Lost in Her (11 page)

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Authors: Sandra Owens

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Lost in Her
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“Where do you think?”

Had she forgotten to turn the air on? Because suddenly she felt like she was on fire. “Ryan?” The nerves she’d felt earlier had disappeared, and she wanted to get in her car and drive right back over to his place so she could watch as he touched himself.

“Mmm?”

Her landline rang and she glanced at the caller ID. Why was David calling her so late at night? He never had before. “Hold on a sec.” She set her cell aside and picked up her home phone. “I’ll be there shortly,” she said after listening to what he had to say.

She sighed in frustration. Her conversation with Ryan had ventured into foreign lands—for her, anyway—and she wanted nothing more than to stay and see just where his phone sex would take her. But someone had broken into the hangar and gotten to her plane. Damn. Damn. Damn.

“Ryan, that was the FBO manager on the phone. I have to go.”

“What happened?”

His sexy, intimate voice had disappeared, replaced by an alert,
what dragon do I need to slay for you
one.

No way she would involve him in her problems. This thing between them was only a game, and he owed her nothing. “Not your problem,” she said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Are you headed over to the airport?”

“Yes. Gotta go.” She clicked off before he could ask any more questions, and before she found herself telling him her problems and leaning on him to take care of them. They weren’t his responsibility.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
he airport’s lobby was locked and it was dark inside when Ryan arrived, but he had noticed light pouring out of an open hangar door along the side of the building. Heading that way, he slowed at the entrance and studied the scene before him.

Charlie squatted under what he guessed was her stunt plane, peering up at the underbelly. Two men—one he recognized from the news segment as the airport manager—stood by with their hands on their hips. Each had the look of a man wary of what might come their way.

“What the hell?” Charlie said, her voice muffled.

In unison, the two men took a step back. They were afraid of his Charlie, and that made Ryan smile. He eased up behind them. “Someone mess with her plane?” he asked, and both men startled, swiveling as one to gape at him. “I’m Ryan O’Connor, a friend of Charlene’s,” he said, and held out his hand to the one he knew was the airport’s manager.

“Who’s Charlene?” the other man asked.

“He means Charlie, you idiot,” the airport manager said, shaking Ryan’s hand. “I’m David Haydon, the manager of this place.”

“I know.” Ignoring Haydon’s surprised reaction, Ryan turned to the second man. “And you are?”

“Gary Thomas, the head mechanic.”

“Is that the cops you’re talking to?” Charlie asked from under the plane.

Ryan shook his head at the men to keep quiet, then scooted up behind her. Anticipating her reaction, he held his hand over her head to keep her from banging into the plane. “There a problem here, Charlie?”

She jerked back and plowed her head into his palm. “Ryan? What’re you doing here?”

“You’re my girlfriend. Where else should I be when you’ve got trouble?” Something flickered in her eyes, and if he wasn’t mistaken, there was gratitude to go with her surprise. He caught her scent, and breathed her in. She was right, she did smell like jasmine with a hint of vanilla, and he did want to lick her. That would have to wait, however.

“What’s going on?” he asked. Her eyes shifted to the bottom of her plane, and he followed her gaze. What the hell? “Why is there a black pentagram spray-painted on your plane?”

“Because someone wants me to crash and burn maybe? So they’re putting a curse on me?” Her voice trembled as she spoke.

Ryan took her hand and pulled her out from under the aircraft. “There’s no such thing as curses; you know that, right?”

“I know, but things have been happening to my plane, and now they’re trying to mess with my mind.”

“Whoa. Back up a minute. What’s this about things happening?”

Instead of answering, she turned to the airport manager. “You called the police, right?”

The man crossed his arms over his chest, and shook his head. “No.”

“Why not, David? Someone broke in. How do you know they haven’t done something to any of the other planes?”

“Gary will check them out, but I’m sure it’s only yours they messed with.”

Ryan swallowed a grin as she got in Haydon’s face, backing up a man twice her size. “You’re avoiding my question,” she said, poking him in the chest. “Why didn’t you call the cops?”

The woman was amazing. Where Kathleen would have turned to him to fight her battles, Charlie seemed perfectly capable of fighting her own. Who knew he would like that? What he did know was that the cops would more or less yawn over someone’s amateur attempt to curse her.

“It’s bad PR, Charlie. I’m not calling the cops.” Haydon took another step back. “I’ll hire a nighttime security guard, okay?”

“Not okay,” Charlie said, her voice rising. “Forget it. I’ll call them myself.”

Ryan decided it was time to step between them before she completely lost her temper. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her away from her assault on Haydon. “I can help, but you need to tell me what’s been going on from the beginning.”

She leaned her head against him and sighed. “I’m not your problem, Ryan.”

Seriously? He lowered his mouth to her ear. “You will never be a problem, cherub.” He put his hand on her elbow, and then turned to the airport manager. “Take us to your office.”

Close to an hour later, Ryan sat back in his chair. “And you didn’t think to tell me any of this?” he asked, looking straight at Charlie, wanting to shake her for not trusting him enough to tell him what was going on in her life.

“It’s not your problem,” she answered, apparently fascinated by the hem of her T-shirt where she twisted it around a finger.

That burned. “I’m getting tired of hearing you say that.” He lifted a chin toward Haydon, and the man took the hint and left, towing the head mechanic with him. When they were alone, he turned his chair so he was facing her. “Charlie, who in your life do you trust?”

“Myself.”

He was struck by how fast she answered, with no hesitation. If ever he was in trouble and he wanted his family’s help, all he had to do was pick up the phone. Within a day of his call, his parents and all of his siblings would be on his doorstep. Just because he hadn’t chosen to burden them with his secrets didn’t mean he didn’t know they were there for him if he ever needed them. That she didn’t feel she had anyone to lean on made him that much more determined to prove he was there for her.

“Do you know who would do something like that?” he asked.

Still picking at her shirt, she looked up at him. “You really don’t have to bother yourself with this. I don’t see what you can do about it anyway.”

Quelling his temper, he leaned back in his chair. “I want to bother myself with whatever this is all about. As for what I can do, you might be surprised. I don’t think I’ve mentioned my talents. I’m a former SEAL, and if you know anything about the SEALs, then you know we’re highly trained, not to mention, we’re kick-ass bad.” He smiled when she widened her eyes. “I told you I work for K2 Special Services, and we . . . well, I can’t tell you exactly what we do as most of it’s classified, but I’m still highly trained and still kick-ass bad. I can help you, Charlie.”

He hesitated a moment before continuing. “If someone hadn’t actually tried to sabotage not just your personal plane, but your instructor one, I’d chalk the pentagram up to a prank. But this is serious shit, and you need me.”

The woman who tried not to need anyone let out a sigh, one that sounded like relief. For a moment there, he’d thought she was going to refuse his offer, and when she did, he was going to run right over her refusal. Thankful it hadn’t come to that, he leaned forward and took both her hands in his.

“Whoever’s doing this wants to scare you. You get that, right?”

“I get it,” she said as she stared down at their joined hands. “And he’s doing a damn good job of it if you want the truth.”

“Charlie,” he said and waited for her to look up at him. “I’ll kill him before I’ll let him hurt you. We never got to finish our phone sex, and no asshole’s gonna take that away from us. Okay?”

Giving him a little smile, which was what he’d been going for, she nodded. “Okay. What do we need to do?”

The trust in those blue-gray eyes about floored him, and he felt a very male need to be a hero to her. “We need to make a list of everyone you suspect.” He reached over and grabbed a notepad and pen from the nearby desk.

Thirty minutes later, he sat back and eyed the short list of three names. With each one, he’d urged her to tell him why she might suspect that person. He no longer wondered if she was alone in this world. She had been. But now she had him.

“Okay, cherub, there’s nothing more we can do about this tonight, so I’m going to follow you home. You need to get some rest. Tomorrow, I’ll start doing a little investigating. Okay?”

A soft sigh and a weary nod told him she was tired, and seemed to be grateful he was taking charge. He stood and pulled her up, then wrapped his arms around her and held her close for a few moments. The only reason he didn’t scoop her up and carry her to her car was because he knew it would embarrass her in front of her coworkers. Instead, he tucked her under his arm and walked with her back into the hangar.

“Gary found some red paint that almost matches your plane,” Haydon said as they approached.

She pulled away and went to her plane, then bent at the waist and peered underneath. Apparently, she was more than pleased with the result as she practically threw herself at Gary and hugged him.

Without taking his gaze from her, Ryan asked Haydon, “Do you trust him?”

“Who? Gary?”

Ryan nodded.

“He would never do anything to hurt Charlie.”

For her sake, he hoped that was true. It was obvious that she really liked both men, but Ryan would hold his opinion of them until he checked them out. In his line of work, he’d learned never to trust anyone, and Kathleen had taught him a new lesson. Even those you believed you could trust would betray you.

Charlie backed out from under her plane. Just seeing the pentagram painted over and gone from sight eased her mind. “Thanks, man,” she said, giving Gary one more hug.

His cheeks turned pink, and he shrugged. “Not that I believe in any of that shit, but it was creepy, you know?”

Yeah, she knew. Whoever was out to get her had apparently given up on trying to damage her plane and had turned to trying to mess with her mind. Was it a coincidence that it was happening right before the upcoming air show? Aaron had waited too late to get his application in—something she used to do for him—so he wasn’t on the program. Instead of blaming himself for that, maybe he worked it around in his mind until he could reason out blaming her. But to want to kill her?

As she turned from Gary, her gaze fell on Ryan. Although talking quietly to David, he focused his attention on her. What was he thinking? That he’d gotten more than he bargained for where she was concerned? Did he think she was nothing but trouble? If so, both her stepsister and stepfather would agree with him. Her stepfather was counting on wearing her down until she recanted her testimony, so she didn’t think he wanted her dead. But Ashley? She would be ecstatic if Charlie disappeared from the face of the earth.

The man patiently waiting for her, though, was the only person orbiting her world right then that she trusted. As she paused to take him in, it occurred to her that she’d never been tempted before to literally drool over a man, but that one, sheesh, she could give a slobbering hound dog a run for his money. With those awesome colored eyes, the broad shoulders, trim waist, and lean hips, he was definitely Hot Guy. One side of his lips curved up as if he knew she was drinking him in, and he winked.

How sexy was that? A smile that she was sure was high-school-girl silly curved her own lips, and she went to him like a woman in a trance.

When she reached him, he pulled her to him and tucked her up under his arm, a place he seemed to like her being, and she loved it there. Aaron had never tucked her next to him as if she were the most important thing in his life.

“Ready to go home, cherub?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m tired.” And she was. Of whoever wanted to see her dead, of a stepsister who hated her, of a stepfather who wouldn’t leave her alone, and of an ex-boyfriend who had never held her close the way Ryan did.

Even though she told him he didn’t need to follow her home, he insisted. As his headlights reflected in her rearview mirror, she thought back to the moment when she became aware of him under the plane, squatting next to her. She had almost fallen on her butt from the surprise of hearing his voice near her ear.

A part of her had wanted to send him away, the part that had been forced to take care of herself from the time she was fifteen years old. The other half, the side she hadn’t known existed until then, wanted to lean into him and put her troubles into his obviously capable hands. And as she’d felt the comforting heat of him next to her, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she didn’t need him.

When she pulled into her driveway, she expected him to blink his lights and go on his way. Once again, he surprised her by pulling up behind her, turning off his car, and walking up to her door. She didn’t miss how he scanned the area around them, his body reminding her of a sleek jungle cat, tense and ready to pounce. Once he seemed satisfied that all was well, he opened her car door.

As he liked to do, he tucked her into him, but this time she had the impression he was making himself a body shield. Not since her father had died had anyone, including her mother, acted as her protector, and tears stung her eyes that it was a man she barely knew who had stepped into the role.

Her efficiency apartment was up one flight of stairs, and when they came around the corner and she saw her front door, she stumbled. The pentagram painted in ominous black was just too much, and she tried to back up.

Ryan tightened his arm around her. “Give me your key,” he said.

It was then she noticed the gun he held down by his right leg.

“Whoa, cowboy, do you really need that?”

“Let’s hope not.”

Her hands shook as she dug into her purse, and that just pissed her off. Seriously, who drew pentagrams, anyway? Pretend witches? She’d never met one in her life, and the only person on her list of suspects who would play this kind of game was her stepsister.

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