the door.
“I can’t do this now, Ryder. I’m sorry.”
I pulled my coat on and picked up my purse, moving to the door.
Everything in me screamed to wait, to go back to him.
I steeled myself and reached for the doorknob.
17
Breanna
“Don’t go.” Ryder moved up behind me so suddenly, so quietly, I didn’t even hear him.
He grasped my hips in his big hands and leaned in, using our bodies to prevent me from opening the door.
I went to pull away, but he buried his face in my hair and said again, in a rough, raw whisper this time, “Don’t go. Please…for fuck’s sake, don’t go, Breanna.”
The emotion in his voice made my knees sag, and I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to the door while a war waged inside me.
Don’t do this to yourself, the saner, more rational part of me argued. I was setting myself up for misery because every day I was with Ryder, I wanted to be with him even more.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to rally my strength, but the moment I closed my eyes, I saw that woman again. The woman and Ryder’s baby.
“Is he your son?” I asked in a ragged voice.
Ryder didn’t answer.
“Is he?” I half-shouted it this time, rage making me desperate.
Ryder drew in a deep breath. I felt it as his chest moved against my back. A ragged sigh escaped him as he whispered, “Yes. He’s my son.”
I trembled and huddled in myself, my mind briefly going completely and utterly blank. I found my strength though and jerked away from him, spinning around to face him.
“I can’t do this,” I said, shaking my head.
“This…Breanna, this isn’t what you think,” he said in an unsteady voice. “Just…will you let me explain?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away, wondering just how he could explain this, how he could make it better.
“His mother is dead,” Ryder said into the silence.
I jerked my head around, staring at him in shock. As if that motivated him, he continued to talk. “That was her friend who brought the baby last week. She…her name’s DeLaria. The baby’s mother…Nathalie…we met each other in Spain a couple years ago.”
I leaned back against the wall, arms still wrapped around my midsection. Sagging against the support at my back, I closed my eyes.
I really didn’t want to hear this.
But at the same time, I couldn’t quite find it in me to move away.
“Nathalie and I…we clicked right from the first. I was in Barcelona for a vacation when I met her, and I just…I couldn’t leave.”
I could feel the intense way he watched me, but I didn’t dare look up from the floor.
“She was there with her friend, DeLaria. They were both on vacation too. She was only supposed to be there a couple of weeks, like me. But after we met…I couldn’t leave. I talked her into moving into an apartment with me. We were…happy.”
I closed my eyes at this.
We were happy. Such simple words, and they cut at me because I already knew there was no happy ending here.
Maybe not for any of us.
“We’d been there four months. I was going to ask her to marry me.”
I flinched at that. I couldn’t stop it.
A shadow fell over me, and I jerked upright, staring at Ryder. He stood in front of me now, a hand outstretched. But when I just stared at him, he let his hand fall back to his side. He had a tight look on his face, an expression I’d never seen before.
“I had it all planned out,” he said, speaking more woodenly now. He turned away from me and paced over to one of the windows that framed the door.
I darted a look at that door and wondered if I could get out of there without him stopping me.
He turned his head and stared at me with expressionless eyes, like he knew exactly what I’d been thinking.
“I had a ring,” he said into the silence.
I drew in a breath.
“I made dinner – her favorite. She’d taught me how to make it.”
I forced my lungs to expel the breath I’d taken as the voices in my head screamed louder. You don’t want to know this…
But I couldn’t make myself walk toward that door either.
“I got to the home we’d been renting, and she wasn’t there.” He was no longer looking at me. Instinct told me that he wasn’t looking at anything outside either. His gaze was locked on something only he could see. “The whole place was…empty. I didn’t worry at first. I thought she might have gone for a run, or to the store. But time passed. I tried calling her but heard the phone ringing from inside. I went looking around the house, and there was…I found a note.”
He sucked in a deep breath then spun to face me.
“She’d worried the entire time that her family might come after her. I didn’t think she was serious. Shit like that doesn’t really happen, right?” He laughed bitterly at his own words, then lapsed into silence.
“What are you talking about?” I asked after he’d remained quiet far too long.
His gaze connected with mine. “Nathalie was Muslim. DeLaria’s Muslim as well, but her family is more…modernized. Not quite so traditional. But Nathalie, her family was angry with her. Angry with her for living with me and us not being married, angry with her for being with a westerner – and a white man at that. I wasn’t Muslim. I wasn’t anybody her family would view as acceptable.”
He lifted his head to the ceiling, staring at it hard. “I knew she was upset about how her family had cut her off – they wouldn’t return her phone calls or anything. But she told me she wanted to be with me, no matter what. I thought the worst of it was over.”
Abruptly, he turned on his heel and strode into the other room, a large sitting room with a window that faced out over the front of his property. Uneasily, I followed.
He stopped at the bar service set up on the far wall, and I watched as he poured himself some scotch.
“Want some?” he asked.
I shook my head. If I had a drink, I just m
ight puke it up. My throat was so tight, I thought it might be hard for me to even form words.
He tossed the liquor back, then poured himself some more.
“I found a note,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “Nathalie had left me. She told me there was more at stake now than just us, and she had to leave. She told me not to look for her.”
He laughed, a bitter sound without humor. “I did look, of course. What else was I supposed to do?” His gaze swept the room and finally landed back on me. “But I couldn’t find her. Eventually, I gave up and came back home. She’d made it clear, after all. She’d left me, and we were over.”
He dropped down into a chair.
I edged my way into the room and selected the seat opposite his. A coffee table separated us.
It felt like a giant, gaping chasm.
A part of me wanted to close that distance and comfort him. I held myself still.
“I didn’t know about the baby,” he said, voice low. He looked at me then, his gaze compelling and intense. “I had no idea. If I’d known, I would have torn Europe apart to find them both. But I didn’t know. She just found out…” He blew out a breath and reached up to rub his eyes. “DeLaria told me she just found out that day – the day I was going to propose.”
I couldn’t keep from wincing, but I ducked my head, hoping to keep him from seeing it. Talk about lousy timing.
“That same day, DeLaria got a hold of Nathalie – her brother had started making threats. People had discovered that Nathalie had stayed in Barcelona to be with me.” A grim smile curled his lips, and he averted his gaze. “Her family was very, very traditional and for an unmarried woman to live with a man…”
I didn’t know much of anything about the Muslim culture, but even I knew that was bad.
“Her brother claimed he was going to hunt Nathalie down and kill her so he could restore the family’s honor,” Ryder said bluntly. “All because she fell in love with me and wanted to be with me, he wanted to kill her. DeLaria took him seriously and got a hold of Nathalie to warn her. That was when Nathalie told her she was pregnant.”
