Passing His Guard (Against the Cage #2)

by Melynda Price

  Aiden stepped back and grabbed her by his T-shirt, turning her to face him. “No you didn’t. You made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” He tugged her closer and planted a solid kiss on her mouth. “I hate to bang and bail, but I really gotta go.” He hiked up his slacks and made quick work of tucking everything back in place.

  “It’s all right.” Ryann crossed her arms over her chest, savoring the feel of snuggling into Aiden’s shirt. The hem line brushed against her thighs as she leaned her bottom against the dresser, enjoying the view of watching him get dressed. Still naked from the waist up, he was a feast for the eyes. All hard planes and rippling muscle . . . She could feel the heat blooming anew in her core just watching him.

  He crossed the room to the closet where he kept his overflow of clothes and grabbed a new shirt from the hanger. Shrugging it over his wide shoulders, he quickly began fastening the buttons as he walked toward her. “Do you mind moving your stuff into my room so I can put Nikko in the spare room?”

  “No, not at all. I’d just started to unpack anyway. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Thanks, babe.” He scooped his jacket off the floor and attempted to shake the wrinkles out before slipping it back on. As he fastened the two buttons, he bent down and gave her one last kiss. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He flashed her a sexy grin and grabbed the front of his T-shirt, giving it a playful tug. “You look good in my clothes, Ryann.”

  CHAPTER

  32

  Good morning, Mr. Kruze.”

  “Good morning,” Aiden responded for the umpteenth time, ignoring the double takes and surprised greetings as he made his way toward his office. He walked into the firm with the same cool, determined purpose with which he’d walked out of it fourteen months ago.

  In all honesty, there was a part of him that was surprised to see his name was still on the office door. Then again, his father was all about image. Heaven forbid all may not be well within the Kruze Kingdom. The man would do just about anything to save face, and scraping your kid’s name off the office door with an X-Acto knife didn’t exactly say all is well. And it was exactly that prideful arrogance Aiden was counting on to get him the clearance he needed to access his files.

  His father believed it was only a matter of time before Aiden came to his senses and came crawling back home with his tail between his legs. The man had said as much the night Aiden stormed out of his parents’ mansion and said fuck it all. He stopped at his secretary’s desk as he passed by and said, “Shirley, would you mind getting IT on the phone to reactivate my security clearance?”

  The woman glanced at him, did a double take, and choked on her coffee. “Right away, Mr. Kruze,” she sputtered.

  Aiden was banking on his office key still working and shook his head at his father’s predictability when the metal slid home and the lock opened. It was too easy, really. And that thought lasted for a whole thirty minutes. He was on the phone with IT when his office door swung open then slammed shut. So much for not wanting to make a scene . . .

  “Can I call you back?”

  “Not a problem, Mr. Kruze. And what about the archived files? They require a special password clearance. Will you want me to reset that as well?”

  “Yes, please. I appreciate your help.”

  “Call me if you need anything else.”

  Aiden hung up the phone and turned his attention to the pissed-off man towering over his desk.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  “Hey, Dad. Missed you at the family reunion yesterday morning. Good times . . . What does it look like I’m doing? I’m coming to work. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You and Mom practically moved heaven and earth to get me back here. Did you think I was going to sit at home and eat bonbons all day?”

  His dad sat in the chair across from his desk and eyed him skeptically. “You expect me to believe that just like that you’re coming home and all is good?”

  Aiden shrugged. “Mom said Cynthia Moralli broke the engagement. As long as you don’t go trying to marry me off to anyone else, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Quit lawyering me, Aiden.”

  “All right, you want me to be real with you?” He pushed back from his desk and crossed his arms, facing off with the man who might as well be a stranger. Bennett Kruze mirrored his stubborn pose. Thirty years Aiden’s senior, the man had lost little of his imposing stature and none of his stubborn arrogance. Those ice-blue eyes cut into him from across the desk. It was a look that would cow a lesser man, but Aiden was immune to that intimidating glower. “I was perfectly content to remain in Vegas. I had a great fighting career and one I’m not just a little pissed about losing. If you want me here so bad, then you can sure as hell give me my job back. I want the Moralli account, too, which means whatever clearance you need to sign off on with IT, I expect you to do it.”

  Bennett watched him with that same impassive stare Aiden had come to despise over the years. “What are you doing, Aiden? You and I both know you hated working for Moralli. Why in the hell would you want that case back now? Unless . . .”

  His dad was smart—too fucking smart.

  “What the hell are you planning to do?”

  Something I should have done a long time ago.

  Aiden’s father leaned forward, narrowed his gaze, and lowered his voice to a low warning growl. “Need I remind you of what is at stake here?—my career, my reputation, the reputation of this firm! And you, sitting there so self-righteous, are not innocent of any wrongdoing yourself. Whatever you’re thinking, let it go.”

  At this moment, the man sitting across from him looked every bit as ruthless as Moralli, and just as formidable. Too bad the show of force was lost on him. Aiden wasn’t a man to be bullied or intimidated. When he was pushed, he pushed back harder. His father should have known that by now—he was Bennett Kruze’s son, after all.

  Aiden’s computer screen flashed, prompting his password reset. He wouldn’t need long to get the information he’d come here for, but it certainly would have been easier to accomplish without his father’s eyes of suspicion on him. “You think I don’t know that? Do you think I would do something that would compromise you or this firm? Do you think I’d disbar myself?”

  “In a word . . . yes.” Bennett stood and straightened his navy blue suit. “I don’t think I’ll be handing the Moralli account back over to you. At least not right now. We have many other cases that could use your attention. Feel free to pick up the ones from Shirley that interest you.”

  “Whatcha doin’, Gingersnap?”

  Ryann shot Nikko a sharp scowl as he plopped down beside her. “You know I hate it when you call me that, right?”

  The grin he gave her was pure wickedness, transforming that severe face into a startling handsome gleam. God help the poor woman who got snared by this wolf.

  “Why do you think I do it?” he asked, his answer in the question. Turning his attention to the computer screen on her lap, his steel-gray eyes watched the YouTube video playing on her laptop. All hint of playfulness vanished as his expression became tense and guarded. There was a lot going on behind those eyes. His square jaw was set in grim determination, his brows pulled tight in an assessing scowl that seemed to be permanently etched on his face. Her eyes strayed to the scar slashing from high on his cheekbone down through his top lip. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to cause what should be a disfiguring injury, yet it only seemed to add to the guy’s dangerous good looks. This was the fourth time she’d seen Nikko Del Toro, and she had to admit he was very handsome in a very rugged, ruthless way. If he was self-conscious about his scar, he gave no indication of it. Ryann forced her attention back to the screen when she caught herself staring too long, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. She didn’t want to be rude or give him the wrong idea.

  “What are you watching?”

 
; “It’s a YouTube video of an MMA fight with Joe Paskel.”

  “Paskel?—never heard of him.”

  Nikko’s eyes never left the screen as he spoke, his attention wholly fixed on the fight playing out before him.

  “This is the man Aiden’s going to fight tonight.”

  “No shit? May I?” he asked, reaching over and plucking the laptop off her knees before she could answer either way.

  As the fight went on, Nikko’s scowl deepened. Yeah, he’d be a gorgeous man if he wasn’t so terrifying. They watched as Paskel shot in and slammed his opponent onto the mat. “You see that?” he said, pointing to the screen. “Paskel is passing his guard.”

  It kinda just looked like two men rolling around on a mat to her. “What’s ‘passing his guard’?”

  “It’s when a fighter takes a more advantageous position over his opponent.”

  They watched as Paskel jumped in for the win, repeatedly driving his knee into the felled fighter’s face. She grimaced as a spray of blood shot across the mat and Nikko muttered a foul curse. “That shit’s illegal.”

  Ryann wasn’t sure to which “shit” he was referring. It all looked pretty terrible if you asked her.

  “This is who Disco’s fighting?”

  “I’ve been pulling together fight reels for Aiden so he can study his opponent before the fight tonight. I gotta confess, I don’t know what I’m watching.”

  “You’re watching unsanctioned fighting. No-holds-barred kind of shit. This guy here is a grappler. See how he shoots in for the takedown? Knees are illegal when your opponent is on the ground like this. Disco’s gonna have to keep this fight on his feet.”

  Hearing Nikko’s fight assessment wasn’t doing anything to calm her nerves. “Can he do that? Keep the fight on his feet?”

  Nikko took his attention off the fight long enough to shoot her a lopsided, are you kidding me? grin. “Disco has amazing stand-up. He’s a way better fighter than either of these two. This guy’s just a brawler. He’s got shitty technique, but that doesn’t mean the bastard’s not dangerous. The trick with fighters like this is not accidentally getting tagged. Anyone can get lucky. What else you got on this Joe guy?”

  Ryann reached for the manila folder sitting beside her and set the dossier in his waiting hands. Nikko shot her a surprised glance. “Damn, Gingersnap, I’m impressed. That’s awesome work . . .”

  Ryann couldn’t help but smile at his compliment. For the first time since Nikko arrived, she let herself entertain the possibility that she might have judged the cagey fighter a bit too harshly. Obviously, Aiden liked and trusted the guy or he never would have asked him to corner his fights. No question Nikko was a total ball-busting hardass, but something about the guy told Ryann she could trust him, and people she could count on were hard to come by these days. It comforted her to know this man had Aiden’s back and that he wouldn’t be walking into the Lion’s Den alone tonight.

  “Thank you,” she found herself saying.

  Nikko froze, the tension he always carried in his shoulders tightening a touch more. He canted his head just enough to look at her, a puzzled frown drawing his brows tight. “For what?”

  He genuinely didn’t seem to know.

  “For this . . . for helping Aiden.”

  Nikko grunted and turned his attention back to the file. “It’s nothing Disco wouldn’t do for me.”

  And she knew that was probably true. Aiden might not have many people in his life he allowed to get very close to him, but he truly cared about the ones he did, and he’d move heaven and earth for them if it was in his power.

  “How many other videos do you have?” Nikko asked, turning the conversation back to neutral ground.

  “Four. Here . . .” She showed him the links she’d pulled up, and together they began watching the videos from the beginning. As the fights went on, Nikko pointed out flaws and weaknesses in the fighter, and by the end of the afternoon, Ryann knew more about MMA than she ever wanted to learn. But she was also a lot less fearful and fully confident that Aiden had this fight.

  CHAPTER

  33

  Aiden . . . how the hell are you?”

  Aiden set his briefcase on the floor beside his feet and reached across the table, taking hold of the outstretched hand. “District Attorney Ike Wilson. It’s been a while.”

  “You could say that.” The man released his hand and Aiden slipped into the booth. “I have to say, I was surprised as hell to hear from you. Thought you left town . . .”

  “I did.”

  “Obviously, you’re back now?”

  His old friend and former law classmate was fishing for details Aiden wasn’t sure he wanted to give. He planned to do his best to leave Ryann out of this. Unfortunately, after the meeting with his father, Aiden wasn’t sure how long that would remain possible. It also spurred the urgency simmering inside him to start building this case.

  “For a while. I have some loose ends I need to tie up.”

  Ike’s dark brow ticked up in question. “I assume that’s where I come in?”

  Aiden looked around, taking in the view. It wasn’t for the topless dancer twirling around on the pole that he chose this place to meet. The high-backed booths discreetly hid them from prying eyes. The bump-and-grind music drowned out their conversation, keeping it from being overheard.

  “Interesting choice in restaurants. Probably going to have a little trouble writing this one off as a business expense.” Ike saluted Aiden with his beer and laughed. “I see you haven’t changed.”

  Oh, Aiden had changed—more than he wanted to admit. This was the first time he’d ever been in a strip club and felt guilty about it. It was also the first time a half-naked woman dancing with a pole didn’t even tempt his gaze.

  Ike had gotten here early, just in case Aiden was being watched—a high likelihood, considering what went down yesterday. Anyone who knew Aiden wouldn’t think twice about seeing him walk into a strip club. The DA had two empty glasses sitting beside him. “Was that one mine?” Aiden nodded at the empty.

  “Maybe.”

  Aiden chuckled. The waitress came over and took his order. She offered another to Ike but he declined. He still had half a glass left and no doubt had to go back to the office after their meeting.

  “As great as it is to see you, why don’t we get down to it and you tell me why I’m here?”

  Ike had always been a no-bullshit, let’s-get-down-to-it kind of guy. That was one of the things Aiden liked about him.

  “How close are you to getting an indictment on Moralli?”

  Ike choked on his beer and took a moment to clear his throat before narrowing his gaze at him. “You ask that like you think I’m actually going to tell you.”

  As Moralli’s lawyer, it was no secret to him Ike had been working to build a case against him for years. So had the feds.

  “What do you want, Aiden? Why am I really here?”

  “I want to give you Moralli. I want to hand you a case so airtight there’s no lawyer in the country who will be able to get him off.”

  Ike sat there a moment staring at him, his quizzical frown thoughtful . . . contemplative. “You’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  The waitress dropped off his beer as she passed by on the way to another table. Aiden took a sip and waited for his friend to say something.

  “I can’t divulge what I have. You know that.”

  “Well, you can add this to it.” Aiden slid the briefcase over to Ike.

  “What’s this?”

  “Proof. Proof of money laundering, illegal gambling, prostitution . . . It should get you started.”

  “Damn . . .” Ike cursed, reaching down to slide the briefcase beneath his legs. “I can’t believe you’re doing this, man. You know you’re probably going to get disbarred for this, right? And
that’s just the beginning. When this comes out . . . Shit, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but Moralli’s not the only one we’re watching.”

  “I know. I plan to turn State’s evidence for immunity.” He gave Ike a sly grin. “You didn’t think I’d tip my entire hand, did you?”

  His friend laughed. “No, I didn’t. And I’ll do my damned best to get you through this unscathed. But I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about your father.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Ryann was bent over, shoving her foot into her boot, when she glanced back and found Aiden towering over her. He was wearing a black T-shirt and sweats and had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Nikko was in the foyer, a few paces behind him.

  “What does it look like? I’m coming with you.”

  “The hell you are,” Aiden and Nikko replied in unison.

  Aiden reached for her and turned Ryann to face him. “Listen, sweetheart, I appreciate that you want to be there and support me, but I don’t want you anywhere near the Lion’s Den. It’s a dangerous place, and I have to be able to focus on this fight. I can’t do that if I’m worried about you. This penthouse is the safest place for you to be right now. Promise me you’ll stay here and wait for me until I come back.”

  If he’d put it any other way she would have refused. She wasn’t some fragile doll Aiden could keep on a shelf and put away for safekeeping. But her sense of guilt that he was fighting in the first place kept her from arguing. The last thing she wanted was to be a distraction to him. Reluctantly, Ryann acquiesced, trying to hide her disappointment and frustration over being left behind.

  “He’s going to be fine, Gingersnap. Don’t worry. I’ll bring him home to you safe and sound.”

  “You’d better,” she grumbled begrudgingly. Exhaling a defeated sigh, she bent to remove her boot, and Aiden caught her arm.

  “Hey . . .” Aiden caught her chin and tipped her head so he could meet her eyes. “Thanks for all your hard work on Paskel’s dossier. You did a great job on it.”