But he put out his hand to stop her. She needed some ground rules for the compound, especially if she intended to be self-sufficient.
“You shouldn’t walk alone here,” he warned her on top of all the other warnings he’d already floated her way.
“I’m sure,” she replied smartly, quickly. “Thanks for the advice.”
His frustration rose. She wasn’t taking him seriously. She wasn’t listening. “This is for real,” he growled, knowing the dangers on base and the people who worked there.
She looked back up at him thoughtfully. He expected questions. She was clearly a woman with questions.
“But we are in a closed compound.” Her expression grew inquisitive, challenging. “I’m staying inside the wire.”
Ryder wasn’t used to being challenged. But he was learning that she wasn’t afraid. She didn’t just take things at face value. She dug deep. Which made sense, since her job was to ask questions. But Ryder got the feeling that would get her in trouble on this contract, and the first red flag waved through his mind. She didn’t deserve all the trouble she was about to get.
“We are in the middle of a war zone,” he explained, keeping his face emotionless. “Inside or outside the wire.” He kept his mask on as he waited for her to reveal herself. He still didn’t know whose side she was playing for.
“The conflict has moved further north. The rebels lost this area,” she stated correctly.
He gritted his teeth.
She looked around, and he saw the compound through her eyes. The sun was shining. Birds were chirping. It didn’t seem very dangerous in that moment.
He frowned. She had no idea. “There’s a lot of shit that comes damn close.” He implored her to listen. “You aren’t the only one who likes to test boundaries.”
She gave him a disbelieving and bored look. “I was told that I didn’t require an escort within the compound,” she said. “That’s not on my contract.”
“You do.”
“I can handle myself. I’ll take my chances.” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“No. You won’t.” He spoke like he had the final word.
The more she denied him, the more stubborn he became. He felt his protective instinct rise. And it angered him. He was responsible for everyone, and that meant her. She would listen.
“I think I’ll be just fine, thank you very much, Ryder,” she said with a frown. Her eyes narrowed in on him. She was a pistol, he’d give her that, but it wasn’t going to help her with him.
He’d been honest. He had shown her his protective side. But since she wasn’t willing to listen, Ryder decided to pivot. Every interaction was an opportunity. He was curious to learn as much as he could about her. And he couldn’t resist testing her again—he needed to know one hundred percent who he was dealing with.
He changed his tone, from serious and commanding to charming. “Where does your project start?”
Uncrossing his arms and casually putting his hands in his pockets, he was swooping in to knock her off her defenses. He could tell by her reaction that she’d noticed the tempo change, which was good. It made him feel like they were on the same level. Like she gave a shit.
“That’s a fair question,” she said slowly, observing him carefully as she spoke. “I’ll start by meeting your commanding officer.”
The mention of the snake set off alarms in his body—a visceral reaction—but he forced himself to remain cool.
“Great guy,” he said dryly.
She raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“And what’s your plan after that?” he asked casually.
“We will have to see. Definitely lots of interviews.”
“With who?”
“Everyone.” She shot him a grin.
Another wave of emotion crashed over him. He didn’t like her meeting with the snake at all, but especially not alone. He didn’t like her asking questions about the problems with the troop. And he sure as hell didn’t like the idea of her sitting in a room alone with half of the guys deployed. Not all of the new joiners had the maturity level to follow big-boy rules.
And damn well half would try to fraternize with her. Even if it wasn’t strictly prohibited on mission, he hated the idea of those chumps getting their sticky fingers on her.
None of her plan sat well with him. It made her too vulnerable. His deep need to protect her raged within him, though he knew he had to bide his time. She wasn’t his to protect—yet.
“Great,” he said sarcastically. “Good talk.” They were the only words he could get out.
Checking his watch, he realized he had to go. He could tell she wasn’t convinced by anything he’d said, but he didn’t have time to convince her.
“I’m going to have to take a tactical pause on this conversation,” he said.
“Great.” She mimicked him. “Good talk.”
That threw him off for a split second, and he did a double take. Did she just fucking copycat him? How insubordinate was she? She grinned, knowing that she’d gained footing.
Ryder’s life was about to get challenging. Very fucking challenging. Especially if the woman didn’t recognize his command. His authority.
“Now, if it meets with your approval, my lord, I would like to pass.” Her sarcastic grin widened.
His lips parted and his spine stiffened. My lord? Did she really just call him that?
“Most guys just call me Master Chief,” he said slowly. “Or sir.” He was second in command. The only E-9.
She shifted uncomfortably, and a realization dawned on him. She hadn’t known his rank. He hadn’t told her before. But maybe holding off had been worth it: watching her squirm before him gave him great pleasure. Maybe that would change her tune.
Ryder leaned back and grinned at her, awaiting the usual respect he received as second in command on the tour. It was time for her to repent.
Come to Daddy.
“Well, Master Chief, if you so please.” Her tone dripped with even more sarcasm, and she motioned wide with her hand for him to allow her to pass.
He had to still his jaw before it dropped open. Where was her respect? The woman had to learn. And he’d be happy to be the man to teach her.
“I don’t so please,” he replied, emotionless. “Move aside.” It was a feat to remain impassive, considering how riled up he was. Ryder watched her sexy, plump lips purse as she studied his response. He regained his composure and returned her gaze with a slightly disapproving stare.
It was an expression he often gave his men.
“You wish, buddy,” she snarled at him.
Ryder tensed. He was not her fucking buddy.
“What the—”
“Excuse me. This has been fun, but if you have given enough advice, I really must be going.” She cut him off like she was the queen.
He stared her down, keeping his cool. If she wanted to play hardball, that’s what she would get. He was very fucking good at it.
But he had to admit that he was growing a deep respect for her despite her surliness. He respected self-sufficient people. Toughness. Resilience. She demonstrated all of that.
And it made him all the more invested in her success.
As she spun around to leave, he put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her and pulling her a little closer to him. There were some things she damn well needed to be prepared for. He held her a foot away, and her breathing became heavier as she eyed him wildly.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, trying to shake his grip off.
He remained silent, stone-faced, holding her.
Her eyes flickered up and down his physique. He sensed heat rising in her chest. Her lips parted. Her cheeks flushed.
The moment quickly became sexual, and the air grew thick between them. Foggy, almost. He felt his cock snap, and it reminded him that hadn’t had sex in… too long. Tours were hard, and Ryder didn’t take time off. He couldn’t leave his men unattended. He didn’t have support or backup. And god knows what they’
d be forced to do if he weren’t around.
As her glasses slid down her nose under the sun’s heat, she pushed them back up, and black, fanned-out lashes batted up and down with all the questions he knew were rattling around inside her critical mind.
It was damn obvious to him then. He couldn’t deny it. He wanted to bend her over and have his way. Rip her clothes off.
It was more than just his usual need to protect others. It was more than just him. It was her. Something about her had really taken him. He hadn’t met a woman like her.
“Trust me. It’s not as safe as you think,” he said in his most concerned and sincere tone. “Don’t walk alone. Don’t be alone.” For all the trouble he wanted to give her, he truly was sincere.
He had good reason to be. He gave a shit.
A perplexed and insecure look momentarily crossed her face before she recovered her usual snappy self. He was glad to see a glimmer of fear, because it would help her stay safe. Stay alive. Hell, they were in a war zone—compound or no compound, SEALs or no SEALs.
She cleared her throat. “How, then, do you suggest I get around, my lord?”
The words annoyed him, but a part of him was amused. It was hard to believe someone could be so insolent. He leaned back and wondered if he could break it out of her—just with him, not with anyone else.
He studied her for a moment and involuntarily offered her a friendly grin. She grinned back at him devilishly. She thought she had won.
“You’ll need an escort,” he replied.
“That seems like a waste of everyone’s time. Are you prepared to do that?” She raised an eyebrow, challenging him.
If he opened his mouth, he would reply honestly. And he wasn’t sure he liked his honest answer. He released her and stood tall again, his arms crossed.
She shook her head like she couldn’t believe the conversation. “I have to go. I don’t want to be late to meet the commander,” she said with a sigh.
“I’ll take you there.” He motioned forward with his hand, and she fell in step beside him, exhaling like she’d given up. As they marched together across the stony dirt ground, a helicopter could be heard nearby, drowning out any chance of conversation. Which was just as well since he needed time to process. Strategize. Think.
As he turned her toward the entrance of the makeshift structure where the lieutenant commander had his office, she put out her hand and stopped him. Her face stopped having that screwed-up expression, and she just looked normal. Earnest. Sincere.
She was damn pretty.
“Ryder, seriously. Why shouldn’t I feel safe in this compound? Is there anyone here—in camp—who I need to look out for?” she asked in hushed tones.
He desperately wanted to answer that question honestly. He wanted to tell her everything. But he didn’t know yet if he could. So he continued with the guise he had constructed, never letting her see the real Ryder. And his real fears.
“Yes,” he stated bluntly, and shrugged.
“Okay. Who?”
“That’s classified.”
She put her hand on her hip. “Don’t be ridiculous. Tell me, who?”
After a pause, he leaned forward and said solemnly, “All of us.”
Her mouth dropped open. And just as her expression turned from concerned to fearful, a wide grin crossed his face.
She frowned in response, realizing that he was playing her yet again. She grabbed her notebook and swung it at his arm. It was a floppy notebook, so he couldn’t help but chuckle. She was killing him. It was too fun to toy with her, even if that made him a terrible person. He was already going to hell anyway.
He grabbed her notebook from her hands. “Ah. What do we have here?” He started fingering through it. “All of your secrets?” A rush of heat flooded his body as he watched her squirm in front of him.
“Give it back.” She clutched the side of it and ripped it from his hands, tearing the cover off.
“Easy there, big rig.”
She growled at him. “Fuck you. You are going make my life miserable here, aren’t you?” She clutched her notebook across her chest and crossed her arms, staring him down. Her beautiful round eyes squinted in anger behind her dark-rimmed glasses.
He chuckled. She didn’t know the half of it. “Now why would you say something like that?” He leaned against the building and stuffed his hands in his pockets, as cool and casual as could be.
“Because you already are making my life miserable,” she scoffed. “Out of my way. I really do have to go see your commanding officer now.”
The reminder struck a chord with him, and their short reprieve came to an end. She furrowed her brows, unwilling to listen to anything else he had to say, and marched with her head high toward the entrance of the command office.
6
Ryder stood outside the command building, watching her disappear into the snake pit. The good news was that, after all the evidence presented to him, he was growing more confident in her ability to stand up for herself.
Despite that, he wouldn’t let her face the snake alone. It was a recipe for disaster: a man with a lot to keep quiet, and a woman sent to uncover the truth behind his ethical breaches. So, after waiting a few minutes to obfuscate the fact that they had walked there together, he entered the building.
It was a place where leadership met, and a place where they had failed.
As he found his way toward the executive officer’s office, Ryder wondered how things had gotten so bad and what he could have done long ago to stop the problems. He felt responsible, like always, for how everything went down.
Violations against the Laws of Armed Conflict.
Down the single plain gray hallway, he heard her voice echoing from the open doorway. It was a beautiful, sultry voice, a nice octave—not to high, not too low. Just right. The type of voice he’d love to hear first thing in the morning.
He walked with purpose, and the sound of his heavy boots echoed down to the far end. He didn’t bother concealing his entry. He didn’t want to surprise them. Snakes spit venom when surprised.
As he approached the doorway, he quickly exhaled, releasing tension, and brought his mind to a calm, relaxed state. Focused. He was going to war. Then he stood squarely in the doorframe, looking in on the inhabitants of the office with his arms crossed and his face emotionless. He did what he had to do to appear distant, nonchalant, and uninterested. He was well-practiced at it. In front of enemies, in front of those he didn’t trust, he put on the mask and locked everything up inside him.
“Sir.” Ryder addressed the tall, reedy man with the misshapen, bald head, sitting behind a metal desk.
The man barely nodded, and his yellowed eyes narrowed. Oddly, that was a happy expression for him. Ryder had worked with him long enough to know.
Olivia spun around in her chair upon hearing his voice, and Ryder recognized her body’s signs of relief at his presence. Her interaction with the snake must be going terribly if she felt relieved at Ryder’s presence.
Unfortunately, the snake seemed to catch on to her reaction as well, and he raised his eyebrow between them. As his yellowed fingers toyed with a pen on his desk, a malicious smile crossed his lips. Ryder bit his tongue as he realized that despite his best intentions, he’d given the man a weakness to exploit—he’d presented it to him on a goddamn silver platter.
“Well, this is good timing,” the snake hissed in his usual attempt at charm. “Ryder can help you with your first interview. He’s very eager to help.”
Olivia’s eyes grew big, taking in the heated comment, unable to hide a moment of surprise. That, coupled with her previous reaction to Ryder, was too instructive, too revealing. That’s when Ryder knew he had to do better and quash whatever spark was growing between him and Olivia. Ryder made a pact with himself: his attraction to Olivia had to remain a complete secret. His, and his alone. It was a weakness not to be shared or observed and never, ever to be acted upon.
The snake would use it against them. He�
��d use it against her. And Ryder needed her to succeed, one way or another.
After a breath, Olivia nodded to the commander. “Gee, thanks.”
“I’ll need a list of who else you plan on interviewing, as well as dates and times. I’m new to this whole cultural inquiry thing,” the commander drawled on, eyeing the two suspiciously while trying to remain gregarious. “But we’ve got a mission to accomplish, so I’ll need to ensure my guys remained focused.”
Ryder didn’t mistake the shift he observed in Olivia. He had become a keen observer of her body language, and he knew she wanted to question the commander. That was no surprise. She had a lot of questions. So Ryder waited to see what she would do. But she didn’t bite. She didn’t ask anything. That was the smart move—don’t provoke the venomous bastard. It seemed Olivia was catching on. Maybe Ryder’s warnings had been more instructive than he’d expected. With everything she did right, it grew hope inside Ryder that maybe she wouldn’t fail.
Olivia nodded and made a note in her notebook. The snake seemed appeased by her obedience. Ryder couldn’t help but wonder where that obedience went when he was around—and what he would have to do to secure it.
“I hope to help,” Olivia coolly explained to the boss. “I’ve written reports in the past for other parts of the military that served to be quite useful in changing cultures and attitudes. My work tends to be most fruitful for management and human resources, especially when seeking to improve morale amongst enlisted members. I know the top commanders believe that ethical adherence is just as important as tactical proficiency.”
“Well, you’re the doctor!” The Lieutenant Commander bared his snakelike teeth in an attempt to be friendly. But it just came across as awkward, if not disgusting. Years of chewing tobacco had made him a walking bottle of yellowed spit.
Olivia smiled politely. Distant. Untouchable.
Ryder loved that, and it took everything inside him not to grin.
“It would seem.” Her tone was pure professional ice. Olivia went on to explain the objectives of her statement of work, and the snake seemed very supportive and helpful, putting on the corporate cheerleader mask that he had perfected over the years. Ryder wondered if she bought any of his unending bullshit as her brown ponytail bobbed up and down in agreement.
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