Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The loud voices and arguing in the library silenced as Harper stomped in, grabbed Ryker’s hand, and hauled him out. She didn’t stop until she had him inside her old bedroom with the door closed. She leaned back against the wood and blew the hair out of her eyes.
Ryker gave her a lopsided grin. “If you wanted to get me into your bedroom, all you had to do was ask.”
“Cut the flirting. When was I vulnerable?”
“Excuse me?”
“When?” she demanded.
“The coffee shop when you spilled your coffee on your concert T-shirt. In the bar parking lot, when you were debating to come inside and meet me, which was stupid by the way. I could have been anybody. I could have done anything.” He let out a sigh.
“When you were standing, by your window at work, talking on the phone to me. When you opened an unknown package. When your porch light went out and you didn’t replace it. ”
“That was you?”
“Yes. You probably have a short. I’ve fixed it three times. Would you like me to continue?”
“If I help you find Grant, and whatever else it is you’re searching for, you’ll leave us alone and let us buy back my father’s shares?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Stop answering my questions with another question,” she demanded. “This isn’t a game. This is my life, my company. So just….stop.” She searched his eyes for his answer, and the emotions surrounding him for a clue, and she was smacked in the gut with his desire.
She stopped herself from licking her lips.
“Fine,” he said, tilting his head in acknowledgment.
“As long as you don’t argue with me about helping you, and in return help me find what I’m looking for, I’ll sign everything back over.
Believe it or not, Harper, I quit testing you months ago.
Every call after that was because I enjoyed our talks. ”
She stood on her tiptoes, trying to look him in the eye. His lips twitched at her effort, and he lowered his head.
She raised her brow and smiled before pressing her lips to his in a surprise kiss. His lips were soft yet firm, and she fought to ignore the zap of awareness that hit her. The kiss was quick and unnecessary, but she wanted to level the playing field.
“You’re not right about everything, Cage. You didn’t kiss me; I kissed you. We’ll start tonight at the black tie party at the country club. I’ll be in public and a sitting target. That and my home are the best places to attack.”
“I agree,” he said as his brows dipped, and the look of confusion on his face made her grin. “Most women would be scared.”
“I’m not scared. I’m worse. I’m pissed.” Aggravation clawed at her from his betrayal. Trust hadn’t just flown out the window. It had landed hard on the pavement and then been run over by an eighteen-wheeler before being flung into a cage of bulls, stomped and torn to shreds. Trust…there was none.
“What time should I pick you up?” he asked.
“You shouldn’t. That defeats the purpose of being an easy target.” She stepped around him and left him standing in her room. She had less than eight hours to pull a plan out of her ass that included staying alive, and for that, she was going to need a miracle and a little help from the dead.
Harper stood with her sisters on the patio outside the country club. Each looked on, amused at the chaos inside. Beneath the twinkling lights around the room, and the soft beat of the music, swarmed fifteen ghosts that had come to help.
“Who’s Redbeard?” Harper asked the others as she scanned the otherworldly floating among the living in the ballroom.
“He’s Collin’s great-great something. You know those Highlanders are always looking for a fight.”
Harper nudged her. “He does realize that sword he’s swinging can’t actually hurt the living?”
“I’m not sure he cares,” Quinn answered.
“And the one who looks bored? Who does he belong to?”
“Oh, you remember him. He’s the one that haunted my ass over the emerald,” Quinn said turning her back to the ballroom to face her sisters. “It’s game time, ladies. Collin, Coop, and Ian have eyes on the doors.”
“Where’s Ryker?” Harper shouldn’t care where he was. It almost pained her to ask. Almost.
Cara shared a grin with Quinn before turning back to Harper. “He’s doing surveillance from the van.”
“With Aunt Betty,” Quinn said before she broke out in laughter.
Harper’s smile spread into a full-out grin. He deserved more than a couple hours with the crazy woman. He deserved years. Only then would she feel a little less betrayed. No matter that his excuse had been to save her life.
Grace put her hand into the middle of the circle, and the rest of their sisters did the same. “No one comes into our house and fucks with us. Light the fires and burn the bras. It’s time we kicked some motherfucking balls. Pencil dick on three.”
They pumped their hands together three times and yelled, “Pencil dick,” all together, as if they were a football team about to take the field. The guests closest to the patio doors turned and gasped. Harper grinned and curtseyed.
“Did you just yell pencil dick?” Ryker’s smooth, silky voice asked into the receiver in her ear.
“Why? Are you offended?” Harper asked, walking into the ballroom behind her sisters. The lot of them made a sight. Five women on a manhunt, surrounded by conspirator ghosts helping with surveillance.
“I think you know better. You care to play another round of twenty questions or maybe a different game, like show and tell?”
“Group channel here, guys,” Cooper growled. “No one that isn’t married is playing hide the salami.”
“Hey…” Ian chimed in. “Speak for yourself.”
“You don’t count, Ian,” Collin said and chuckled.
“He’s not getting lucky either,” Becca said with a grin.
“I second that.” Grace said with a chuckle.
The sisters split up around the room, each taking a direction and circling the partygoers as if they were prey. One of them was bound to recognize an unwelcome face or get a funky vibe. Ghosts swirled in and out of groups, stopping to listen to conversations.
“He’s not going to know anyone,” Harper said, trying to keep her lips as still as possible as she talked, hoping not to look like she belonged in a mental institution for having a conversation with herself. “He won’t be in a crowd. Look for loners.”
“Or wait staff,” Becca said.
Harper hadn’t thought about the waiters and waitresses mingling with the guests, offering food and hors d’oeuvres.
If someone actually wanted her dead and knew her better, all they’d have to do was put arsenic in the chocolate desserts.
She could sniff out dessert fifty yards away, in a room full of sweaty cowboys.
She grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waitress, knowing the person after her was male. Still, it was just for show. No way was she drinking anything unless she personally pulled the cork.
Harper stood in front of the dessert table and inwardly cursed that she wouldn’t be sampling any of that sugar tonight.
“Don’t even think about it,” Quinn said into the earpiece. “We don’t know if any of that is contaminated.”
“No one else is getting sick,” Harper mumbled as a man grabbed a pastry and shoved it into his mouth as he walked by. Her heart dropped into the pit of her empty stomach.
“Not yet,” Quinn said. “Give them a few hours, and if no one’s croaked, only then can you eat.”
“They need a special place in hell to string a man up by his balls for denying me the right to eat perfectly fine chocolate,” Harper mumbled and spun around, back to the crowd. Her night was getting longer, and she was getting more pissy by the minute.
Three hours went by, and the party was winding down.
The unwrapped gifts they’d collected for the orphanage for Christmas had exceeded previous years.
Thank God it wasn’t her year to organize the delivery to the orphanage so the orphans had something to open on Christmas Day.
Harper plopped down at an empty table and kicked off her shoes to alleviate the pain in her feet.
Her stomach grumbled in protest just from looking at the half-eaten cake someone had left behind.
The bottled water she drank left her feeling bloated and waterlogged.
How was anyone supposed to endure these parties if not in a tipsy haze?
A strong hand landed on her shoulder, making her body tense until she locked eyes with the owner. Ryker Cage.
“I thought you could use this. I know I could.” He lifted the unopened bottle of champagne and set two flutes on the table.
“You must be a mind reader.”
He smiled without responding, making quick haste of opening the bottle. He poured them each a glass and handed her one. “Looks like Richard didn’t like the venue.”
Richard Grant. A name she’d now take with her to the grave. The only man able to separate her from her chocolate deserved to die a slow, painful death. A smile slipped on her lips. “I guess we’ll save the ball crushing for another day unless, of course, I find him hiding under my bed.”
Ryker sat back in the chair and held her gaze. There was something deep and mesmerizing in his eyes that shielded his mystery. She’d miss their weekly chats when everything was said and done. Ryker’s gaze caressed her face and dropped to her lips. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come clean early on.”
“Me too.” Those two little words spoke volumes, but that was all he deserved.
Ryker lifted Harper’s foot to his lap. She could feel the bulge in his pants as he settled his big fingers in the ball of her foot.
He pressed, making her eyes slide closed in momentary bliss.
A soft moan slipped from her lips. He worked the soreness out of one, and then she lifted the other one and wiggled it in his face. He chuckled.
“You’re kind of pushy,” he said through his smile and chuckled.
“You offered.” Harper shrugged and sipped her champagne. Damn him. Not only was he hung like a bull, but he also had magical fingers.
“Is that all it takes because I have a lot more to offer, if you just say the word.”
She slipped her feet free and tucked them back into her shoes. “Office relationships are frowned upon at our company. I guess my dad didn’t give you the rule book.” She tsked and smiled as she rose.
“Good thing this isn’t a relationship.” He rose, crowding her with his body. His warm palm cupped her arm as he lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Harper’s entire body went from half asleep to electrified just by his touch. He leaned in, and she held her breath.
His breath was hot in her ear. He whispered, “Come home with me.”
He pressed a sensuous kiss at the nape of her neck.
“Deep throat that microphone like a rock star.” Quinn’s voice broke Harper from the erotic haze, coming loud and clear over the transmitter still in her ear.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t even know where home is,” Cara said.
“Oh, I don’t know. You should do him and get it out of your system. You might not get another chance. There is a killer that wants you dead, after all,” Grace said.
“She’s got enough on her plate. Don’t give her anymore ideas.” Becca added.
“Spoil sport.” Quinn replied.
Pain pierced Harper’s temple. The running commentary was giving Harper a headache. She lowered her head and pulled the transmitter out of her ear, holding it up for Ryker to see before shoving it in his coat pocket. His lips twisted into a smile.
“What’s the consensus?”
“It’s a tie. Two for me stripping you down and making you a notch on my bed post, and two for me watching you in the rearview mirror.
Ryker’s hands landed on Harper’s waist and slid down the silky fabric of her dress to cup her hips. “Which sisters said no?”
His question made her smile. Like she’d ever give him help getting Cara or Becca to agree.
“It doesn’t matter. If I listened to everything they said, I’d either be in a psychiatric ward or already in my grave.
I make my own decisions and”—she shook her head and patted his lapel—“you should have come clean from the beginning. I don’t sleep with men I don’t trust. I’m going home and going to bed…
alone. I have to get up early and go into work. ”
“I thought you were closed the entire week?” His brows dipped as he studied her.
“We are,” she said, not giving him any more information. He might be part owner in the company, but damned if she was going to acknowledge it.
Harper slid around him and waved to her sisters, who were standing by the bar, before she headed toward the exit. If there was a stalker outside or hiding in her car, he was going to get what he had coming. She was horny, hungry, and sober. It was a deadly combination.
“You’re just going to let her walk out?” Crazy Aunt Betty said as she approached. Ryker had endured the last three hours with the woman who talked his ear off about sexual positions as she “accidentally” groped him.
“I’ve got surveillance at her house and a tracker on her car,” he said, not worried that Harper wouldn’t make it home in one piece. He could view her progress with a few simple clicks on his phone.
“You know my nieces always fight the attraction in the beginning. Take her sister, Cara. We had to make up a dangerous situation just so she’d spend time with Cooper.
Quinn…needed to be stranded in another country to help her Highlander.
Grace and Becca will be the same. Harper, though…
.she’s got walls a mile tall. Cracking through won’t be an easy feat. ”
Betty’s words made him pause. Why would she think his intentions were anything more than sex and keeping Harper alive? He wasn’t a stay-around type guy. He was the type of guy who talked women out of their panties and then never looked back.
“I think you’ve got the wrong idea,” he said. “I’m not the kind of guy you bring home to mom, unless you’re trying to piss her off.”
Aunt Betty crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that so?”
“Of course,” he said in a firm voice, as if he was trying to convince them both. “She’s an assignment. You, of all people, should understand that.”
“Funny.” She grinned. “You’ve already met her mother and her father, and you were the one to instigate it. You do realize that we can keep her safe, don’t you?” Betty winked and walked off.
Her question rankled him, creating a certain void in his chest where his heart should be. It was possible they could keep her safe, but he could do it better. He knew the threat better than most.