Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2)

by Melynda Price

  “Is that right?” Quick Draw asked. His assessing gaze held no such appreciation for the sport. He’d yet to remove the cuffs, and thanks to Ryann’s unhelpful defense, it might be quite some time before that happened now. Not that he totally blamed the cop for being cautious. There was a dead man behind the counter and Aiden didn’t exactly look like the take-you-home-to-mother kind of guy.

  His arms were sleeved in gray-wash tats, his ears were pierced, and his brow was studded. He wore a steel hoop through his bottom lip, and a balled bar through his tongue. The first thing he’d done after moving to Vegas was wipe away any remnant of Sen. Bennett Kruze’s son. If anything, he looked like he belonged with those jackasses by the cooler, not with this stunning redhead with the peaches-and-cream complexion and expressive vibrant eyes. If it weren’t for Ryann, he’d probably be getting booked with them right now. These cops had walked into a dangerous situation. They would arrest now and ask forgiveness later.

  “Yes, that’s so,” she answered for him.

  Both he and the officer shot her an annoyed scowl. He could speak for himself, for crissake, and the officer obviously wanted to hear what he had to say. But Ryann wasn’t having any of it.

  “Would you please remove these cuffs from my boyfriend?”

  She’d gotten pissed at the officer’s less than gentle treatment of him and apparently wasn’t going to be happy until they uncuffed him. What spurred her sudden protective streak he couldn’t know, but it was certainly an unexpected response. Aiden wasn’t used to having anyone fight for him—ever. And seeing this adorable pixie standing up to a room full of officers and making demands she had no business tossing about was not only charming but it made something in his chest cramp and his heart warm uncomfortably.

  The officer’s brow shot up at her demand. As if to prove her claim on him, Ryann moved closer and slipped her arms around his waist. Despite the inappropriateness of the situation, the press of her soft breasts against his side uncomfortably heated his blood.

  “Ryann . . .” He was about to ask her to step back. Her effect on him was swift and uncontrollable. The last thing he needed if this cop decided to pat him down was for the guy to come in contact with his rock-hard cock. He’d be arrested for intent with a deadly weapon for sure.

  “Do you have any ID on you?” Quick Draw cut in impatiently.

  “My back pocket.”

  Ryann helpfully obliged by slipping her hand into the back of his jeans. She removed his wallet and handed it to the officer. He flipped it open and a condom hit the floor. The cop shot him a Really? eye roll and slipped his license from the clear plastic jacket. He handed the wallet back to Ryann, who did not retrieve his rubber before shoving it back in his jeans.

  “Long way from Vegas,” the officer commented. “Where did you say you were going?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Ryann nudged him in the ribs for being difficult and added impatiently, “We’re on our way to Manhattan. Aiden has family there.”

  The officer nodded. “I’ll be right back.” He turned and headed out to his car to run Aiden’s license.

  “Why are you being so difficult?” she hissed under her breath.

  “Why did you tell him I was your boyfriend?” he asked, ignoring her question.

  Ryann’s cheeks reddened, her gaze darting nervously to the floor. “I thought it’d be easier that way, give you more credibility—”

  “You think my credibility is lacking?” he asked, arching his pierced brow, half teasing, half serious.

  Her eyes shot up to his, uncertainty pinching her brows as she studied him. “Of course not. I don’t, but you’ll probably have a little more trouble convincing them.” She nodded toward the officers by the cooler. “Besides, what do you think I’m going to tell them?—that I abducted you from the Embassy Suites in Minneapolis and dragged you against your will halfway across Wisconsin?”

  “You left out the Rohypnol part.” His top lip twitched at her slack-jawed look, all color draining from her beautiful face.

  “You’re not going to tell them, are you?” she demanded in a harsh whisper.

  “That’s depends . . .”

  “On what?”

  He gave her his signature sexy Disco grin. Her eyes went wide with understanding, but before he could barter for his silence, one of the other officers came over.

  “Are you the one who called 911, ma’am?”

  She nodded.

  “Would you come with me, please? I have a few questions for you.” At first, she looked hesitant to leave Aiden’s side, as if she didn’t trust him not to rat her out. “Don’t worry, ma’am. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  CHAPTER

  12

  A few minutes felt like forever. She was fairly certain Aiden was only joking about the roofies, but this being her first felony and all, she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous letting him out of her sight. In as much detail as she could remember, Ryann quickly explained what happened. The officer wrote everything down and sent his partner to retrieve the weapons. By the time he escorted her back to Aiden, the one who’d taken his license was removing the cuffs from his wrists.

  “I appreciate you being so understanding, Mr. Kruze. Under the circumstances, we had to take every precaution.”

  The officer even picked the foil package up from the floor and handed it back to Aiden. What the hell? He took it back and shoved his hand in his front pocket, looking more pissed off than ever. Why? They were letting him go and with an apology at that.

  “Like I said, it’s not a problem.” Aiden’s clipped tone belayed his annoyance.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked, looking between him and the officer.

  “It’s fine. They ran my ID. They know who I am.”

  And that’s a bad thing?

  “Apparently, it doesn’t look very good on your record when you rough up a senator’s son,” he grumbled.

  Ryann didn’t think he could have said senator’s son with more distain. Was Aiden actually mad about getting preferential treatment because of who he was? And the fact that this officer looked ready to shit himself told her there was a hell of a lot more to Aiden Kruze than she realized.

  “We’re free to go, then?” she asked.

  “Well, not exactly,” the officer who’d spoken with her chimed in as he approached. “We’re going to need you to stay close.”

  What? This can’t be happening. “How close?”

  “In town close.”

  “But why? For how long?” Quickly, she did the mental math, counting down the days to her deadline—seven. She had seven days to get Aiden to Manhattan.

  “A couple of days. You’re witnesses in a murder investigation, ma’am. We’ll need you to come down to the station and give official statements tomorrow and answer any other questions. You’ll have to officially identify the suspects.”

  “Identify the suspects? They’re right there!” She pointed to the three men as they were being led past her single file.

  “I realize that. It’s just a formality, ma’am.”

  “Can they do that?” she asked, turning to Aiden. “Can they keep us here?”

  “Not without a court order. But given the circumstances, getting one wouldn’t be difficult.”

  Shit. “I don’t even know where we are.”

  “Portage, ma’am.”

  “And where exactly is that?”

  “Not quite an hour past Madison.”

  “My girlfriend’s tired,” Aiden cut in, seeming anxious to be done with the whole thing. “And she’s had quite a shock. Can you point me to the closest motel around here?”

  “That’d be the Shady Lawn.”

  “Thank you, we’ll GPS it. If you’ll give me your card, I’ll call later today to schedule a time to come in and give our statements.”

&n
bsp; The officer handed him his card and Aiden placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the exit. They were nearly out the door when the officer called, “Mr. Kruze . . .” Aiden stopped, but didn’t bother to turn back. “On behalf of the Portage Police Department, we apologize for any inconvenience this has caused—”

  “Don’t.” Aiden cut him off. “You’re just doing your job. I’m not my father.” He grumbled that last part under his breath, his heavy undertone of resentment not lost on Ryann. She couldn’t help but wonder what they’d discovered about Aiden that would make these officers so skittish. Before she could think too hard on it, Aiden grabbed her hand and led her out the door.

  “Keys . . .”

  He held out his hand expectantly.

  Ryann hesitated before pulling them out of her pocket and dropping them into his palm. The guy had just saved her life. She could hardly insult him by denying his request to drive. Yet, somehow, she couldn’t help but feel they’d reversed roles. She considered balking about it, but given Aiden’s souring mood, she decided now might not be the best time to take her stand. With him, she’d have to pick and choose her battles carefully. Gaining his compliance was her main goal here. All that mattered was getting him to Manhattan, not how they arrived. Perhaps if she surrendered some control, he’d soften a bit, let down his guard, and become more compliant.

  Aiden didn’t exactly strike her as the kind of guy who took well to not being in charge. He might appear to be a happy-go-lucky, womanizing flirt, but she’d glimpsed enough of his dark side to know that deep down there was a whole hell of a lot more to this fighter than met the eye. And damn if Ryann didn’t find herself wanting to solve the puzzle that was Aiden Kruze—which was a really bad idea, considering this guy wasn’t her enigma to solve. For the countless time since she’d met him, Ryann reminded herself he was engaged to be married in a week.

  The Escape’s headlights flashed as he used the remote to unlock it. They broke apart, and she wordlessly rounded the back of the SUV. Without his support, her legs felt shaky and weak. Maybe it was the aftermath of adrenaline finally clearing her system that was messing with her head, making it feel light. By the time she climbed into the passenger seat, she was shaking. It didn’t help that she couldn’t stop thinking of how different this night would have ended if Aiden hadn’t come to her rescue. That easily could have been her lying dead in that store . . .

  “Hey, you all right?” he asked, shooting her a sideways glance from the driver’s seat.

  She nodded, not sure her voice would support the lie. She was just tired, that was all. Once she got some rest, this would all seem less . . . overwhelming.

  Aiden didn’t look convinced. Turning in his seat, he reached for her, taking her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his. At the intensity of his stare, her pulse quickened, butterflies awakened in her stomach. Never in her life had she seen eyes this color. The unnatural golden tones with darker flecks of brown were a kaleidoscope of design she could get lost in if she wasn’t careful. Though firm and unyielding, his touch was gentle—comforting.

  Ryann resisted the urge to close her eyes, to relax in his hands, soaking in the strength of this fighter who single-handedly saved her life and stopped a robbery. Because of him, three dangerous men were off the streets and would hopefully remain that way. It was only too bad he hadn’t gotten there sooner—before an innocent life was lost.

  “You’re shaking.” His brows drew tight with concern.

  She was shaking, worse than before. It definitely wasn’t Aiden’s touch making her tremble, or the genuine concern in his eyes making her walls of resistance crumble. And she surely didn’t want him to pull her into his arms like he had inside that store, holding her against his rock-hard body as he told her everything was going to be all right—even if it wasn’t true.

  “I’m . . . just cold, that’s all,” she murmured, finally finding her voice.

  He hesitated a moment, his all-too-perceptive eyes taking her in, missing nothing. She felt the heat of his gaze every place they landed, now searing her mouth as it stalled on her lips. Nervously, she wet them with the tip of her tongue. Her pulse beat faster. She swallowed against the lump in her throat, which drew his eyes to the small divot at the base of her neck. Something in the air electrified between them. His expression darkened, and the concern that had been there seconds ago was replaced with another emotion she didn’t dare try to name. Whatever it was made him look hungry—predatory.

  If Ryann had had half a brain in her head she would have been afraid, for at that moment, she knew any semblance of control she thought she held over this fighter was nothing more than an illusion. Aiden Kruze was a force to be reckoned with—inside the cage and out. This man was an absolute powerhouse, and her feminine instincts told her that he would be no less dominant in the bedroom. She’d gotten a small taste of it just last week, when he’d believed her to be nothing more than a panty-dropping fan.

  The memories returned, swift and unbidden—the feel of his barely controlled restraint as he pinned her against the door with his powerful body. The dominance of his mouth as he took what she had to give and demanded more, consuming her as no man had before. His skilled tongue did things to her mouth that made her want to feel that talent in other aching places.

  His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, ripping her back into the here and now. Oh, Lord, he was going to kiss her. The rough, callused hands of this fighter lit her nerve endings on fire. Her reaction to him was fierce and irrational—a dangerous combination. A strangled moan escaped her throat as she forced her mind to shut down the memory of his last touch. This was not happening. He wasn’t for her. This man was a paycheck, nothing more and nothing less, and she must remember that—before she got hurt.

  Clearing her throat to cover the escaped whimpering sound, she pulled away from Aiden’s touch and hugged her arms across her chest as if she could somehow contain the desire thrumming through her veins. She rubbed her biceps furiously in an attempt to scrub away the goose bumps prickling her flesh.

  “It’s freezing in here. Will you please start the car?”

  Aiden paused a moment, still watching her, then grunted his consent, tearing his gaze away and turning his attention to the task of getting them the hell out of there.

  What the hell was he thinking? Had he really almost kissed Ryann—again? The first time he’d had the excuse of ignorance. He’d thought she was a typical cage banger, but it didn’t take spending more than a few minutes with this woman to know there was nothing typical about Ryann Andrews.

  And just maybe that was the crux of it. She intrigued him like no other. Obviously, his protective instincts were still running on overdrive and fucking with his common sense. He should not want her like he did, especially after that shit she pulled in Minneapolis. But despite his ire over her drugging him, a part of him couldn’t help but respect the hell out of her for having the balls to take him on. And now, after seeing how she handled herself in a crisis, how she kept it together . . . that was some impressive shit.

  Aiden stood beneath the motel’s hot shower spray, mentally berating himself for softening toward the woman who sat no more than twenty feet from him. There was only one wall separating them, and it wasn’t nearly thick enough, as far as he was concerned. This was a mistake—sharing a room with her—but she’d refused his offer to book two rooms, leaving them to share the single-occupancy suite with the queen bed.

  She wasn’t letting him out of her sight, which wouldn’t be such a big deal if he didn’t want to fuck her blind. Now that was a problem. She still wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t bolt on her, and to be honest, he vacillated on the idea himself. Hell, he’d be lucky if she didn’t cuff him to the bed tonight. Just thinking about it sent a wicked visual flashing through his mind. In response, his cock began to swell with eager anticipation. Growling a ripe curse, he swore at the stiff member and cr
anked the cold water, letting the tepid spray beat his erection into submission.

  This was a mistake—spending any amount of time horizontal with that woman was a really bad idea. Apparently, saving her life hadn’t won him enough points in the trust department—or maybe it’d won him too many, if she thought he was going to be able to share a bed with her and keep it platonic.

  If all that wasn’t bad enough, the shower still smelled like her. The light, feminine scent of her lavender soap tormented his senses. Anxious for this to be over, he grabbed the courtesy bar of soap and did a quick lather. Ryann had left hers in the shower with an innocent offer to share, but he’d be damned if he was going to subject himself to that kind of torture. Come morning, after they’d both gotten some much-needed sleep, he’d hit up the local store to get a change of clothes and some manly soap.

  After rinsing off the filmy bubbles, Aiden cut the shower’s spray and stepped out of the tub. Grabbing the towel from the rack, he dried off before sliding on his underwear. As he prepared to enter the main room, he sent up a silent prayer Ryann would be asleep.

  CHAPTER

  13

  What are you doing?”

  Ryann didn’t even try to disguise the alarm in her voice when Aiden came swaggering out of the bathroom towel drying his hair in nothing but his underwear. The boxer briefs rode low on his waist, clinging to his thighs and hugging his ass. Hanes never looked so good. The black cotton stretched taut over an impressive piece of male flesh hanging between his thighs, the detailed outline leaving nothing to the imagination.

  His arms were up, displaying a roadmap of muscled abs and sculpted obliques. Not a spare ounce of flesh adorned this man’s body, a body he clearly had no shame in putting on display. Then again, why should he?—he was absolutely gorgeous.

  Aiden froze at her alarmed outburst and canted his head, looking at her from beneath the towel. “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m getting ready for bed.”