Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2) (19 page)

“Ryann, look at me.”

She didn’t want to look at him. She feared if she did, he’d see the truth. The truth of how much that kiss in there affected her. How having him pull her against him and call her his girl melted one more layer of ice she’d been working so hard to build around her heart. Watching him stake his claim as he grappled for control, when she knew he wanted to hit that guy for flirting with her, made Ryann feel wanted—owned. It was a feeling she never would have thought she’d enjoy, but coming from Aiden, it was a heady experience.

If she wasn’t careful, she was going to lose her heart to this man. Especially after the kindness and concern he’d shown for her in the station. She no longer had any doubt he would help her. Aiden had his chance to leave her, and he hadn’t taken it. Gratitude fractured her last vestiges of control, and the willpower she’d been clinging to in an attempt to keep them from crossing the line she’d redrawn this morning was all but shredded.

So no, he didn’t know what she was doing. He had no idea how hard it was for her not to leap across this center console and throw herself at him right now. And to think he might actually have been jealous! The idea warmed her to her very core, because she knew men like Aiden did not get jealous. So if he was, even a little bit, did that mean just maybe he felt something for her, too? The hope that blossomed in her chest had swiftly scared the shit out of her, which in turn had spurred her to lash out in a failed attempt at self-preservation.

“Ryann, look at me.”

When his second request got the same result, he reached over and gently but firmly took her chin, turning her head to face him. Damn, he was too gorgeous for words . . .

“You’re going to have to talk about it, you know. Fighting with me and pushing me away isn’t doing either one of us any favors. You’ve gotta help me help you, Ryann.”

But pushing him away might be her only saving grace. She wasn’t sure how much more close-quarters with him she could take. Opening up to Aiden would require her to give him something she wasn’t sure she was prepared to part with—her trust. She’d have to tell him everything, about her father and about Moralli. Although in that moment of panic she’d so glibly made the promise to do just that, now that it was time to bare her soul, she wasn’t sure she could do that and still keep it.

“And if you must know the truth . . . I was insanely jealous back there.”

She gave him a weak smile, returning his boyish grin. A bubble of laughter caught in her throat. How sweet . . . This was his olive branch. For Aiden to admit to any emotion that might be perceived as weakness was a true miracle in itself.

“And that smile . . . Sweetheart, I want to be the only male on the receiving end of that beauty.”

Oh, he was good. And she would have told him so if that unguarded honesty in his eyes hadn’t rocked her to her very core. That unmistakable spark of connection she’d momentarily experienced last night was back in full force, and she was done for—all defenses obliterated. Meeting his stare, she was helpless to do anything other than nod like a simpering mute. But after the smile she got in return, she was pretty sure she would have agreed to anything at this point.

“So it looks like I owe you one fancy dinner. What do you say we table this talk about Moralli and enjoy the night out together? We’ll pick this convo up tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of miles to kill between here and Manhattan.”

Grateful for the reprieve, she thought that sounded like the best idea she’d heard in a long time.

CHAPTER

 19 

A
iden wasn’t used to having to make concessions, but where Ryann was concerned, it seemed like that was all he did. Had he really confessed to being jealous? Briefly, his conversation with Katie came back to haunt him like the ghost of Christmas Past. She was so confident he’d meet someone that would turn his world upside down. Well, that pretty much summed up Ryann in a nutshell.

“I feel underdressed,” she complained, checking out her backside in the mirror.

Aiden hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed. Stretched out, legs crossed at the ankles, hands laced behind his head, he watched Ryann fuss over her appearance. Didn’t she know how beautiful she was? If she asked him, he’d have told her all that primping and makeup was completely unnecessary. But she didn’t ask, and he didn’t offer. He’d already said too much as it was.

“You look fine.”

Apparently,
fine
was a cardinal sin, because she shot him a scowl and grumbled, “Gee, thanks.”

Deliberately ignoring her snark, he said, “No problem. You about ready to go?”

“Just a minute. Don’t rush me. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve been out on a date?”

Wait, what? Was that what this was? Suddenly, he was the one feeling underdressed, and more than a little anxious. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a real date, because he was pretty sure booty calls didn’t count. Ryann must have seen the
oh, shit
look on his face because she blushed and quickly stammered, “I didn’t mean an actual
date
date. Like you and me.”

Yes, she did. Otherwise she wouldn’t have said it. And that added a whole other element to this “night out” scenario. He’d wanted to take her out because he didn’t think he could stand being cooped up in this tiny room with her all evening and keep his hands to himself. He’d hoped getting her out in public would help him govern his urge to fuck her blind. It never occurred to him that Ryann might have thought this was something more. But if she had, it was probably his fault. He knew he was sending her mixed signals, not that she hadn’t been sending a few of her own. Right now, he felt like a pendulum, swinging between his wants and desires and the bone-deep knowledge that it would be a mistake to get physically involved with her—any more than he already had, he amended.

Bottom line, there was something between them, but that didn’t mean they should let it go anywhere. If he knew what was good for him, he’d keep Ryann at a distance, and once they got to New York, they would go their separate ways. He’d deal with his parents, Ryann would get her money and do whatever it was she needed to do to get Moralli off her back. Then he would return to Vegas, start some rehab on his shoulder, and pretend this whole fucked-up thing never happened.

And you’d think that all that head knowledge would have caught up with his mouth because in the next two seconds he was asking, “How long has it been? Since you were on a date?” He had to clarify that question because it could have meant so many other things—things he was dying to know but had no business asking.

She shrugged as if the answer were inconsequential and spared him the briefest glance. Mercy, she looked hot in those dark-wash skinny jeans that hugged her curves just right. Her heather-gray sweater was one of those numbers that molded to her. She’d pulled her mass of red, wavy hair into a bun and pinned it on top of her head. With her hair swept up like that, she looked young—too damn young for the thoughts that were running through his mind right now. The touch of makeup aged her just enough that he didn’t feel like a total perv.

“How old are you, Ryann?”

She glanced at him through the reflection in the mirror as she skated a sheer gloss over her full, ripe lips. She rubbed them together, smoothing out the gloss, then ran her finger along the border, wiping off the excess. His cock instantly became hard as he watched her apply the finishing touches. It took all his restraint not to go over there and kiss it right off that lush mouth of hers. If she’d sensed the wicked direction of his thoughts, she didn’t acknowledge it, which might have been her only saving grace.

“I’m twenty-six. Why?”

Now it was his turn to shrug. “Just wondering. You look younger with your hair pulled up.”

She turned toward him, her hand subconsciously lifting to her bun. “You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

As if his legs had a mind of their own, they swung over the side of the bed and he was on his feet and advancing on her before he even realized he’d moved. Aiden stopped in front of her and lifted his hands, framing her face. “Ryann, I’m trying really hard to be good here. But you’re making it really hard to do the right thing. So I’m only going to tell you this once, you look absolutely gorgeous. It doesn’t matter what you put on, or how you fix your hair, you’re stunning no matter what. So unless you want to stay here and let me prove to you just how hot you make me, then we need to go. Now.”

But she wasn’t heeding his warning. This was him telling her to leave, to go get in that car before he said or did something they’d surely regret—well, she would, anyway, because the one thing he was learning about Ryann was that she did not do casual sex. When she’d let him touch her, it had meant something—he’d felt it in her uninhibited response to his touch.

“Twelve months.”

“Excuse me?”

“Twelve months. That’s how long it’s been since I was on a date. Since my fiancé and I broke up.”

He gave her a surprised look. “Fiancé, huh? How long were you together?”

“Four years.”

“What happened?” A flash of pain crossed her face that immediately put her ex on Aiden’s shit list. He didn’t even need to know what happened. All that mattered was that prick had hurt Ryann.

“You don’t want to hear about this . . .”

She cast her gaze to the floor and tried to back away, but he wouldn’t let her go that easily. “I do. I’m really curious to know what kind of an idiot would be stupid enough to fuck up a four-year relationship with you.”

She laughed, the soft and melodic sound hitting him right in the gut. “I’m warning you, it’s a pretty ugly story.”

“Can’t be any uglier than some of mine.”

“Oh, trust me, this one’s going to win.”

“I tell you what, let’s get out of here and we’ll swap stories on the way to the restaurant. We’ll see who has the worst one.”

Her delicate brow arched in question. “What will I win?” she asked, her voice dropping a soft, husky octave.

“What do you want?”

She laid her palm against his chest, sending a current of energy straight into his dick. How was it possible that such an innocent touch could pack such a punch? Could she feel his heart hammering against his rib cage?

“Surprise me.” Without giving him a backward glance, she dropped her hand and turned away. Grabbing her purse off the chair, she sauntered out the door.

“No way.”

“Yep, true story.”

“I’ll kill him. Do you want me to kill him? Cuz I’ll do it.”

Ryann laughed, which surprised her, because there was nothing funny about your maid of honor fucking your fiancé a week before you were supposed to walk down the aisle and vow
until death do us part
. She hadn’t talked about it since it happened, not to anyone—not her father or her friends—so it surprised her that she was actually doing so now. Aiden was easy to talk to—easier than she’d thought. That he’d championed her throughout her story had made it easier to share the harder parts.

Her tale had taken longer than the car ride to Suzie’s Steak and Seafood House. Apparently “fancy restaurant” was a relative term in Portage but, hey, at least she wasn’t underdressed. The place was cozy and rustic with knotty pine walls and a large stone fireplace in the center of the restaurant. Aiden had gotten them a table near the roaring fire and it was actually very quaint and, dare she think it . . . romantic. Her glass of Lambrusco was nearly gone, and she was feeling warm and tingly all over by the time she finished her story.

Aiden was three-quarters of the way through a dark brew from the tap, his attention fixed solely on her. If he noticed the attention he attracted, he paid no mind to it. Then again, he was probably used to that sort of thing. As for her, someone who preferred the shadow to the limelight, it was a bit unsettling. But the wine seemed to take the edge off, and she enthusiastically agreed to another glass when their waiter came by.

Aiden chuckled. “You seem nervous.”

“Do I? Well, I suppose that’s to be expected after sharing a story like that. To tell you the truth, I’m not really used to all the attention.”

His pierced brow quirked in question. “What do you mean?”

“Look around—half the women here are staring at you.”

His amber gaze broke away from hers long enough to take a quick glance around the room, before locking back on her, looking entirely unimpressed. “It’s not me they’re interested in, it’s Disco.”

“Oh, they’re interested.”

“Does it bother you? We can leave if you’d like.” Aiden drained his glass, set it on the table and scooted his chair back. Before he could rise, Ryann laid her hand on his arm, stopping him.

“No. That’s all right. I don’t want to leave. I was just making an observation, though I can’t promise after I finish this next glass of wine that I won’t give them something to talk about.”

Aiden laughed, a husky, masculine rumble that sent shivers into all her feminine places, sparking a slow burning fire of need deep in her core—a fire she knew from experience only Aiden could quench.

“Be my guest, sweetheart, though you’ve got nothing to worry about. Those women have nothing on you.”

“How would you know?” she scoffed. “You haven’t even looked at them.”

“I don’t have to. I’m looking at you.”

If he kept that up, Ryann was going to drag him into that restroom down the hall and jump him like a pogo stick. Wow, was it getting hot in here or was it just her? Perhaps she could have blamed her flush on the fireplace, but there was no excuse for the moisture in her panties other than raw, hot need.

Gone was that arrogant, cocky fighter that oozed superficial charms. No, this was the man she’d sensed all along and briefly glimpsed now and then when his mask of indifference slipped. He was easy to talk to—maybe too easy, for she’d found herself revealing more about herself than she’d intended. The last thing she wanted from this man was his pity. Was all this flattery his misguided attempt to balm the hurt she’d endured over Tyler’s betrayal? God, she hoped not. But just to be sure, she decided to lay the question to rest.

“Aiden, I didn’t tell you that story so you’d feel sorry for me. Sure, it sucked and I went through a bad time, but it was a long time ago. Nine months feels like nine years after burying my father. It wasn’t easy to lose my fiancé or my best friend, but looking back on it now, I know it was for the best. In a crazy way I’m kinda glad it happened.”

“You are?”

“Yeah . . . If Tyler wouldn’t have done what he did, I’d be stuck in a loveless, passionless marriage. I mean, not once in four years did he ever come close to making me feel—”

Abruptly, she cut herself off. Her cheeks flushed hotly when she realized what she’d almost said. Holy shit, this wine must really be getting to her. But he wasn’t letting her off the hook so easily. Just then, the waiter came by and asked Aiden if he wanted another beer. He barely cast the guy the briefest glance while nodding, because Aiden’s whole attention was solely focused on her. It was a heady feeling, having the full weight of those amber-flecked eyes locked on her.