Ryder stopped and steadied the heavy bag as it swung toward him. “I’m waiting for a call from the agents on the case.” Even to his own ears, the explanation sounded strained.
Danvers walked over and held the bag for him. “She’s coming, is that it?”
“Do you have a problem with this, Danvers?”
“Melissa.”
He muttered a confused “Huh?”
“Melissa. My name is Melissa. You used to call me that all the time when I was a kid, but ever since…” She didn’t need to say more. From the day her mother and father had died a few years ago, she had stopped being Melissa and become the latest Danvers. He hadn’t realized that she might resent that change in their relationship.
He jabbed her arm playfully with his gloved hand to try to lighten her mood. “Come on, Melissa.”
She yanked away from him. “No. Things haven’t been the same since…” She stepped away from him and walked out the door onto the patio. Ryder followed and stood by her until she sighed and quietly said, “I’ve known you all my life, Ryder. You were always there to listen to me. Hear what I had to say. But lately…”
“I’m your friend, Melissa.”
Melissa glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You were my friend, Ryder. Now I’m not quite sure what we’re supposed to be. Or what my life is supposed to be or if I’m even supposed to have a life of my own.”
Ryder regretted that in all the time since she had become his companion he had never noticed how uneasy she was with her new role. “I’m sorry we haven’t talked about this before.”
She shrugged. “What’s there to talk about? One Danvers dies and another is chosen.”
“It’s not that simple—”
“No, it isn’t. Because being the next one involves not being able to have a normal life,” she shot back angrily.
“There’s no reason why you can’t—”
“Be involved with someone? The way you’re involved?”
“You know my being involved with a human—”
“Could never happen?” she parried, and faced him, her gaze penetrating and challenging. “Then why is she coming over?”
“She has questions to ask.”
“Seems to me you’re headed for trouble having her here, especially with the way you feel.”
“And maybe it’s time I took the chance. The same way that maybe you should think about what kind of life you want. Whether or not you want to continue to be my keeper,” he said, hating that their relationship had taken this sudden turn. One which he really didn’t know how to deal with. No other Danvers had ever had doubts about their role, but then again, no other Danvers had been so young, or single, or female.
“Maybe I should think about it. But what about Diana Reyes? If I’m any judge of women, she’s attracted to you and thinking about taking it further. Will you tell her your deep, dark secret?” Melissa asked softly, obviously aware that her questions might draw blood.
Ryder took a deep breath and raked his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “I…care about Diana. In all the time I’ve been a vampire, I’ve never felt this way before. There’s something driving me. Telling me I have to protect her. Be with her. It’s as if it was somehow fated to be this way,” he explained, wanting to restore his friendship with Melissa with that confession. “Haven’t you ever felt that way?”
She looked up at him then, and her pain sliced into him. “Never, Ryder. In all my life, I have never felt that way.”
Ryder drew Melissa into his arms and held her. She returned the embrace, much as she had when she was a small child and needed comfort when it was lacking from her parents.
After a minute or so, she pulled out of his arms. “I can’t say that I’m not worried about this, Ryder. But as your friend, and as someone who cares about you…be careful. This is dangerous ground.”
He nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, strolling with her to the French doors. “Thank you, Melissa.”
When she reached the doors, she turned. “If it comes time to…Check the nightstand, Ryder. We wouldn’t want any messy vampire paternity suits,” she teased.
He smiled, appreciating her strength and maturity. He dropped a brotherly kiss on her cheek as she entered the apartment and thought about her revelation. Maybe tonight she would meet someone interesting at her lecture, or after, at the hospital. Someone who could give her the love and happiness she deserved.
Chapter 15
Ryder’s address was for a large apartment building on Sixty-sixth Street right off of Second Avenue. Upon entering the elevator, she realized Ryder was on the next-to-highest floor. Once she stepped out, it became clear he owned the whole space. She wondered how well the club did to allow for digs like these.
When he opened the door, it was apparent he had been working out. He wore sweats that rode low on his hips and a gray cotton T-shirt marked with sweat. Beads of perspiration dotted his face, and he wiped at them with the towel slung loosely around his neck. “Sorry if I’m a little messy. You caught me at a bad time.”
Diana pointed to her own clothes, which were similar to his. “I was on my way to the gym, too, but this couldn’t wait. Thanks for letting me come by.”
“Let’s get on with this then.” Ryder stepped aside and motioned her into the apartment.
She was even more surprised by his wealth when she walked in. The staircase at one end of the large, spacious room meant that he had the two upper stories of the building. “Win the lottery?” she questioned, glancing around and taking note of the fine antiques and artwork she suspected weren’t reproductions. The elegant Old World–style pieces managed to blend harmoniously with the very severe and modern architecture of the physical space.
Ryder appeared unruffled by her query as he answered, “Old family money. Besides, I have a roommate—Melissa Danvers, the doctor who treated you at the club the other day. She’s an old family friend.”
Diana experienced an unexpected surge of jealousy as she thought of Ryder sharing his apartment with another woman. She tamped it down but couldn’t help wondering whether or not Ryder’s roommate would mind Diana’s presence. “Is she going to be around tonight?”
“She’s…out and it’s strictly platonic.”
“Really. That’s hard to believe,” Diana began, a hard edge of annoyance in her voice as she walked past him and slapped the envelope with the photos against his chest. “So, here they are.”
Ryder grabbed the envelope. If anyone had a right to be angry, it was he after her earlier dismissal of his involvement in the case. But despite that, he couldn’t drag his gaze from the soft fleece of her sweats hugging her shapely hips, nor the cotton tank top molding itself to her breasts. What a shame tonight was going to be only about business, he thought. “Make yourself at home while I look at these,” he said, and she settled herself on the couch in his living room.
He sat on the arm of a love seat while he pulled the photos out of the envelope and examined them. He had seen this man around, and often. But no name came to him. “I know him, but…I can’t think of whether I’ve seen him at the club or elsewhere. He’s really familiar. I know it’ll come to me.” He slipped the photos into the envelope and gave it back to her. “Did you get the bouncers to look at the photos yet?”
“David is trying to track them down now.” She hesitated and juggled the envelope in her hands. “I guess I should go. If you remember anything else—”
“I’ll call,” he said, and rose, but she didn’t move toward the door. Maybe she was as unsure of what to do as he was. “Going back to the office?”
“Yes. I’m going to try to get in that workout before David calls.”
He told himself there wasn’t an expectant look on her face. One that said, “Ask me to stay.” He had to grab both ends of the towel to keep from touching her, to keep himself in check. It was a useless battle. “You could work out here, with me,” he offered.
When she hesitated, he prom
pted, “Well?” trying to appear cool and calm, although he knew his uncertainty and eagerness for her company were clear.
“Yes.” He unsuccessfully fought down a smile. He invited her to follow him and led her into an upper hall. In front of them, at the far end, was a set of French doors. Diana followed him onto the terrace but stopped in the center to take in the plethora of flowers, bushes and dwarf trees beautifying the space.
She recognized the oleanders in the large pots along one wall of the patio. Their branches were filled with large bunches of pink and white blossoms. At the bottom of each container, bright purple petunias cascaded downward toward the slate floor. In a larger trio of planters on the opposite wall, pines and cedars mingled harmoniously, and again, there were more blossoms, this time vivid orange and yellow marigolds. The entire patio and its flora had been carefully planned and positioned to give the illusion of a much larger space.
The views of Manhattan from the rooftop-garden paradise were just as tempting. She walked to the edge of the patio, leaned her hands on the railing and took in the panorama of the East Side of Manhattan, the Queensboro Bridge and the tip of Queens. “This is gorgeous,” she told him as he joined her at the metal railing.
“Thanks. I enjoy working with my hands.” Ryder sensed she was incredulous of his gardening claims, but she said nothing. “Would you like a glass of wine, or maybe something to eat before you work out?”
Facing him, she folded her arms across her chest. “Trying to delay my leaving?”
“Oh, I think I’ve already succeeded at that. After all, you did agree to stay and exercise.”
“Maybe that was a mistake. Maybe I should go.” She lifted her chin up defiantly, almost in challenge.
“Why is it that you seem to prefer to fuss and feud rather than enjoy my company?”
Diana chuckled and moved her head back and forth slowly, almost in disbelief. “Ryder, that Southern charm may work on some women—”
“But not on you. So why are you staying, then?” He cradled her cheek.
“I’m busy asking myself that same thing. Maybe I should just go and prove that I can deal with you.”
“You think you can handle me? Sorry, darlin’—”
“I can handle you in every way imaginable, Ryder. What will it take to prove that to you?” she asked, and stepped away from his touch.
“Show me…if you can.” He knew she couldn’t resist the challenge, and he held his hand out in the direction of the French doors.
Once inside, Ryder took the lead, striding quickly to the spacious room that held various types of gym equipment, the punching bag and a large open area with a mat where he normally practiced his limited knowledge of martial arts with Melissa, who had just taken up tai chi.
Diana walked over to the universal gym and ran her hand along the gleaming metal of the equipment. “I guess you don’t get out much.”
He shrugged, slipped off his sneakers and took a position in the center of the mat. “With my hours, I can’t rely on the gym. It made sense to set this up so I could exercise whenever I wanted.”
Diana strolled to the edge of the mat and took off her sneakers, leaving only bright white socks on her feet.
But she didn’t remove the heavy gold chain around her neck. The one that draped into the valley between her ample breasts.
He took hold of the chain and met her questioning gaze. “Gold chains make excellent garrotes, I’m told.”
“Really?” she challenged, seemingly aware of that fact. She brushed his hands away to undo the clasp, and as she eased the chain off, he noticed the crucifix and medallions. Reaching out, he grasped the religious medals in his hand. There was no burn. Not even the slightest hint of discomfort. It was the first time he’d gotten this close, although he’d been exposed to such religious items at the various funerals of his keepers. He’d been a God-fearing man as a human and hadn’t changed his beliefs upon being turned, although he was bothered by the role God had chosen for him. He assumed his faith was why the crucifix didn’t repel him. “Do you still believe?”
Sadness clouded her face as he continued to hold the chain and medals.
“I haven’t in a while. Not since my dad. I wear them more out of habit than anything.” She wasn’t sure she could deal with talking about her father. Especially not with Ryder. That would mean taking their relationship to another level. A dangerous level. She rubbed at the scar on her ribs and eased the chain from Ryder’s hands.
He laid his hand over hers as she rubbed at her side. She met his gaze and hated the understanding she saw there. It weakened her defenses.
“May I?” He didn’t wait for her response before he eased up the edge of her shirt and exposed the ridge of scar along her lower ribs.
As he traced the shape of it with his index finger she sucked in a shaky breath. “Don’t…please, don’t.”
It was a familiar plea and one that he clearly intended to ignore as he continued to trace the scar with his fingers. “Don’t make you feel again? Your father died, but you didn’t. You’re alive and—”
She shoved him away. “What do you know about it, Ryder? What could you possibly know about the pain of losing someone like that?”
“Like how?” He came after her as she walked to the edge of the mat, grabbing her arm to stop her flight.
“Let go, Ryder.” Diana glared at him, but he only seemed amused by her admonition. “I mean it.”
He laughed harshly and dropped her arm. “You can’t handle me, love, ’cause you can’t even handle yourself.”
“I’ll show you just how easily I can, and after I kick your ass—”
“I’ll leave you alone? Is that what you really want, darlin’?”
Diana quickly assumed a warrior’s stance, legs braced slightly apart and bent to allow her to spring into action, her fists held up loosely but in a ready position. “When I win, Ryder, you will get the hell out of my life.”
“If you win,” he corrected her.
“You will leave me alone.”
He assumed a fighting position and she started to circle, keeping an eye on him.
“We’ll see” was all he said as he mirrored her movement, intent on avoiding her.
“Promise, Ryder, or we go no further and I ask that you get placed in a cell somewhere as a material witness.” She dropped her fists to her hips and lifted her stubborn little chin.
The tone of her voice told him she was totally serious, but Ryder wasn’t about to let her get away. “Since you are so eager to have your ass whupped…I promise that if you win, I will back off.” It was a lie, and he sensed she knew it but wanted the confrontation anyway.
With that acknowledgement from him, she sprang into action. She quickly unleashed a series of jabs, but he blocked each one and then countered with a hook.
She evaded the punch, surprised him by slipping in under his swing and delivered a punishing shot to his ribs before backpedaling out of his reach. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Darlin’, you’re just managing to prove one thing to me.” He moved toward her on the balls of his feet and shot out a fist that she blocked with her forearm before dancing out of his reach.
“What’s that?” she asked as she attempted a jab but found her wrist encircled by his larger hand.
He hauled her close, her body bumping into his as he growled into her face, “That you’re dangerous because you don’t recognize your own weaknesses.” When Ryder finished, he flung her away, dropped low and swept her legs out from under her.
She landed hard on the mat. He was about to move in, but she quickly did a flip, using the kick of her legs to create enough impetus to pull her upper body off the mat. She was immediately back on her feet and in a ready position, catching him off guard as he came at her.
Her kick landed square in the center of his chest and knocked him off balance, leaving him totally vulnerable to the roundhouse kick she delivered to his head. He dropped to one knee on the mat, but
knew she could have hurt him much more seriously, for the roundhouse had lacked force. “Holding back?” He tongued the inside of his mouth to see if she had broken the skin with her blow. She hadn’t.
Her breathing was just a little labored. Diana took a deep inhalation and dropped her fists as he slowly came to his feet. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to prove a point. Give, Ryder. Please.”
When he refused and assumed a fighting stance once more, she rolled her eyes and adopted her ready position. He circled, testing her with a few assorted jabs and punches, all of which she blocked.
He wasn’t exceptionally graceful, Diana thought, but he was strong and fast, and recovered quickly every time she managed to connect with a kick or a punch. Time and time again she dropped him, and after each fall, he resumed the battle.
She was becoming tired, her arms growing heavy from the constant punches and defensive blocks. Her steps had lost some of their spring, but she still had more strength and stamina in her legs than in her arms, like most women. With that in mind, she began an offense devised around her remaining strengths, coming at him with a combined flurry of kicks that once again brought him to the mat.
Ryder struggled to draw a breath, his ribs smarting from the last blow Diana had delivered. He might have superior strength and speed, maybe even more stamina, but she was certainly the better fighter. She recognized his weaknesses and played on them, forcing him to make moves that she not only easily countered, but punished him for with a fresh series of blows.
This last campaign had been all footwork, and he admitted she had him dead to rights. One kick after another had connected, and while he was reeling, she swept his feet out from under him. She now stood before him, trying to control her breathing, her fists braced for more conflict. A fine glisten of sweat covered her arms and shoulders, and the gray of her tank top was stained with perspiration along the neckline.
“Ready to concede, Ryder?” she asked softly, and there was no hint of derision or anger.
Ryder grasped his side and awkwardly lumbered to his feet, but he refused to concede defeat. “I can’t leave you alone.”
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