by Karin Tabke
He looked around the kitchen, saw the bowl with the broken oozy egg and the piece of half-eaten cheese. Without a word, he unfolded his long arms, crossed to the refrigerator and opened it. He looked over his shoulder at her and said, “How do you expect to have the energy to strip if you don’t eat a nourishing breakfast?”
She stood and slammed the door shut. “I have to go shopping.”
He looked around the room. “How do you afford this if you can’t afford to stock your fridge?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I can afford to feed myself, thank you very much, I just haven’t gone shopping lately. I’m a busy girl,” she lied. Well, she was busy. Between school, the club, and her other job as a research assistant to Professor Gamble, she had little time for much of anything. “Plus I have a roommate.”
His eyes sparked in surprise. “Did we keep her up last night?”
“He is gone for the next few days.”
Flynn’s eyes narrowed. “You live with a guy?”
“Yes. Is this where you tell me you don’t like me having a male roommate and that I should kick him out and find a female instead?”
He hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t like that you live with a man.”
“Why? What’s it to you?” Was he jealous?
“Have breakfast with me and we’ll discuss all of the reasons why I have a problem with it.”
Izzy backed away. Her stomach growled in protest when she said, “I think it would be better for all parties involved if I didn’t have breakfast with you and that you left now and didn’t return.”
“Better why?”
“Just because.”
Flynn moved closer. “Just because you want to jump my bones right now and you’re afraid I might say no?”
He was a mindreading Special Agent. “You’re a cocky son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
“I’m a trained observer. I read people and what I’m reading right now is that you’re hungry for a Grand Slam.”
Izzy couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. It was a deep belly laugh that felt good. It had been a long time since she felt, well, happy. He chuckled and pushed his case.
“You’re pretty when you laugh.”
“As opposed to ugly when I don’t?”
“Prettier when you laugh.” His eyes darkened. “It’s something I’m going to guess you don’t do often enough.”
Izzy sobered and shook the want for this man from her head and body. He was a complication that she couldn’t afford. He’d hurt her, he’d said so himself. That would mess with her life plan. So she perpetuated his image of her by responding with, “I’m a miserable stripper who takes her clothes off for horny men for a living. What’s there to laugh about?”
He visibly cringed.
“Exactly. Now please, go and don’t come back.”
“What if I want to return?”
Her heart did a little giddy-up. If only he returned for the right reasons. Putting her hand on her hip, she called him out. “The only reason you want to return is for sex.” And really, what was wrong with that? Considering she wanted the same thing. She was hooked on the Special that was Flynn Ryker.
He moved into her space, his body heat reaching out to her, enticing her to let down her walls. “What’s wrong with that?”
Sliding his arm around her waist, he pulled her against his chest. Her breasts smashed into the hard wall of muscle, her nipples instantly saying “good morning.” Her knees shook a little, but she stood her ground. “Nothing, except you might not want any more when I still do.”
“Hmmm, you have a valid point.” He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, “Though it could go the other way too.” Sucking her earlobe into his mouth, he flicked it with his tongue and slowly released it. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
“I’m not.”
“Sure you are. Let’s discuss this dilemma over breakfast.”
She really, really, really wanted to. But—she held her ground. “You stole my SIM card. So on principle, I can’t have breakfast with you.”
“You tried to slip me a Mickey and set me up for blackmail. I’d say that gives me the right to take it.” He picked her up and set her on the edge of the counter, pushed her knees apart and moved in between her legs. Cocking a dark brow, he asked her, “Is there anything you want to say to me?”
“You mean like, I’m sorry for trying to drug you and make a sex tape?”
“Yes.”
She shrugged and looked past his shoulder and said, “I’m sorry for trying to drug you and make a sex tape.”
“I accept your apology. Now tell me what’s bothering you, aside from your wanting to have your way with me.”
Izzy laughed again. He made her happy, and that made her feel guilty when her sister was missing. Maybe even dead. The smile died on her lips.
“I’ll help you find your sister, Pink, if you’ll let me.”
Emotion clogged her throat; all she could do at that moment was nod.
“Glad we agree on something, now have breakfast with me.”
He was persistent. “You still have my SIM card.”
“I promise to give it back, later, if you’ll have breakfast with me.”
Exhaling loudly, she shook her head. He was too much too fast; she needed time and some space to sort her thoughts and figure out some things. “I have a job in the city I need to get to.” It was a lie, but he didn’t know that.
His eyes darkened to stormy. “What kind of job?”
She pushed him off and slid to the floor. “None of your beeswax.” With that she strode to the kitchen door and opened it. “This time, please, really go.”
He stalked past her, grabbed his to-go cup, filled it, then stalked from her house. As she was about to close the door behind him, Izzy made a decision based purely on self-preservation: She needed to not see him again. Ever. He would upset her life plan and as much as she wanted him, she wasn’t going to become her mother and live her life pining for a man who had used her up and discarded her like the morning paper. That meant finding someone else to help her with her sister dilemma. So be it.
“Flynn?” she called. He turned and she saw the hope in his eyes. “I’m a stripper who breaks the law; you’re a fed who doesn’t. It won’t work, not even for a little bit. Please don’t come back here, okay?”
She watched his blue eyes cloud with disappointment, but just as quickly they shuttered his feelings. “I’ve never been the kind of guy to push himself on a woman.” He raised his cup. “Thanks for the coffee.” He turned and strode down the steps, then down the driveway.
“And don’t forget the awesome sex!” she called.
He raised the cup over his head as if applauding her statement.
“And for the cherry on top!”
He turned and grinned, and along with the raised cup, he fist-pumped with his other hand, then turned and kept walking.
“And—” she said softly, for her ears only, “for lighting up my life.”
When he turned at the end of the short driveway and continued down the street without looking back, then walked out of sight, the ponderous feeling of a boulder settling in her gut made her feel like she had to vomit. Closing the door, she ran to the bathroom and hurled what little there was in her stomach.
Chapter Nine
An hour later, Izzy sat cross-legged at the kitchen table with her laptop open and stared at her Google search of Special Agent Flynn “A for Atticus” Ryker. There were pages of references, even a Wiki page. Not because he was a fed, but because he was a Ryker, as in one of the multimillionaire Rykers of the Maryland Rykers. Oil, finance, and biotech companies were just the tip of the empire iceberg. Damn, they owned three Kentucky Derby winners! Plus a huge thoroughbred farm in Baltimore County. That was some serious money.
Though it wasn’t all sunshine and unicorns for Flynn.
She frowned. His mother, Diana Margaret Marie Forsythe, of the Boston Forsythes, was dead.
Fifteen years ago. Heart attack. Sadness filled Izzy’s heart. If Flynn loved his mother half as much as Izzy loved her mother, she knew it wasn’t something he was over.
According to the many articles that popped up in her search, Malcolm Stanley Jerome Ryker III, the Ryker patriarch, was a player. Figured. Rich, affluent men thought they were entitled to stick their dicks wherever the hell they wanted. Shades of her own sperm donor. Men like Mr. Ryker and the senator wielded their power with no regard for those they hurt. Looked like Flynn’s brother Malcolm IV was cut from the same cloth as the old man. Flynn had a sister, too. Genevieve. She’d married into another prominent Maryland family. What the hell was Flynn doing working for the government when he could be a captain of industry?
As she contemplated that, there was a knock on her back door. Before she could get up to answer it, it opened and Flynn strode in with two bulging grocery bags in his arms and two hanging off his forearms. “You should never leave your door unlocked, Pink. You expose yourself to unsavory types.”
Openmouthed, she watched him kick the door closed with his heel and proceed to set the bags down on her kitchen counter. He turned and cocked that brow at her.
“I thought you had somewhere to be an hour ago?”
“I—um, it canceled.” Setting her hands on her hips, she cocked a brow back at him. “I thought you said you didn’t push a woman, Flynn?”
“I don’t. But since you’re in denial it doesn’t count. I’m thinking it’s because you’re in need of sustenance.” He turned to unload the grocery bags. As he did, he asked, “So did you dig up all the dirt on me and my family?”
Guilty heat flared in her cheeks. “What are you talking about?”
He suppressed a smile, but pointed to the open laptop. “If I check your search history, I won’t find my name anywhere on it?”
“No¸” she said slamming the laptop closed. “Don’t flatter yourself. You became history the minute you walked out that door. I don’t know why you’re back here except to harass me.”
“I have no compassion in my heart for your request to disengage, Pink. Besides, I really didn’t want to eat alone, so I brought Denny’s to you.”
Her stomach growled and her mood softened. The last and only person to make sure she ate a good meal was her mother. “I don’t cook.”
He turned and flashed a blinding smile. “I do.”
“I ate.”
“What, air and water?”
“I had coffee. I’m not a breakfast eater.”
“Consider this brunch. Now tell me what you dug up on me.”
“Nothing.”
“C’mon Pink,” he cajoled as he opened the cupboard to the left of her sink and found the only mixing bowl she possessed. Then he opened a drawer and took out several utensils. Easily he continued to work his way around her kitchen. “We both know you’ve been pouty since I left.”
“Have not.”
He looked over his shoulder and smiled again. Damn he was good looking. “Have too.”
He cracked a half a dozen eggs into the bowl and added some spices and green stuff and milk and whipped them up. Setting the bowl aside, he fired up the griddle she didn’t know they had and placed several large sausage patties on it along with thick-cut bacon. Her mouth watered. Like a magician, he opened a white bag and pulled out the biggest, yummiest-looking chocolate croissant she had ever seen. Her favorite. Her mother used to make them for her and Alex when they were little, along with homemade hot chocolate. They’d pour the chocolate into their teacups, nibble on the buttery croissants, and speak with French accents. They’d been tres chic!
Flynn set it on a plate and placed it in front of her. “Tell me you don’t want it.”
Oh she wanted it all right and him for dessert. “I don’t want it.”
He reached to take it away, but she grabbed his hand, staying it. “That doesn’t mean I won’t eat it.”
He nodded. “That’s my girl.”
His girl? Warmth infused her. Commit her now, because she was losing it.
As he cooked breakfast, she tried not to inhale the buttery chocolate decadence, but to eat it slowly and savor it. The aroma of sausage, bacon, and the herb-flavored omelet he was cooking was doing crazy things to her stomach. Chewing the last bit of croissant, she sat back and watched him move like a five-star chef in her kitchen.
“Where did you learn to cook?” she asked.
“Francois, our family chef. He couldn’t cook fast enough for me, so he taught me how to cook for myself.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“Why are you asking me questions you already know the answer to?”
“Fine, I snooped. Arrest me.”
“I still might.”
Ignoring his comment, she said, “So you went to Columbia business?”
“Yup.”
“Why did you decide not to go into the family business?”
He turned with two heaping plates of food. Setting one down in front of her and the other across from her, he poured them each a fresh cup of coffee before he sat down. “I did, actually, for a few years. I was bored. A college friend tapped me for the FBI and I figured why the hell not? The rest is history.”
“Do you miss the money?”
He chewed and shook his head. “Nothing to miss.”
Her brows crunched. He explained. “My mother left me all of her money. There’s a lot of it.”
“So you don’t have to work?”
“Yes I have to work. I love what I do. If I didn’t work I’d get into trouble and that’s not something I want to do.”
“Trouble how?”
“Boredom breeds trouble. I don’t like to be bored and I don’t like to get into trouble. I keep my nose clean and work my ass off for my government salary.”
“But you know if you lost your job you’d be okay.”
“Okay how? Financially? Money isn’t everything, Pink.”
“Says the man who has as much as God.”
He nodded. “There’s truth to that.”
“How do you know I didn’t let you back in to finagle a few bucks out of you?”
His brows rose before settling. “We both know how your last attempt at extortion turned out.” He set his fork down on his plate. “You want to try again, go right ahead.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“I’ll give you whatever you need, just tell me.”
“I don’t need it. I’m doing fine.”
“Stripping?”
“I cocktail mostly.”
“Last night you stripped.”
She nodded. “Last night I stripped.”
“How is it that both of Senator Chastain’s daughters are strippers?”
“I’m sure you did your own Google search while you were out shopping.”
“I made a few calls, did a quick search, but nothing popped up on you, only your sister. Who, by the way, according the federal, local, and state databases, isn’t officially missing.”
“You checked?”
“I told you I would help you.”
“I didn’t think daddy dearest would chance letting word get out that his only child was dancing at the Surf’s Up club, but I thought he would go quietly to the authorities and have them look for her when she disappeared. Or at the very least hire a PI or something. But for the almost three months I’ve been at the Surf’s Up, there has been no inquiry that I know of about her. Except me.”
“So they were estranged?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t keep in touch.”
“I’m intrigued that a senator’s daughter who hasn’t surfaced in over three months isn’t missing, according to her family. I’ll have more to go on when I get back to my office.”
“Would you personally ask my father where she is? And when he says he doesn’t know, ask him how long he hasn’t known?”
“I’ll dig deeper into it, Pink. I promise.”
“I’d really appreciate that.”
“What new phone?” He bought her a phone? Why?
He stood and dug through one of the bags and removed a small white box with an apple on it. He set it on the table. It was a brand new iPhone. She’d wanted one for forever, but couldn’t afford it. Her little Samsung was four years old.
He slid the box in front of her. “I used your SIM card to activate it. You still have your number and all of your data except texts and the video.”
She pushed the box across the table toward him. “I can’t accept this. I’ll keep my old phone, it works fine.”
Standing, he said, “Excuse me for a sec.” Then strode from the kitchen. A minute later Flynn returned with her cell phone, then proceeded to drop it on the floor. It broke into several pieces.
“Hey!”
As she stood to pick up the pieces, he crushed the main piece under his heel, destroying it. “Oops, I’m sorry I broke your phone.” He walked back to the table and sat down and pushed the box toward her. “Please accept my apology and this replacement phone and the two year replacement plan that goes with it.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She wanted to be angry, but he just made it so hard to be. “That was uncalled for.”
“You’re stubborn, Pink. Lighten up and let me help you out, okay?”
“Why?”
He grinned. “Because I want to have sex with you again. Really bad.”
His words had the same effect as if she’d been shocked. Her nipples tightened while warmth pooled at her core. She didn’t know what to say.
“Emperor penguins bring shiny rocks to the females they want to mate with,” Flynn said, then pointed to the new phone. “That’s my shiny rock. I hope you like it.”
Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide.
“I know you want the same thing.” He pulled his chair around so that their knees touched. “I think we need to come up with some terms for our lust. What do you think?”
Izzy could hardly breathe. She wanted to jump in his lap and get down to business.
He rubbed his big warm hands across her knees and said quietly, “Sex aside, I want to help you find your sister.”
