Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“Y ou don’t need to fuss.” Siv bit back a snarl as Saxon pressed some gauze harder to her side.
“Siv, you’re bleeding everywhere. If one of your team on a mission was bleeding, what would you do?”
Get the medic to treat them. She huffed out a breath.
They were in the medical room at the Norcross Security office. Vander had converted an old warehouse for the space. The inside was a masterpiece of modern, industrial design—gleaming wood, black-metal accents, glass-walled offices.
Vander kept the medical room well-stocked. The walls were lined with shelves filled with boxes and containers of supplies.
Siv shifted on the bunk. “You’re bleeding, too.”
Saxon studied the bloody cloth wrapped around his hand. “Gia is going to be pissed.”
Saxon was engaged to Gia Norcross, Vander’s sister. The small, feisty brunette was a PR executive, and wasn’t shy about sharing her feelings.
The door opened.
“Looks like you two got yourselves into some trouble, I see,” a male voice drawled.
Siv’s head whipped up. She worked hard to keep her face neutral and locked down her irritating response to Ryder Morgan.
“Get in here and stop this bleeding,” Saxon grumbled.
Ryder sauntered in. The man didn’t walk, no, he moved with this glide that instantly made a woman wonder how good he’d be in bed.
Dritt . Shit . Stop obsessing, Siv.
He set his backpack down. He was wearing blue scrubs, so she guessed he’d come from work, and they somehow looked outrageously hot on him. His thick, brown hair, not quite long enough to brush his shoulders, was tied back in a short tail.
He glanced up and green eyes met hers. They weren’t dark, but were a lighter shade of green with faint flecks of gold.
He smiled at her. “You wanted my hands on you so badly that you got yourself sliced up?”
This man was the charming bad boy that every mother warned her daughter about. And cocky as hell.
“Yes, I organized the bad guy with the knife to cut me just so I could see you, Morgan.” Her words dripped with sarcasm.
Her tone did nothing to dim his smile. Her best barbs seem to slide right off this man.
He grabbed some latex gloves off the shelf. “Saxon, let me see your hand.”
Saxon held it out.
Siv had seen bad injuries before—in training and in combat. She didn’t flinch at the sight of gore and blood.
“Wash it, then put this on.” Ryder slapped a tube of something at Saxon. “After, I’ll glue it, and then bandage it.” He winked. “Then Gia can play nurse.” Ryder turned to Siv. “Now, my lovely Norwegian flower, top off.”
“I’ll wash up in the kitchen.” Saxon slipped out.
Siv looked at the wall. The military had cured her of any shyness about stripping and undressing in front of other people. She tried to pull her shirt up, but her side pulled. She winced.
“Hang on.” He leaned closer.
She stared at a wall of hard chest. The remnants of his citrusy cologne, mixed with the scent of healthy male, hit her. Her body lit up like fireworks.
Siv gritted her teeth.
She’d come to America for a change. To leave men and the problems they caused behind. Why did her body go haywire anytime this one was close?
She would never let him know how he affected her. She knew his type: handsome, charming, used to women falling at his feet. She’d spent her formative years being raised by one, and then had dated one.
She stayed stiff as Ryder pulled her shirt off. She had to hand it to him, his touch was brisk and professional.
He gave her black bra a brief glance, then frowned at her wound. He made an unhappy sound.
“Oh, you’ve made a real mess of yourself.”
“It was the bad guy.”
“Lie back.” He helped her lie on the bunk. “I hope you decked him.”
“Saxon and I tackled him. Hard.”
“Good.” Ryder opened something, then she heard a slosh. He wiped her cut and she hissed at the sting.
“Sorry, I need to kill the germs. I’ll give you something for the pain.”
She grunted.
He swiftly cleaned it and made a sympathetic sound.
Siv glanced at his face. Damn him for being so gorgeous. Not in a pretty way. No, Ryder Morgan was all man: rugged with a sexy edge.
“I’m going to glue most of it, but one cut will need a couple of stitches,” he told her.
She nodded.
“It’ll leave a bit of a scar, but I’ll make my stitches as neat as I can.”
She shrugged. “I have other scars.”
His green gaze flicked up to hers. “Me, too.”
She rolled her eyes. “You sound proud.”
“I can show you, if you think I’m lying. We can compare.”
Traitorous heat coiled in her belly as she imagined seeing every inch of his hard body. Damn this out-of-control desire. “I’m good.” She looked at the ceiling.
Ryder got to work. He gave her painkillers and swiped something on her skin to numb the area.
Saxon reappeared and Ryder dealt with gluing the man’s hand.
“I’m heading home,” Saxon said. “Thanks for the help tonight, Siv.”
“Thanks, Saxon. I hope Gia doesn’t give you too much of a hard time.”
The man smiled—slow and sexy. “She will. Then she’ll feel a strong need to take care of me.”
A swift pang of…something hit Siv. It was clear the handsome man adored his fiancée. And when she got back to her new, almost-empty apartment, there wouldn’t be anyone who felt a need to take care of her.
“See you tomorrow,” Saxon said. “Take it easy, Siv.” The door closed behind him.
“Right, let’s get you fixed up.” Ryder dragged a stool over.
Siv stared at the ceiling as he got to work. He was gentle. It surprised her. She’d pegged him as an arrogant charmer, but Vander was no one’s fool, and he clearly trusted this man with his people’s health and well-being.
“Okay?” Ryder asked.
She nodded. Her fingers curled into her palms. She was so damn aware of him.
She couldn’t resist looking down. His big hands moved gently over her skin. The man knew what he was doing.
He had tattoos on one arm, and her gaze traced the black ink covering his strong forearm. She saw overlapping scales and swirls. It looked like it was part of a dragon.
She looked at the blue fabric of his scrubs and wondered what the rest of the tattoo looked like.
“I wish I’d seen it,” he said.
She blinked. “What?”
“I wish I’d seen you in action.” He grinned. “There’s nothing sexier than watching a badass woman take a bad guy down.”
She stared at him. Was he serious?
He pressed a bandage to her side. “Keep it dry. I’ll check on it tomorrow.” He gave it a little pat, causing sensation to skate through her body.
She nodded and sat up.
His gaze dropped, and his smile widened.
“I like your skirt.” Then he spun around and reached over to a shelf and pulled off a plain, black T-shirt. “Your pretty, green shirt is ruined, I’m afraid.”
She pulled the large T-shirt on. Why did this man affect her so much? She’d been well known for her cool control on her FSK team. The Forsvarets Spesialkommando were the best special forces unit in the Norwegian Armed Forces.
She’d dated Johan for a year and had never felt this driving need to get her hands on him. Ryder confused her. She’d thought she had him pegged, but he kept surprising her. His competent, professional demeanor clashed with her idea of the cocky playboy.
“You did well, Siv.” He pulled a lollipop from his pocket and handed it to her. “Now, I’m going to drop you home, and maybe you can try and stay out of knife fights for a day or two.”
“I’ll try,” she replied dryly.
She took the candy. What she really needed to do was to stay away from Ryder Morgan.
* * *
The next day, Ryder finished restocking the back of the ambulance.
His shift was almost over, and they’d had a hell of a day.
A fire, several car accidents, two overdoses, and a heart attack.
He rubbed the back of his neck. They’d lost a young woman at one of the car accidents. He blew out a breath.
He knew he couldn’t save every patient, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“Morgan.”
He looked up. “Sir?”
Captain Shane Ferguson was a neat, trim, fit man who wore his uniform well and ran Fire Station No. 2 with a firm hand. “I wanted a chat.”
“Sure thing. This rig is clean and restocked.” Ryder leaped out and closed the back doors. “What did you need, Captain?”
“I want to try and convince you to take a full-time paramedic position. You’re damn good, and we need the help.”
The captain tried a few times a month to get Ryder to go full-time.
“Part-time suits me.” When Ryder had first gotten out of the Air Force, it had taken a while to readjust. The pressure of full-time hadn’t been what he’d needed then.
Now he was busy, between paramedic shifts, working at the clinic, and helping at Norcross Security. A part of him liked giving back at the free clinic.
Easton Norcross, Vander’s older brother, was a savvy billionaire businessman. He’d helped all of them invest their money. Early on, Ryder had saved all his money while he’d been in the military. Being on active duty, he hadn’t needed much.
Now, he owned a place in Chinatown that had six apartments and a couple of shops downstairs. One apartment was his, and if he wanted to, he could live quite happily on the rental incomes and still cover the mortgage.
But healing, helping someone who was hurt or injured, was in his blood. He couldn’t not be a medic.
“I like the work I do at the clinic in the Tenderloin, Captain. Those people need help, too.”
Captain Ferguson released a breath. “Understood. And it’s hard to argue with that.” He cupped Ryder’s shoulder. “If that ever changes, you just need to let me know.”
“Thanks, Captain.”
Ryder finished up and clocked off, then headed over to his motorcycle.
The Triumph Street Triple was mostly black, with touches of red on it. It was fast, agile, and had a little touch of attitude that he liked.
He pulled out his cell phone and found the number he wanted. The call connected.
“Why is your number programmed in my phone?” a clipped, female voice said.
God, he loved that snotty tone. “Because I put it there.”
“How did you get into my phone?” Siv demanded.
“Trade secret. How’s the side?”
“Fine.”