by Box Set
Addison nibbled her lower lip, and that tiny line between her brows returned. “Go on.”
“I pushed her off, but she got wicked crazy. Tried to grab my dick a second time. When I shook her off, she jerked the steering wheel. I lost control of the car. Now Eric’s a widower and his sons don’t have a mother.”
“You’re not to blame for her actions. With witnesses and the toxicology report I can neutralize the negative press within twenty-four hours.”
“I won’t let them suffer more than they already have—find another way to save my butt, Addison.” Ryder shoved his hands into his pockets. He’d made a lot of dumb ass mistakes in his life, including the shit that had landed him years earlier at Saddle Creek Ranch for juvenile delinquents. He’d learned then to live by rules he refused to break, even though one particular rule niggled at the far reaches of his brain, making him cringe inwardly. “You said you were the best. Prove it.”
Chapter 2
Addison took in the length of Ryder’s muscular body. He’d planted his feet in a wide stance and pushed his broad shoulders back. Regardless of the consequences to his lucrative mountain bike career, he stood solidly, ready to fight her plans. That determination, and cocky athletic arrogance had garnered Ryder dozens of championships, trophies and Olympic gold medals. It had once upon a time been shared with her side-by-side while they studied economics. The word fail didn’t exist in his vocabulary. Ever.
A knot pulled tight at the base of her head. She had to get him to play it her way or he could lose his sponsorships and the sport he loved. Unfairly. Despite the inadvertent pain he’d caused her years ago, Addison didn’t believe he deserved that fate. He cared more about how the details of the accident would impact his former teammate than about himself.
But Addison had to convince Ryder his way was wrong, or her father would never have faith in her ability to run Carrington Agency. And her father had to retire permanently, or risk another heart attack. As hard as it had been to gain his approval throughout her life, Addison loved her father. She didn’t want him to die. She wanted to make him proud.
She rubbed the back of her neck, swallowing the fear and frustration scratching her throat. “I admire your desire to protect your friend, but I can’t agree with you throwing away your career for him.”
“I won’t have to throw it away if you’re as good as you claim you are,” Ryder said, tilting his head to shoot her an I-dare-you look. “Losing my spot on the Olympic team will fuck everything up. That can’t happen.”
“I’m better than good,” she said with feigned nonchalance though her heart pumped at lightning speed behind her sternum. She’d always been a sucker for his teasing, sexy glances. Damn it. “But can you deliver what I want on demand?”
He raked the length of her body, and all the way back up to lock onto her gaze, attraction gleaming in his pupils. “Never doubt my ability to perform.”
Electricity charged between them and the room seemed to shrink. One step closer and she’d evaporate the minute distance between them. Oh, she wanted to bring him to his knees, make him beg for her in ways he’d claimed he never would beg. But she had a job to do. No way would she cross the professional line between them and risk losing the goals she’d worked so hard to attain.
Addison stepped back and rested her hip on her desk, inhaled a deep breath and tried not to think about how Ryder’s clean, crisp male scent made her mouth water. After waiting several beats, she picked up the police report. “I don’t need to bring more pain to Eric and his family to get you back in the public’s good graces,” she said, then slid the folder into the bottom of her file trays.
“You promise to keep the information I’ve shared with you a secret?”
“Yes.” Addison nodded, while mentally crossing her fingers and schooling her features into an unreadable mask. “I’m confident you’ll live up to my expectations for your public relations’ campaign.” However, she personally reserved the right to confirm his story behind the scenes if she needed a backup plan. Ryder didn’t always know what was best for him. Now she’d make sure she covered his proverbial sexy ass.
“Okay, I trust you.” Ryder pulled his hands from his pockets and held one out. “After all, you’re the reason I got to stay on the university’s cycling team. Shake on it and we have a deal.”
Addison hesitated. The last time she’d gotten Ryder out of a shit pile of worry, she’d thought he’d cared a little about her. Not just as a tutor, but as a woman.
Big mistake.
But that naive young woman had grown up and no longer carried a secret crush on Ryder. His motivation to protect his teammate chipped away at her long held belief that he was a self-centered jerk, but she couldn’t let emotion guide her choices. She’d control the outcome for their mutual benefit. “Deal,” Addison said, placing her palm in his. “But this means you must follow all my instructions without question. Understood?”
She expected Ryder to give her the typical, male version of a chest thumping power grip before releasing her hand. Instead, he gently squeezed longer than a respectable business arrangement handshake required. A tingling sensation, almost a spark of energy, charged through her skin and shot straight through her. His grateful, apologetic look made her pause.
“Understood.” He broke their contact and his full lips lifted in a half smile that had probably charmed the panties off dozens of women. “You’re the boss. Can’t wait to see what you make me do first.”
There was a hint of teasing in Ryder. Just as when he’d been freaked about losing his spot on the university’s team, now he switched on the guy who acted as if nothing major would annihilate his athletic career. He’d caused many a night of wishful gee-I’d-take-my-panties-off for him thoughts. Hell, once she’d had a journal full of her fantasies. She’d burned the foolishness in a fit of hurt and betrayal.
She wanted to hold onto that hurt, use it to keep her attraction to him at bay. But now she’d gotten a glimpse of the real man behind his charming, devil-may-care mask, and her resolve faltered. That guy had hero stamped all over him, not heartbreaker. And he posed a dangerous threat to her closely guarded heart.
***
“Good news,” Addison said as she walked into her living room the following Monday morning. “Our lawyers brokered a deal and you won’t have to appear in court. Spares us a media circus.”
Ryder closed his laptop, and stretched his arms behind his head, peering at her. Online tabloids hadn’t backed off slamming him for his role in Tiffany’s death. But at least Addison had total control over the legal situation. Plus, she’d made sure he stayed in her sight, and had brought him to her home in Malibu after she’d picked him up at the hospital. “What kind of deal?” he asked, wondering if she owned anything in her closet besides neutral colored power suits and mega high heels. Not that the heels didn’t incite all kinds of interesting ideas about her legs wrapping around him while he drove into the hot body he knew existed beneath her business armor. She’d already worked tirelessly for him… would she be the same in bed?
Addison intrigued him. Now he wanted to reconnect with her in ways that had less to do with his physical attraction, and a whole lot to do with his fascination about figuring out what made her tick. He couldn’t wait to see what her clever mind had in store for him.
Her brilliant mind and her sexy body hadn’t made sleeping down the hall from her throughout the weekend easy. Hell, he figured he had a serious case of deadly sperm build up, too. But their arrangement would remain strictly professional per her orders. Still, he couldn’t resist trying to get the fun girl he once knew, albeit a shy one, to emerge from her self-made corporate ice shell.
“One where you’re not riding anything other than a bike for three months. Community service, but that’ll be good for our publicity campaign. Visits to hospitals, schools, talking about being a responsible driver.” Addison ticked her left index finger with her right one while she rattled off the details. “First visit is tomorrow.
I’ll drive.”
He groaned. She might have a vehicle built for speed, but she drove the thing like a granny going on a Sunday church drive. “What about my coach?” She’d even taken over communicating with his team about Ryder’s future. He felt like a fucking pussy instead of a man, but he’d do anything to protect the Langston family.
“You’re on temporary leave until this fades away. He doesn’t want to drag the rest of the team into your mud. However, he expects you to train in the interim.” She glanced at him through her lashes. “Your doctors clear you to hit the trails?”
“Yes.” He rubbed the skin below his stitches. “No concussion. I’ve taken harder hits on the race circuit.”
“Your next pre-Olympic race is in July.” Addison circled the open living room, pausing to stare through the floor to ceiling glass doors that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. “My assistant is finalizing this week’s schedule of personal appearances and faxing them to my office here. You’ll continue to lay low while I spin the press announcements.”
“Yes, boss.” He’d agreed to follow her lead, but man, oh man, Ryder had a restless itch to escape, disappear into the Sierra Nevada mountains and hole up in his retreat for fucking ever. “That’s all cool, but I can’t train if I’m kissing sick kids and talking to high schoolers about the evil consequences of reckless speeding.”
Her long sigh echoed in the sparsely decorated room. “Part of the leniency deal means you have to be under my constant supervision. I can’t be hauling you from here to the San Gabriel mountains and back while running Carrington Agency.”
“Whoa, wait a minute here.” Ryder shoved his laptop onto the leather couch, and bolted to his feet. “You’re my public relations rep, not my babysitter.” If he had to be with Addison twenty-four seven, seven days a week until he returned to his team in July, he’d go nuts. Not because her mausoleum mansion suffocated him from the inside out, but Addison did things to him, made him want in ways he’d never wanted. He wanted to peel those damn suits off her and more. He wanted to find out if the empathetic friend he’d once known still existed beneath all her layers of ice, frost, and professional perfection.
“I don’t like this anymore than you do, but I formulated this plan because I knew it would work.”
“You think you could have considered consulting me about this brilliant idea before you executed it?” Because the more time he spent alone with Addison, the harder it would be to resist figuring out how to unleash the passion and heart he’d caught glimmers of when she let her guard slip.
Her shoulders stiffened, and she didn’t turn away from the view. “I gave you a major concession when I promised to keep your secret, Ryder. You said you trusted me. So trust me about this decision. It’s the only way to prove you’re reformed. No one would put the two of us together romantically. Ever.”
Well, hell. Why did she have to sound so devoid of anything remotely close to human? Especially when there’d been plenty of heat flying between them two days ago? Plus, the coastal highway and beaches in Malibu wouldn’t cut it for his brutal, daily regime to prepare for what could possibly be his last Olympic appearance.
Ryder crossed the floor and stood next to Addison. “I have to train on mountain courses with rugged terrain—the tricks, the jumps and landings that bring me victories require hours of practice,” he said. “No way the coach will keep me on the Rio de Janeiro team if I’m not in peak condition. I have to win the race in July. Otherwise, proving to the world I’m a boy scout will be a waste of your time.”
“If you’d let me tell the press the truth we wouldn’t be in this position,” Addison said.
“That’s non-negotiable.”
“Agreed, but my father’s not well enough to run the agency.” She glanced his way. “I can’t ask him to cut his recuperation short so I can be available for all your training sessions.”
He heard the slight catch in her voice, and a sheen of moisture darkened her hazel eyes. Ryder knew she’d never been close to Alexander Carrington, but he was her only parent. If her father died, she’d be alone in the world.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I owe him big for getting me to where I am today.” And Alexander gave a shit about his daughter even when the guy had no clue about how to communicate with his geeky nerdette. Ryder’s folks didn’t care about him other than as a commodity for a handout, or a bailout in his father’s case. The one good thing that had come out of his twisted family had been getting sent to Saddle Creek Ranch. That, and his kid sister Samantha. She’d ended up on the right side of the law despite the hell they’d grown up in.
“He has to retire if he wants to stay healthy,” she said, clasping her hands. “I can’t run off to the mountains with you so you can train. What about all the PR ops I’ve arranged? Crap. Why didn’t I think about your training when I agreed to be your guardian?”
“You could telecommute—delegate. It’s not like everything is set in stone yet.” He’d lost his independence, freedom and he damned well wanted to regain some control over the situation. Another part of him wanted to show Addison she didn’t have to be strong all the time. “Reschedule the ops to be in other places besides Los Angeles.”
She dropped her arms by her side, then turned to face him. “I’ll tell the press what we’re doing. Get promo shots of you training—work in the element of how you want to make up for what happened by bringing home the gold again.”
The little line between her brows had returned, but Ryder considered that a win. He loved that cute little line. How many times had he observed it when she had leaned over his economics books while explaining the principles in terms he could understand?
Her academic mind quickly processed new approaches to saving his career. So why didn’t that seem like enough anymore? Sure, she was professional, but he wished he hadn’t fucked up their friendship. He shouldn’t expect her to be all warm and fuzzy toward him. He should stay away, let her do her job, but Ryder ignored the internal warning bells and acted on impulse.
He pulled Addison into his arms. “Thanks for hearing me out,” he said, then kissed the little line. Because the truth he’d never admitted to anyone years ago had been he’d always wanted to know what it would be like to hold Addison.
Though he wasn’t even close to being in her league.
Chapter 3
The brief brush of Ryder’s mouth against her skin did more to undo her resolve to keep him at arm’s length than anything else he could have done. For the first time in the weeks following her father’s heart attack, Addison relaxed. Standing in the circle of his warm embrace had her on the brink of wishing he’d bring his lips lower to kiss hers.
Which would be wrong, wrong, wrong. And it could lead to all kinds of complications neither of them could afford, especially her. “I’ve got to contact my people at the agency, and pull together a new press release.” Addison placed her palm on his chest to end his hug. Breaking away from Ryder’s heat and masculine scent, she swiveled on her heel and walked toward the hallway that lead to her home office. “Prep me a list of what you need from your penthouse as well as anything you require from your retreat in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.”
She had to remain aloof though her knees trembled while she moved away from Ryder’s tantalizing presence. And every nerve ending currently fired all kinds of do-me-now messages to long deprived erogenous zones, which made it difficult not to look over her shoulder at him one more time.
Do not let your body do the talking. And for god’s sake, don’t ever let him get close again. Keeping Ryder’s portfolio lucrative for the agency mattered. Nothing else. Her rebellious hormones calmed by the time she entered her office. She sank into her chair, grateful for a reprieve from Ryder’s overwhelming, masculine pull.
She’d created the space to reflect who she’d always be—a lover of books and cozy reading spaces. Colorful blankets had been tucked into a woven basket next to an oversized, yellow chair with a matching ottoman. A small table housed a
reading lamp and her beloved e-reader. Everything had been placed in a corner next to a fireplace that she used whenever the weather allowed.
Addison opened her antique looking desk’s drawer, and pulled out her files. Then she buried herself in the tasks she needed to complete before the end of the day. For the next two hours she sent out a flurry of emails to her press contacts, texted her assistant with instructions to expedite Ryder’s retreat from Los Angeles, and called her father to touch base.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’d be doing great if I knew the details about Ryder’s situation,” he griped. “Are you sure you have the campaign under control? Sponsors still on board?”
Addison opened a drawer and pulled out a cough drop, then popped it into her mouth to relieve the tension scratching her throat. “He’s cooperating,” she said after tucking it into the corner of her cheek, then she gave her father a quick rundown about her media campaign.
“Not sure I agree with the court ordered supervision, but you’re not his type and you’re too smart to get mixed up with a player like Ryder.”
The tension in her throat thickened. “Gee, thanks, Dad,” she said and sucked on the drop. “I’ll call you after we get settled. Don’t worry about anything at the agency. I’ve got all the bases covered.”
“We’ll see about that,” her father said. “Keep me in the loop. I want to make sure nothing falls through the cracks.”
“I will.”
And there it was. The total lack of complete trust in her abilities. Sure, they’d gotten closer since she’d remade herself into a perfect size six with flawless skin and hair to complement her dedication to their company, Addison wondered if her father would ever truly approve of her.