Dangerous to Know

by Dawn Ryder

  Kagan got up and strolled away. A car slid up to the curb and he opened the door and got in. The people moving down the sidewalk never took much notice of him.

  Kagan had devoted his life to preserving their way of living.

  And he had a feeling that fight was about to get very complicated.

  * * *

  “Daddy’s home!”

  Zoe lifted her head, hitting Mercer in the chin. He grunted, his arms tightening out of reflex around her. She pushed against him as she heard her father’s footfalls coming down the hallway.

  She was suddenly feeling seventeen.

  “My dad…”

  “Is home,” her father announced in a booming voice.

  Colonel Bryan Magnus stood in the doorway, still in his fatigues. Mercer was wide awake now but he held her still, only moving to tug the comforter up to cover her shoulder. Her father had planted himself in the doorway, slowly tugging his glasses off as he caught Mercer with a razor-sharp look.

  “Morning, sir.”

  Her father pegged Mercer with a hard look. “Get some shorts on, son. You’re burning daylight and I need some coffee.”

  Her dad winked at her before turning neatly on his heel and letting the bedroom door close.

  Zoe groaned.

  Mercer chuckled. He was already out of bed and stepping into his jeans. She lifted her face from the bed and shot him a look.

  “My dad is going—”

  “To bust my balls,” Mercer finished for her.

  “Ah, pretty much,” she agreed.

  He shrugged into a T-shirt and winked at her. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Zoe pushed herself up and onto her knees. “You are?”

  He leaned over and pressed a hard kiss against her lips. “Sure am.” His eyes flashed a warning at her. “Because as soon as I get him on my side, I’m going to drag you down to the courthouse.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to marry you.”

  Mercer stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He turned and gave her a wink. “Why do you think I need your dad on my side? He’s got to hold the shotgun. While I hold on to you.”

  “Mercer…”

  She ended up staring at the closed bedroom door and laughing.

  At herself.

  * * *

  “Who’s my fluffy baby…”

  Saxon and Mercer turned around slowly. Mercer pulled his shades off his face as he stared at her father in dumbfounded shock.

  Zoe smothered her amusement behind her hand.

  “Sweet little birdie…”

  Her father was cradling Harley like an infant. The scarlet-winged macaw was lying contently on his back in her father’s arms with most of his feathers fluffed up.

  “That’s wrong,” Saxon said.

  “What’s wrong about it?” her father demanded as he rocked Harley gently. The parrot had his beak open, looking for all the world like he was the happiest creature alive. “Don’t tell me my little girl didn’t explain that Harley is her baby brother?”

  Mercer cut her a look. “The hatch-day cake?”

  “Yup,” Zoe answered. “From scratch. Every year.”

  Her father rolled Harley over so that the parrot was perched on his hand. The bird started nuzzling him under his chin as he rubbed him. “No store-bought cakes for family members in this house.”

  Saxon reached out and patted Mercer on the shoulder. “She’s all yours. This family is completely crazy. And those birds live forever. You’re going to be dealing with it when you’re sixty.”

  “Maybe I haven’t agreed to be his,” Zoe said.

  “Harley, Daddy needs to put you down so he can get his shotgun.”

  “That’s not funny, Dad.”

  Mercer winked at her. “Yes it is. Real funny, because I get to watch you be pushed around for a change.”

  Mercer dropped his arms around her from behind, kissing her temple before nuzzling her neck.

  “You know you’re going to marry me.”

  “Do I?” she asked as she melted against him. “Why?”

  “Because I love you.”

  She was pretty sure she was wearing a smile. It still felt strange, the lack of tension, the feeling of him against her when none of the odds had favored them.

  Mercer leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I love you, Zoe Magnus. So marry me and I’ll help you bake that cake for Harley.”

  “You’ve got a deal.”

  But she was the one who had gotten the real deal.

  The golden-ticket type.

  * * *

  “They’ll come for you next,” Saxon said.

  Kagan nodded. He was looking at his computer screen, a NO MATCH FOUND message flashing on it.

  No match found for one Tyler Martin.

  No service record. No shield number. No arrest record.

  Nothing.

  “This runs deep,” Kagan said at last. “Better make sure your ass is covered. Double time.”

  He doubted there was any way to avoid the storm that was coming. Someone had come for Tyler all right. A someone with mighty deep connections. In its way, it was interesting to note. A strangely fascinating type of puzzle that he enjoyed because he couldn’t figure it out.

  But that was also his Achilles’ heel.

  A man who knew too much was a liability.

  No one liked having those around.

  In this case, whoever was on the other end of getting Tyler released was going to try to clean the slate. He knew it because that would be his own next move.

  So he’d just have to make sure he was a harder target to hit.

  Read on for an excerpt from Dawn Ryder’s upcoming novel

  DARE YOU TO RUN

  Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

  He was home.

  Damascus felt him. Call that what you may, but she was sure she felt his presence registering on her skin. The air in the house fairly crackled as she felt him drawing closer. She sat still, keeping her chin up and her hands on her knees. Her breath was caught in her throat as she caught the first sight of him, just a quarter of his face as he looked around the doorframe and down the barrel of his handgun. He had his finger on the trigger, his left hand cupping the butt of it. His bare forearms allowed her to see the definition that proved he was just as hard and deadly as she recalled.

  She bit her lower lip to keep from talking, her composure flying to pieces like it was being hit by a tornado. All the resolve and self-discipline she’d spent the last three years cultivating were being ripped away in chunks and strips by this sheer force of nature. He finished checking the house before coming back to stare at her. She felt his glare, felt like it was burning away the layers of the façade she’d built after realizing she had to leave him.

  “You wanted my attention?” he asked at last, his voice a low rumble that suited the nearly dark room. The only light was coming from a red light. It had turned on the moment she entered the room, allowing her to see without killing her night vision.

  “Actually, that’s my line,” she said as she stood. He’d stopped across the room from her, the gun tucked against his center, behind his belt.

  His brows lowered. “I don’t follow.”

  “Well, your brother is trailing me,” she countered. “Don’t bother to deny it. You bugged my dragonfly, didn’t you?”

  Surprise widened his eyes. It was a momentary loss of control, one he masked quickly but not before she saw it.

  “I knew it,” she said. “That was a low thing to do. The dragonfly belonged to my grandmother. It’s important to me.”

  Which was why he’d used it, she realized that as the words were sailing out of her mouth like some sort of plea for an apology. What the hell was wrong with her? Vitus sure wouldn’t be sparing much empathy for her bruised feelings.

  “I did place a bug in the dragonfly.” He lifted a finger and pointed at her. “As a safeguard, when you were my responsibility. I haven’t used it since.”

&nb
sp; “Well, your brother is now. I caught him today, at the university.” She shot his attempt to dodge the issue out of the air. “And Saxon wouldn’t be watching me unless you were in on it.”

  “You’re guessing, Princess.”

  There was arrogance in his tone. One that she wanted to hate, but she knew it was earned and that just pissed her off even more because there were unknown factors. But, it also wasn’t a denial; he was dodging the question and trying to distract her.

  “I’m not guessing that I saw him and there was no way he would have known where I was unless he had a tracking beacon.” She looked away from him, realizing she was saying too much. Her association with Colonel Magnus had to remain secret. She drew in a deep breath and turned to face him again. “Well, I’m here to tell you to stop.”

  “Saxon has a reason to keep an eye on your father. That doesn’t mean he’d trail you.”

  “He was with me at the university,” she said confidently. “And you have to stop before—”

  She shut her mouth with a click of her teeth. A second later, Vitus had her by the forearms, his seemingly relaxed stance in the doorway nothing but a smokescreen to keep her at ease and spilling her guts.

  “You took a damned stupid risk coming here by yourself. Thank God I had the system enabled to let you in or you’d have been stuck on the step like a sitting duck for who the hell knows how long. Don’t be stupid like that, Princess. Your father has a lot of enemies.”

  He was hissing through clenched teeth. She tried to recoil from his temper, slapping at his chest when he held her without any real effort. Somehow, she’d forgotten just how bloody strong he was.

  “Well, I did do it,” she shot back. “You and your brother aren’t the only ones who know how to play shadow games. And no one taught me how to do it.”

  She was suddenly free and ended up stumbling back a few paces, finally coming to rest against the wall.

  “You shouldn’t have to learn,” Vitus said softly. So softly she might have missed the sympathy in his tone.

  But she didn’t and she lifted her chin, needing to be more than the helpless creature she’d been the last time she’d been inside his house. “You think I want to be the princess you always called me?” She shook her head. “I’m not a little girl.”

  His lips twitched, curving sensuously as his eyes narrowed in a purely male way. It had been three long years since she’d seen that look on his face, but she recognized it instantly, sensation rippling across the surface of her skin in response. There was no thinking, no deciding what she felt; there was only him and the way her body sprang to life when he was close enough to touch her.

  “I have never.…” He stepped closer, her senses so keen, she head the soft sounds of his boots connecting with the wooden floor. “Never … thought of you as a little girl.” All the tiny hairs on her skin were standing straight up as he closed the space so that he could flatten his hands against the wall on either side of her face. “But I sure as hell tried to.”

  His eyes were closed now as he leaned down and inhaled against her hair.

  “I tried so damned hard to think of you as a little girl.… instead of the woman I wanted to touch.…”

  She heard the desire in his voice, felt it wash through her like a flash flood, sweeping everything else aside in the blink of an eye.

  “Touch me.…” She couldn’t have held the words back if she’d tried. There was no way to silence the cravings she had for him, she’d tried.

  “Don’t say that.” He growled. “I need to get you back.…”

  “Screw that.” It felt like every fiber in her being rejected the idea. What she wanted was right there. She could smell him, feel his body heat, and all she wanted was a taste to go with it all, to send her into sensory overload where reality could just fucking drown.

  She reached out, finished with waiting and being cautious. He was too close, too real to be ignored in favor of doing the wise thing. His chest felt as good as she recalled. Hard and sculpted, and her fingertips were suddenly ultra-sensitive. The T-shirt he had on was a thin barrier that nevertheless frustrated her because it kept her from what she craved.

  So she dug her fingers into the soft jersey and yanked it up. The tail of it came free from his belt, rising up to give her exactly what she wanted, bare skin.

  * * *

  “Agreed. Fuck it and everything else but this.…” he said, reaching down to take control of his shirt. There was a rustle of motion, a bunching of his abdominal muscles as he pulled the shirt up and over his head, chucking it across the room with a motion that was full of barely controlled strength. He was breathing as hard as she was, both of them a hair’s-breadth from some sort of explosion. Damascus felt it building inside her, and she licked her lips with anticipation.

  His face tightened as his gaze settled on her tongue as it made the journey across her lower lip. She was fingering the fabric of her dress and suddenly couldn’t bear the impediment of it between them. She tugged it up, pulling it above her head before she felt him grasp it and finish the job.

  The cool air brushed against her overheated skin, but only for a moment before he caught her up against him. He captured her mouth in a searing kiss. She moaned softly, unable to contain all the sensation inside her anymore. He pressed her lips apart, licking across her lower lip before threading his hands into her hair and holding her head and thrusting his tongue into her mouth to stroke hers.

  She shuddered, the bluntness of it making her clit pulse. Her heart was hammering with a crazy rhythm, but she didn’t care if it burst; the only thing on her mind was to get closer to him. She reached for his belt, fumbling with it as she struggled to free what she craved.

  “Fuck … no,” he growled as he put her at arm’s length. “Too fast.”

  His voice was raspy and his face looked like it was etched in solid stone. There was a fury in his eyes that should have scared her, but the only thing she had room for in her brain was the need to get back in contact with him.

  Vitus wasn’t letting her decide anything, though. He scooped her off her feet like she weighed as much as a pillow, cradling her against his chest as he carried her through the dark house to his bed. Her belly tightened as she realized what he was doing, excitement curling her toes even as she fought off a twinge of frustration for the way he was taking command.

  She couldn’t expect anything less from him, but he wasn’t the only one with desires. She flipped over and rose onto her knees the moment he tossed her onto the mattress. It bounced, the springs groaning as she reached behind her and unhooked the flimsy bra she’d bought. Her cash fluttered down as she enjoyed the way Vitus had frozen, his gaze riveted on her breasts, his mouth a thin line of hunger.

  “Shit,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. His fly was only half open but he leaned across the bed and fastened his lips around one nipple, drawing on the point like he was starving.

  She gasped, sensation flowing from that connection down to her clit. He crawled right over her, slipping his knees on either side of her hips as he closed his arms around her and sucked on her tit. She arched back, offering it to him, offering every bit of herself to him.

  His.… she just wanted to be his.

  I wouldn’t mind being your choice tonight …

  Her inner animal wanted loose. She felt her cheeks heat because normally she had better control over her impulses. Knowing that everyone else had the same urges didn’t keep her blush from deepening either. She felt like he could read her thoughts. He had a demeanor that suggested he was more perceptive than the average guy. Defiantly in more control than most. A ripple of sensation went across her skin and she smiled, enjoying the response because it was so intense. There was something about the guy that just made her want to fling the rule book aside. No worrying about repercussions or anything lurking in his past.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Dawn Ryder is the contemporary romance pen name of a bestselling author of historical romances—her o
fficial naughty inner child. She is commercially published in mass market and trade paper, and digi-first published with trade paper releases. She is hugely committed to her career as an author, as well as to other authors and to her readership. She resides in Southern California. Visit her website at: www.dawnryder.com. Or sign up for email updates here.

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  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  DANGEROUS TO KNOW

  Copyright © 2016 by Dawn Ryder.

  Excerpt from Dare You to Run copyright © 2016 by Dawn Ryder.

  All rights reserved.

  For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

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  eISBN: 9781466886612

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / March 2016

  St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2