Ryder

by Diana Gardin

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Diana Gardin

  Cover design by Yoly Cortez

  Cover copyright © 2019 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

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  Forever Yours

  Hachette Book Group

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  New York, NY 10104

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  First published as an ebook and as a print on demand: February 2019

  Forever Yours is an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. The Forever Yours name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

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  ISBN: 978-1-5387-6260-8 (ebook), 978-1-5387-6258-5 (trade paperback POD)

  E3-20181218-DA

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue: FRANCESCA

  1: THORN

  2: FRANNIE

  3: RYDER

  4: FRANNIE

  5: RYDER

  6: FRANNIE

  7: RYDER

  8: FRANNIE

  9: FRANNIE

  10: RYDER

  11: FRANNIE

  12: FRANNIE

  13: RYDER

  14: FRANNIE

  15: FRANNIE

  16: RYDER

  17: FRANNIE

  18: RYDER

  19: FRANNIE

  20: RYDER

  21: FRANNIE

  22: RYDER

  23: FRANNIE

  24: RYDER

  25: FRANNIE

  26: RYDER

  27: RYDER

  28: FRANNIE

  29: RYDER

  Epilogue: RYDER

  About the Author

  Also by Diana Gardin

  You Might Also Like...

  Newsletters

  Acknowledgments

  First of all, I’d like to thank God, who gave me the desire and skill to write.

  Thank you to my family, who are always there for me when I put down my computer and unplug from all things writing. I’m so thankful they’re along for this ride with me. Superman, Carrington, and Raleigh, everything I do is for you.

  Thank you to my agent, Stacey Donaghy. You are more than an agent: You are my friend, and I’m so very thankful to have found you. I am even more thankful that you’re always on my side.

  To my fabulous editor, Lexi Smail: I adore working with you! You have such an understanding of where I want each character to go, and sometimes it’s scary because I’m worried you might actually be reading my mind. You’re the best.

  To the team at Forever Romance: You are all such a well-oiled machine. From editing, to copyediting, to cover design and all the other inner workings I don’t even get to see, you are all fabulous and I’m lucky to be a part of it all. Thank you for your efforts on my behalf!

  To my favorite sounding board and the girl who’s become one of my very best friends, Sybil Bartel: I don’t know how it happened, but you’re like the other half of my writing brain. You’re there at all hours of the day and night, whether I need to get an idea out or I’m completely out of them. I only hope I help you as much as you help me! Love you, girl.

  To the very best group of writers a girl could ever ask for, the NAC: Ara, Meredith, Kate, Bindu, Sophia, Laura, Missy, Jessica, Amanda, Jamie, Marie, and Marnee—you are my favorite source of sanity. Without you, this business would have ended me long ago! Love y’all!

  To the authors I admire so very much and who are always willing to help me in any way they can, through promo, visibility for my books in their groups, or just an ear to listen when I need it: You’ll never know how much you mean to me! Thank you so much to Rachel Van Dyken, Heidi McLaughlin, Susan Stoker, Willow Winters, K.A. Tucker, Jay Crownover, Jennifer L. Berg, J.B. Salsbury, Jo Raven, Lia Riley, Megan Erickson, and Brighton Walsh.

  To an assistant I’ve learned I cannot live without, Jessica Shapnaka: You are willing to do so much for me, and all because you love my books. Thank you not only for being a fabulous assistant, but for being an amazing friend! I love you!

  To my lovely review team: You are all so dedicated and I am awed by you! Thank you for reading my books ahead of time, and more than that, thank you for loving them! Your reviews drive my career, and without them I wouldn’t be able to continue doing what I love. Thank you so much!

  To the Dolls—the best fan group a girl could ask for: Talking to you guys every day, sharing my fictional world with you, receiving your feedback, it all keeps me going! You all recharge me and refuel me when I need it, and your support and positivity make this job so much more fun! Thank you all for being you!

  To the bloggers who have supported me throughout this journey: There are too many of you to name, but you know who you are. You have read every single book, given me great reviews, and shared my work with as many people as you can. I couldn’t do any of this without your help and your enthusiasm. A thousand thank-yous.

  And last but never least, to the readers who find their way to Wilmington, North Carolina, to hang out with the sexy men of Night Eagle Security and the women who are strong enough to love them. I hope you fall in love with this world as much as I have, because without you, I’d be nothing. <3

  Prologue

  FRANCESCA

  One Year Ago

  I hurry out of the double front doors, leaving them wide open behind me as I hop down the massive stone front steps in my bare feet. The deliveryman grins as he views what must look like crazed excitement on my face, my arms spread wide for my little package.

  “It’s here!” My voice rises in a squeal. “Thank you so much!”

  My house is a frequent stop on the driver’s route, thanks to Eli’s strange desire for me to shop online rather than in stores. The deliveryman touches the side of his hat in an exaggerated gentleman’s gesture. No more than a year or two older than I am, he’s never seemed daunted by the enormous mansion standing behind me when I open the door for a delivery.

  “I’m just dropping off, Mrs. Ward. You doin’ all right today?”

  Knowing what’s inside my brown parcel makes my smile extra sunny. “Just fine, Dex. Thanks for asking! I hope you don’t have too many deliveries to make today.”

  Dex’s smile widens until his dimple shows. He’s a handsome guy, but I’ve never had eyes for anyone but Eli. No matter that his jealous streak might say otherwise. In the past six months, Eli’s been watching me extra closely, and every time I even make eye contact with a man, he nearly loses his mind. It’s such a drastic change from the sweet, loving way he treated me when we first met.

  The first time he hit me, I didn’t see it coming. It was after a party last New Year’s Eve, the first since we’d been married. I’d had two glasses of champagne, and my best friend’s husband and I had jovially made a go of it on the dance floor to c
elebrate the New Year rolling in. Eli had cut our night short afterward, and we’d just made it to the car when he’d thrown me up against it and grabbed me by the throat. Hitting me full across the face, he’d accused me of wanting to sleep with my best friend’s husband.

  I’d been in shock, unable to think straight, while he’d shoved me into the bushes and begun to choke me. It was only the sound of the front door opening at the house beside us that made him drag me into the car. His rage had been so great, so out of control, I’m not sure I would have survived that first attack had that person not opened their door.

  Afterward, he’d cried. It was the first time I’d seen him shed a tear, and he’d been so ashamed, so devastated by his behavior that he’d sworn he’d never hurt me that way again.

  I’d sworn to him I’d be more careful, that I’d never give him a reason to doubt me.

  But now? Now I’m sure everything will change. I place a hand over my belly and stare with love down at the cardboard box clutched in my hands.

  “I’ll finish in no time.” Dex’s glance moves away from me to settle on the long driveway, where the sound of a car pulling in draws both of our attention.

  Eli’s Range Rover disappears into one of the four garages, and Dex gives me a wave. “Looks like your husband is home early today.”

  I nod, distracted. I wasn’t expecting Eli until this evening. Dex climbs into his truck, which is sitting in the circular portion of the driveway in front of the house, and I turn to go inside.

  Closing the front doors behind me, I hurry into the kitchen, opening the package in my hands as I walk. Pulling out a white onesie, I finger the soft cotton as I hold it up and read the golden lettering:

  our precious gift

  I purchased the onesie and had it monogrammed to use in baby announcement photos. It’s how Eli and I are going to tell our family and friends that we’re three months pregnant with our first child.

  The door between the kitchen and the garage closes, and I glance up to see Eli standing there.

  Holding up the onesie, I feel joy bubble up in my chest. “Look, babe! Look what just came! Now that I’m out of the first trimester, we can finally share our news with everyone we love.”

  Over the past year of marriage, I’ve shoved aside every warning bell that’s been screaming at me to rethink my relationship with Eli. Our courtship was a whirlwind. His money and his power in our little Oklahoma city aren’t what swept me off my feet. He was a businessman eight years older than my twenty-two years when we met, and I was amazed that he was showing me so much attention. He lavished me with gifts and trips, but that’s not what blew me away. What got to me was how much he zeroed in on the fact that all I wanted was a family. Someone to come home to at night and cherish. Someone to love and call my own. My parents have always been self-absorbed, wrapped up in their own wants and materialistic desires. I’ve never felt like I’m the center of the world, and Eli understood that. When he came into my life, I finally had a partner, someone to share everything with. We were married within a year.

  Even when he put his hands on me, I refused to give up that feeling of belonging.

  But now that I’m carrying his baby? I know all that will be over. We’re starting fresh. I’ll finally see the man I fell in love with at his best, and his jealous streak will be over. He’ll know that he and our child are the center of my life, and we’ll be a happy, loving family.

  We have to be.

  Eli, still standing just inside the kitchen door, doesn’t move. He stares at me, his eyes not even dropping to glance at the precious bundle of cotton in my hands. My stomach clenches at the stony expression on his face. My husband is handsome, his dark hair slicked back in a smooth style. But when he looks like this…all I feel is icy fear.

  “I saw you flirting with him.” Eli’s voice is quiet, laced with a razor edge.

  The first time I heard him talk like this, we were walking out of that New Year’s Eve party. I hadn’t recognized it as a sign of what was to come. But now, I know.

  I take a step backward, my hand immediately going to my stomach. My other fist clutches the onesie a little bit tighter, holding it out as a peace offering. My voice pleads with my husband, and even as I beg, I hate myself for it.

  This is wrong, Francesca. You should never have to beg someone not to hurt you.

  I clear my throat. “I wasn’t flirting with him, Eli. I was being polite.” Despite the flurry of my heartbeat, my words are firm.

  It’s something I’ve never been able to be with Eli in the past, not when his face has looked like a thundercloud rolling across a prairie. But I have to be strong now, and not just for me.

  For my baby.

  Eli launches himself forward, advancing on me so quickly I don’t have time to move out of the way. He pins me against the wall behind me with a hand to my sternum, knocking the wind out of me. My head slams against the wall so hard stars dance before my eyes. He doesn’t remove his gaze from mine as he reaches down and yanks the onesie from my grip.

  Holding it up, he finally looks at it. “You’re carrying my baby, Francesca.” Spit gathers at the corners of his mouth as his rage builds. “But you were looking at him like you wanted to fuck him on my front lawn!”

  My eyes wide, I shake my head. My voice goes hoarse. “That’s crazy, Eli—”

  His fist lands against my jaw, sending a white-hot lance of pain screaming through my face. He releases me, and I crumple to the floor.

  “You’re a goddamned slut!” Eli screams.

  When he screams, I know he’s lost every ounce of control he has.

  Tears cloud my vision.

  “The baby,” I sob. “Eli, please.”

  Please, no. No.

  Help me.

  I turn my head just in time to see the toe of Eli’s boot pull back, and I try to turn onto my other side. I only make it onto my back, and he kicks me in the soft flesh between my ribs and hip.

  I scream. Hoping it’ll save my baby’s life, even though I know our house is located on five acres of property and the neighbors won’t hear me, I let out a bloodcurdling scream loud enough to wake the dead.

  Eli squats down beside me and yanks my waist-length blond ponytail so hard I feel some pieces separate from my head by the roots.

  His face looms over mine. “I don’t know why I bother with you. But you’re my wife, and you’re going to learn how to present yourself. You’re going to regret making me angry enough to hurt you this way.”

  His face blurs as my eyes begin to close, and I know I’m losing consciousness. I just want to know if the baby I’m carrying is okay, and I think about my cell phone sitting on top of the kitchen island just a few feet away. I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood.

  “I’m leaving now. When you’re feeling better, get yourself cleaned up. I don’t ever want to come home and see my wife making eyes at the fucking UPS man again.”

  Without looking at me again, he releases my hair and lets my head crack against the marble floor.

  I listen to the sound of his footsteps walking away, and it seems like it takes forever for them to cross the kitchen and disappear out the garage door. As soon as the noise of his big SUV engine is gone, I raise my voice to trigger the voice-activated dialing on my phone.

  “Nine-One-One, what’s your emergency?”

  A strangled sob escapes me. Am I really about to do this?

  A sharp pain in my belly causes me to double over, and the woman on the line repeats her question.

  “Help me,” I scream. “My husband beat me. I’m lying on my kitchen floor, and I’m three months pregnant. Send an ambulance!”

  1

  THORN

  “I want to help her. I really do, Boss Man. But I don’t want to be a babysitter.” When I glance toward the door, the heat from the warm, sexy little body on the other side floats toward me.

  You’re losing your shit already, Ryder. Body heat can’t travel through solid wood doors.


  “Wolf.” Jacob Owen, my boss at Night Eagle Security, leans forward on the table and holds me in one of his notoriously scrutinizing stares. The other guys, my Delta Squad team, remain silent as they watch the exchange. Jacob continues, “How many times have I asked you to run point on a mission?”

  My shoulders sink under the weight of his question. Jacob Owen has been everything to me since I left the SEALs. Father figure, superior, confidant. Along with the men I call my brothers, this company and Jacob have been my entire life since I left the Navy behind. Giving me purpose. Giving me a place to breathe and call my own.

  “This is the first, sir.”

  Jacob stares, gray eyes not giving away a damn thing. “Are you really going to turn that down?”

  I open my mouth to tell him of course I’m not, but he lifts a hand, not done with me yet. “And since when has NES been in the business of ‘babysitting’? The company that I built from the ground up, the one that started with personal security and has now grown into a company that the government calls for private black-ops contracts, isn’t good enough for you to run point on a mission I deem necessary?”

  It’s worse than being screamed at by your commanding officer during SEAL training. It’s worse than being told how much you’ve disappointed your dad. This is Jacob, the Boss Man. And I’ll be damned if I’ll be the one to let him down.

  “I’m sorry, sir. That’s not what I mean. I just—”

  Jacob isn’t ready for me to talk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of my best friends and teammates wince as Boss Man’s voice lifts. “And do you realize how important this assignment is? It’s partly our fault that Ms. Phillips is in this predicament to begin with.”

  I glance up at that one, fire lighting inside my gut. “Actually—”

  Jacob cuts me off with a glance that could slice a block of ice. “She didn’t know we were investigating her husband, because they were estranged. Because he beat the shit out of her.”

  I swallow, my insides going numb at the thought of Frannie, the woman in question, being beaten to a pulp by that piece of shit.