Chapter One Seraphina #2
While numbers didn’t lie, neither did vibes. And even with my back to him, I could tell he had good ones. I’d sell myself on that idea, at least. Give myself one more minute.
When he finally let me go, I blinked back to reality, remembering an important detail that killed the moment I shouldn’t have been having in the first place. “No one is allowed on the third floor.”
“I apologize. I wasn’t aware.” His sexy, gravelly voice lured me into turning around.
When our eyes met, I realized the battle had only just begun. Forget the zipper. I was about to go to war with myself, unsure whether or not I should give in to the kind of temptation I thought I’d said goodbye to long ago, and for good reason.
My mystery man dragged his thumb along the underside of his chin while studying me with the same unmistakable desire he no doubt saw in my eyes. And not in the way Ezra and Wade looked at me. No, this was different. This was something more . It was as confusing as it was surreal.
He brought his knuckles over to his stubbled jawline next, swiping the back of his hand along his skin as if in a daze, further stoking the flames of this need taking hold of me.
This feeling, this ... whatever it was happening to me, had me stepping closer when it should’ve sent me back.
Staring into his eyes made me realize I missed more than just the touch of a man. I missed my life B.E. Before Ezra.
My family.
My friends. (I only had two good ones, but that’d been enough for me.)
I missed laughing, too.
Hell, even crying during a movie.
“Who are you?” I needed a name. I needed to know who he was and how he was capable of cracking through my walls designed for self-preservation.
“Not sure how to answer that.” The small smile that settled on his lips felt genuine, but it was also powerful enough to continue doing what I’d thought was impossible: open up my heart.
These feelings were as dangerous as they were unexpected, and it took all my strength to try to redirect. To remind myself why I’d left my life behind. “Well, um, a friend or associate of Mr. Sokolov’s would know better than to come up to the third floor.”
“You’re right. I’m neither.” His honesty was the breath of fresh air I’d come outside for.
My bottom lip took asylum between my teeth as I waited for him to fill in the blanks I hadn’t asked for while I studied him.
To investigate the way darkness didn’t blanket him like the other men I’d been around.
Not that there was a halo above his head, either, but there sure as hell was something drawing me to him aside from his devastatingly good looks.
Based on the slight crinkles around his eyes and the few fine lines across his forehead, I’d guess he was in his mid- to late thirties. And speaking of those eyes ...
They were the most beautiful shade of blue green I’d ever seen in person. They reminded me of the waters off the coast of Aruba.
His eyes also told a story of a man who really had seen his fair share of battles, and maybe that was why I felt connected to him. Maybe he had a tough past too, and so we could relate on some unspoken level.
He reached for my wrist, and a shaky exhalation escaped my lips at the feel of his hand on me. He held my arm between us and skimmed his finger along the phrase tattooed on the inside of my forearm.
The featherlight touch emboldened me to take another step forward, lulling me into a false sense of safety that could never truly exist inside Ezra’s home.
“ You are your only limit, ” he said, reading the words inscribed there, the pad of his thumb softly moving over my skin.
I blinked a few times, trying to pull myself back together but failing. “Who are you?” I had to try again; the need to know was too strong.
“I’m just ...” He gently guided my arm to my side, though his fingers remained softly around my wrist.
“Just what?” The words broke from my mouth like breaths of dying air, desperate for one last moment of life before they were extinguished forever.
When he didn’t answer, my attention found a new home—on his body, which was close enough to mine that it wouldn’t take much for us to be flush against one another.
Broad chest and shoulders. Strong arms. Corded forearms exposed with his sleeves rolled to the elbows. If I removed his dress shirt, I bet I’d find a rippling wall of hard abdominal muscles.
He let go of my wrist and cupped his mouth, probably as shocked as I was at this thing happening between us. Unidentified flying objects made more sense right about now than the magnetism drawing two strangers together.
His hand left his mouth, taking a detour up into his hair. Golden brown and thick. Medium length and slightly wavy, flipping up a touch off to the sides. I had to resist the urge to dive my fingers through it.
“Your name, please.” If I knew his name, surely I’d find out he was a bad guy. Then I could break the spell. Lose this odd connection. Tuck my old life away into the past, where it had to stay to keep me safe. Return to my current status quo of numb, angry, and detached.
His forehead tightened, and those lines of defiance told me his lips were going to be a steel trap in not providing a name. “I don’t think that’s a good idea unless you tell me you don’t work for the Sokolovs.”
I nearly answered with the truth, but the rational side of my brain returned, restoring a hint of logic to the chaos swirling there. “I’m one of Ezra’s accountants.” Those words burned going down like cheap tequila.
“Accountant.” No question mark in his tone.
More like he was testing out the word to see how it sounded, and he didn’t like it.
No disdain for math, but maybe some for my boss.
“Any chance you’d consider a career change to work for someone else?
” He maintained that rigid, tense posture as if also holding his breath in the hope I’d say yes.
If only it were that simple. “That almost sounds like a job offer.”
Without hesitation, he offered, “I’d create a position for you, if you’d take it.”
“It’d never work,” I admitted, my throat thickening.
“Why not?” He didn’t sound offended, more so saddened by that fact.
“I never mix business with pleasure.” One step closer.
Just one more would be safe without going too far, without throwing everything I’d worked for away for one hot night.
“I get the feeling that’d be a hard-fought battle I might lose with you,” I confessed.
“And I’m not in the position to fail at anything right now.
” Even if I want to taste defiance on my tongue in the form of a kiss from you.
“You should go. If Mr. Sokolov finds us ...”
“And you don’t mix business and pleasure with him, I take it?” There wasn’t jealousy there, more like he was searching for reassurance that Ezra had never laid a hand on me.
“Of course not—and also, he’s married.” Maybe he really didn’t know much about the host of the party, which had me even more curious as to what he was doing here.
“Marriage doesn’t mean anything to a man like him.” His tone had quickly gone from silk to leather with that statement. “Has he ever hurt you?”
No, but he will if he finds us here alone. “Do you think I’d tell a stranger if he had?”
He surprised me by reaching for my cheek, a rough hand on my smooth skin somehow the perfect match. “You should leave him,” he said instead of pressing, more than likely formulating his own opinion with my nonanswer.
“It’s complicated.” In so many ways. In every direction that pointed north, south, east, or west, in fact. I’m trapped for as long as it takes.
“I’d happily help you uncomplicate things.”
I couldn’t believe I was standing there wanting to reveal all the why s I was an accountant to an evil man. “I don’t even know you.”
“I think you recognize I’m not like the other men here.” He let go of my face but didn’t back away. He was so close I could smell his cologne, and whatever he was wearing was delicious to my senses. Earthy and sensual. As masculine as his aura.
I was seconds away from letting muscle memory take over. Touch him and let him touch me back. Kiss him and let him give it right back (and probably more).
Time to back away. To break the spell and the moment for good. You’ll die if I don’t. “I can tell you’re not like the others, but you can’t help. I’m sorry. Thank you, though.”
His jaw hitched, working to the side as if fighting a much tougher battle than my zipper. An internal one as to what to do with me.
I didn’t take him for a quitter, but in this case, I had to let him know there was no choice. We had to say goodbye.
He closed his eyes and released a deep breath, the battle waging on.
Mere inches separated our breaths from tangling, our bodies from touching. The temptation was too great, so I staggered back.
“Ryder.” He dropped the name on me in a low, deep voice while opening his eyes. “My name’s Ryder.”
Ryder. Talk about a fitting name for a man like him.
“Do you have a good memory?” he asked before I could respond, and I nodded.
“Memorize my phone number. If you change your mind, you call me. Or text. Whatever you can safely do.” He gave me the digits, then repeated them three more times, and I knew I’d never be able to call him, but I committed the number to memory anyway.
“Goodbye.” I was shocked at the physical pain that one word caused. You’re just a stranger. I’d probably need to hit myself over the head with that reminder in the days to come.
Ryder repeated his number one more time, then gave me a hesitant nod and echoed my goodbye.
I tightened my hands at my sides as I forced myself to watch him walk out of my life.
The fact I nearly let tears obstruct my vision sent me back to the edge of the balcony. Planting my forearms on the railing, I leaned forward and bowed my head, resisting the wild and ridiculous urge to chase after him.
After a few minutes had gone by, and I’d managed to lock up the emotions that didn’t serve me well, I opened my eyes.
Of course Ryder was in my line of sight, because why wouldn’t he be? Testing me, right along with my willpower.
His profile was to me as he lit a cigar. He was the only one outside, even though the storm had stopped an hour or so ago. He must’ve sensed my eyes on him, because he turned and looked up at me.
We maintained eye contact for what felt like a minute. I simply stared at him as he puffed on his cigar, trying to grasp how he seemed to hold the keys to unlocking all these feelings I’d sealed off with dead bolts and barbed wire.
I didn’t trust myself to not surrender to my impulses, so I forced myself to retreat inside.
I barely made it two feet into the bedroom before I slammed into a new problem: Ezra was in the doorway, blocking my exit.
“What’s wrong?” I backed up those two steps I’d taken, recognizing that look in his eyes. Definitely not lust, but anger. Shit, what’d Lev say? I’d forgotten all about him after meeting Ryder.
Ezra dragged his hand up and down the column of his throat while observing me.
“Whatever he said to you is a lie,” I blurted out.
He tipped his head, breathing hard, as if rage was festering and about to boil over and burn me. He stalked even closer, erasing the space between us. “I learned something interesting. It’s amazing what people admit with a knife to their throat.”
“Oh yeah?” I tried to pull off nonchalant when I was anything but. “What?”
He backed me up against the wall by the balcony doors. Then parked his hand over my shoulder and caged me in. “DEA arrested Lev two weeks ago. Gave him a choice: go undercover for them or rot in a cell forever.”
Shit. I had to keep it together. “Let me get this straight—not only was he stealing from you, he was working for the DEA?” Maybe he risked skimming from Ezra to fund his escape from both him and the agency? “Did you kill him?”
“Of course.” He shifted closer, letting me feel the erection in his dress pants. “But as for you ...” With his other hand, he reached up and unexpectedly forced my hair down from its pinned-up position.
I hid the wince of pain so he wouldn’t get off on it. “What about me?”
“Lev said the DEA has someone else on the inside looking to stab me in the back.” Fisting my hair, he tugged, drawing my chin up and my mouth closer to his. “I really hope he’s wrong about it being you.”
He pushed away from the wall without letting go of my hair and produced his favorite weapon of choice.
“Like I said, it’s amazing what people confess with a knife to their throat.
” He pressed the blade against my sensitive flesh.
“Tell me, has my favorite accountant been a bad girl? Have you been deceiving me all this time?” The knife pinched my skin but didn’t draw blood. “Are you working for the DEA, too?”