Honeymoon To Die For (16 page)

She smiled, a real one for the first time that day.

Butterflies were holding a flutter convention in her stomach again. She had no idea how to reply and glanced around to hide the quick flash of nerves she got at the intense way Ryder was staring at her. “I’m surprised Murdock hasn’t swarmed us by now.”

“Something might have interfered with the radio frequency for the chip. I heard one of the kidnappers say they sent someone to keep the limo moving, because they suspected it was being tracked.”

“Who grabbed us? And why?”

“Kearn’s people. His sons are out for vengeance. They wanted to know who contracted me to kill J. K.”

“What did you tell them?”

Ryder was quiet for a moment. “That I have no idea who contracted the hit because I didn’t kill him. They didn’t like that answer.”

Bianca’s determination to back the findings of her team warred with her gut, arguing that Ryder might be telling the truth.

“You didn’t tell them you thought Hubrecht was behind the hit?”

“I suspect Hubrecht, but then I suspect
everyone
at VDE, but I won’t condemn another person until I’m absolutely certain and have evidence. Someone was sent to kill J. K. and they used the timing to finger me for it, which points to everyone in my family, plus Sam Long and Kale Carter. From your perspective, everything points to me. I could be just as wrong as you are.”

Her conscience was taking a beating from the constant, knocking accusation that she was, indeed, wrong. That this time, facts
had
lied.

Could Ryder be as innocent as he claimed?

If so, what had she missed in her research? The doubt that had pecked at the back of her mind from the moment she’d started digging into Ryder’s case returned. One question had gone unanswered in spite of all the other evidence gathered.

Just as Hubrecht had pointed out, wouldn’t someone with Ryder’s skills have known better than to use the very weapon he’d preferred and used consistently throughout his career as a sniper?

She didn’t have answers and couldn’t figure out anything while she was running through the hood, trying to avoid associates of the men who’d grabbed them. A mugging should concern her, but after watching Ryder in action, any mugger stupid enough to jump them tonight would be in for a rude surprise when he stepped into Ryder’s path.

“We need to find wheels,” Ryder said, scanning the light traffic moving along the street.

No handy limo hanging around.

She’d been searching while they stood there and finally spotted the illuminated top of a Yellow Cab and tried to step past Ryder. “A cab. Let’s wave it down.”

“You stay here until I call you out.”

Arguing would only waste time and Ryder was too tense to push right now. “Okay.”

The cab took its time coming over to the curb. It slowed long enough for the driver to take a hard look at Ryder and the blood on his tux, then the taxi peeled off.

Bianca ran out of the doorway, shouting, “Come back here, you miserable, egg-sucking prick!”

Someone chuckled.

She turned around, sure it couldn’t be stone-faced Ryder, but he was the only one standing there with amusement glittering in his eyes. She might have taken a moment to enjoy this break in his hard-ass veneer, but he was laughing at her. “What’s so funny?”

“That was impressive adult language.”

She covered her mouth. Add potty mouth as another newly acquired skill for an undercover agent. Mama would’ve had a fit if she’d heard that.

Daddy would have another heart attack.

Bianca stopped in her tracks when she finally got a good look at Ryder with streetlight catching his face. “Holy crap, no wonder the cab took off.”  She came over, putting her hand on his jaw. “Does it hurt bad?”

“I’ll live.”  He wiped his cut mouth on the sleeve of his ripped-up jacket as he walked her back over to their dark doorway.

“I know you’ll live, macho man. My question was whether it hurts.”  She’d been sweating from their fast escape, but now that she wasn’t moving and the adrenaline rush was dying down, the night air chilled her.

He must have noticed her shiver, because he pulled his jacket off. He draped the coat around her shoulders, keeping himself between her and the street the whole time.

He pulled the lapels together, using them to draw her in close and asked in a deep voice, “If I tell you my booboo hurts, will you kiss it and make it better?”  

Now she understood why women fell at Ryder’s feet.

She
wasn’t falling at any man’s feet, but he was so adorable in that moment she couldn’t help her reaction. Lifting up on her toes, she gently kissed his swollen cheek then his abused mouth. She was being careful not to cause him any more pain.

But Ryder made a noise that sounded like a jungle cat on the hunt and wrapped her in his arms, not holding back when he returned the kiss. His tongue ran across her teeth then played with her tongue. If this man could bottle his ability to kiss, he could take over the world. Well, half the world.

The female half.

She heard a car motor puttering toward them right before Ryder shoved her deeper into the recess and stepped out to approach the cab. He had frighteningly fast reflexes.

The cabbie shouted out through his open window. “You folks okay? Need a ride?”

Bending down, Ryder answered, “We got mugged, but I’ve got a hundred dollar bill hidden in my boot. It’s yours if you let me use your cell phone to make a call and drive us back to Buckhead.”

“In the words of my favorite actor, show me the money.”

Ryder pulled his boot off and produced a one-hundred-dollar bill, then he waved Bianca over to the car. He kept watch until she was inside and slid in behind her, telling the driver the address.  

When the cabbie handed Ryder his cell phone, Ryder punched numbers quickly. “Terrence, are you at home?”  He paused, nodding. “I’ll explain when I get there, but I need you to clear me through the gate. I’m in a cab. Did our driver call in?”  Ryder listened. “Great. We’re safe, but a little scuffed up. No, I’m good. Don’t send anyone. We’ll be there soon.”

She could see blood seeping where the front of Ryder’s white shirt had a rip at chest level, and he’d have a black eye tomorrow.  Scuffed up? Kearn’s people had worked him over.  When Ryder hung up, Bianca took the phone from him. “Let me tell my people that we’re okay, too.”

He hesitated, but handed the phone to her.

She dialed the hotline she had for Nanci Tyler that Murdock had given Bianca for a dire situation since they couldn’t send Bianca out with a secure line. But no one would have a tap on a random cabbie’s phone.

Nanci had been brought in from another division in the FBI to be Bianca’s contact. Murdock had wanted to limit the number of people who knew the truth about what Bianca was doing, and figured if he brought in an unfamiliar agent the team wouldn’t get anything out of her.

Ryder had been telling Hubrecht the truth about Bianca when he’d said she was considered a pariah in her department.

To convince the media—and her department—that this was all bona fide, Bianca had announced flaws she’d found in Todd Dolan’s research. Todd was removed immediately, but in truth he currently sat in an undisclosed location with no Internet or cellular connection until this was over.

But Todd would be well compensated and they’d probably put him at the beach, his favorite vacation spot.

When Nanci answered her phone on one ring, Bianca said, “Just want you to know that I’m fine and all is okay on this end, but this is a quick call.”  She’d let Nanci know she could only say so much on this end even if the cabbie didn’t know her.

“I’ll pass that along to the boss, but he’ll want a report. Go for a run tomorrow morning and use your iPod.”

She could feel Ryder trying to figure out what was being discussed, but Murdock had told Bianca to share nothing with Ryder that she didn’t have to, including when she picked up or dropped intel. If she couldn’t go into VDE with Ryder in the morning, assuming he was still going, she could at least pick up information from Nanci once Ryder left. “Sure.”

“Do it at daylight.”

What?
Bianca sighed, “Okay, good talking to you.”

She handed the phone back to the cabbie, thanking him.

How was she going to get away from Ryder that early in the morning?

CHAPTER 13

Bianca mentally prepared to get out of the cab. She wished he’d drive her anywhere but here.

She still had to meet the rest of the Van Dyke clan. The car rolled along a brick-inlaid drive lined with Magnolia trees, elegant wooded sentries lit by architectural lights hidden around the bases.

The driver circled a stone fountain where a bronze sculpture rose from the center. Water streamed from graceful metallic orchids and flowed over the dress of a gaily-dancing girl, reminding Bianca of her childhood. Carefree.

Aerial photos she’d reviewed didn’t do the estate justice from ground level. The film of this estate that had aired on
Fabulous Homes of Famous Families—
that was
before the Van Dykes had taken ownership—had provided her FBI team with a view of some interior rooms and the surrounding grounds. After watching that recorded videotape—fifteen times—Bianca knew those rooms better than her own small apartment in Virginia.

After all, she wasn’t here because of spending endless hours at the combatives gym and at the range. Bianca enjoyed being in shape and shooting. She’d even thought with those skills she was somewhat prepared.

She’d found out tonight that all her extra training had been useless against a real threat.

No, she wasn’t here because of the new muscles she’d developed or her ability to double tap a moving range target with her weak hand.

She was here for one reason. To do what she did best with her exceptional memory for details and her ability to circumvent computer security shields most considered impregnable.

But Ryder
was
trained for what they’d gone through tonight.

He hadn’t abandoned her when he could have. And by rights, maybe he
should
have, based on the way she’d been treating him.

It was time to stop fighting him, stop mistrusting every word he said, and act like a partner. And maybe it was time to consider that he just might be telling the truth.

But for now, she had to prepare to step out of this limo as the new Mrs. Ryder Van Dyke, who would be expected to appear clean and tastefully dressed.

Not some woman who looked as though she’d been in a barroom brawl.   

Ryder’s jacket hung to mid-thigh on her and hid the rip in her sleeve. She rubbed at the dirt smudge on her arm and brushed at her dress, where grime clung like metal shavings to a magnet.

She smoothed her hands over her hair that hadn’t faired much better than the rest of her.

Ryder had his arm around her and gave her a little squeeze. “Ready?”

Not even. Her simple roots hadn’t prepared her for stepping into a world of opulence, even if she’d had on her best church clothes. She could only hope bulldog determination would make up for lack of a pedigree.

As the cab stopped, Bianca nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be at this point.”

Ryder handed over the hundred-dollar bill he’d promised the driver and climbed out before helping Bianca to her feet.

She stared up at the monstrous house and suffered a moment of serious insecurity, but she’d just survived being kidnapped at gunpoint. Could meeting Ryder’s family be any worse? Half of this place could hold most of the people from her hometown. If
they
visited, it would look like a remake of that old show the Beverly Hillbillies.

“Bianca?”

“Huh?”  She ripped her attention from the gigantic house.

The cab drove away. No one could hear her talking to Ryder, but she still needed to act like they were a couple, or someone watching from inside might suspect a problem.

She tried, and was pretty sure she failed, to pull out a new rendition of her I’m-a-happy-bride face as she turned to Ryder. “Yes, Darlin’?”  

A swirling breeze lifted several tendrils of hair that flicked across her cheeks. She’d almost convinced herself she had everything under control until Ryder brushed her hair back, his knuckles lightly fanning across her cheek.

She stilled.

“Sure you’re ready?”  His low, husky voice wrapped its sexy fingers around her comfort-deprived senses.

No, she wasn’t sure of anything right now. She’d been fine until he’d touched her
again
and sideswiped her composure. Anxiety brought on a bout of vulnerability. That made her feel weak and she hated to feel weak, so the end result was anger.

She bit back the urge to snap and quietly ordered him, “Would you stop doing
that?”
 

“Doing what?”  His mouth curled just a little.

She had a feeling she was witnessing something special when his lips lifted further, into the beginning of a smile. A real one. There was the rascal who had smitten women when he was the hottest eligible Van Dyke before the military and ... prison.

She liked seeing his eyes crinkle, as if he were almost happy, but telling him that would only give him license to keep twisting her nerves into a heated ball of frustration. “Let me save you a lot of trouble.”

“How?”

“You’re attractive, but I’m not wired for seduction.”  Not that she was immune to sexy men, but after having Bernard tell her, “You could turn a rock into jello,” she’d decided to forget about a relationship until she retired from the FBI. By that time she’d be older and would find a man who wanted only a companion.

Someone who wouldn’t accuse her of lacking spontaneity and being the one to ruin sex. No one would ever humiliate her again by claiming she was frigid, then sharing that with half the college, which was so unfair when the pain of intercourse had been just plain unbearable.

She hadn’t considered sex since then. Especially once Bernard told her he’d made the mistake of slumming with a hick, and tossed Bianca aside for a new woman better suited to his social standing.