His Burning Heart: Real Men of Wildridge

by Kyle, Celia

  The espresso disappeared down his gullet faster than it took to brew, but he took his time gnawing on his toast as he headed to the bathroom. In just a few minutes, the black tile walls became dewy as hot water cascaded over his sore muscles, and all was right with the world.

  Reaching for the shampoo, Dyrk paused and noted how perfectly his toiletries were lined up on the edge of the shower. Each one sat facing forward in the precise order he used them. Normally, he wouldn’t have noticed such a small thing he didn’t even know was habit for him. But since last night, he almost felt a need to justify every choice he made in his home. Why?

  He knew damn well why. Tessa’s place had been overflowing with knickknacks and mementos and whatever else must have caught her eye. It was as cluttered as an apartment could be, yet it still felt warm and homey, like he could sit in the overstuffed chair with patches forever and be happy about it. He didn’t own a single chair that made him simply want to sit.

  Thinking about her place made him think about her. He still felt tingly all over at the memory of those warm hands taking their time adjusting his hips in downward dog. It didn’t help that she’d been wearing a painted-on yoga outfit. Tessa normally wore flowing, hippie-dippy fare that suited her personality but did little in the way of showing off her voluptuous figure.

  How the hell did a person fold herself in half so effortlessly? He worked out at least six times a week and had just five percent body fat, but he still had a hard time touching his own toes. But Tessa just bent over at the waist and shoved that deliciously round ass in the air…

  His cock twitched at the memory, so he tried to think of something else, but all that came to mind was Tessa’s voice. It was so soothing and gentle that it made everything else in the world quiet down. When she’d first started at Wildridge, her voice had almost annoyed him. But every time she spoke, she brought a relaxed zen energy to the room.

  “Zen energy?” he muttered and shook his head. “What the hell’s gotten into me?

  Dunno, but I’d rather be getting into her.

  Dammit, thoughts like those weren’t helpful or professional. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to her, of course. That would have been asinine. Who wouldn’t be hot for Tessa? With her chestnut waves, mossy green eyes, and the most adorable field of freckles scattered across her nose—not to mention the kind of curves that could give a healthy man a heart attack—she was simply stunning.

  That didn’t mean he had to do anything about his desire besides excuse himself before he popped a woody, like he almost did last night. God, that would have been embarrassing.

  Wouldn’t it have?

  He didn’t want to project his feelings, but he could have sworn Tessa had left her hands on him far longer than she needed to for some of those poses.

  And then there were those crystals. Somehow the simple act of placing them around his body without even touching him had felt almost as intimate as sex.

  No, he decided, Tessa’s New Age mumbo jumbo wasn’t for him. Even if he felt clearer and more at peace than he had in months, it was just too out there for him. The yoga had proved a bit of a surprise—one he might eventually incorporate into his own workout routine someday to strengthen those previously hidden muscles—but for now it was enough to get Charlie off his back.

  That didn’t solve the problem of his attraction for her, and if he was being honest with himself, more than just attraction. He couldn’t explain why, but he couldn’t deny the fact he liked Tessa. In the end, he decided it was just a crush—a short-lived infatuation that would pass quickly. They were just too different.

  So? a voice said in his head. Opposites attract. It’s kind of a thing.

  Dyrk groaned. Romance was not something he had time for, no matter how much his subconscious wanted to argue. He needed to focus on real problems, like getting Stark’s financial situation handled so he could get back to the SBI task force where he belonged.

  Closing his eyes, he dipped his head under the shower head and tried Tessa’s trick for clearing the mind. Focusing on his breathing, he felt his heart rate slow and any remaining tension ease from his body. And just like that it hit him. His eyes popped open wide and he actually gasped.

  “That’s it!”

  * * *

  This was an unprecedented occasion. Tessa, who was almost pathologically late for everything due to her bendy perception of time, had shown up and clocked in early…before Dyrk, who was almost pathologically early due to what some might term a stick up his ass.

  This was a date for the record books, as far as Tessa was concerned. She was not usually the type to change her habits based on other people’s expectations. She was wholly and unabashedly herself, even if it meant acting in direct opposition to the world around her. Underneath her layers of coolness and meditative peace lived a stubborn woman who liked to do things her own way. She was settled in her style of living, and she saw no real reason to alter anything. Tessa, quite simply, loved herself exactly the way she was, tardiness and all. Fortunately, she had found her tribe in her fellow coworkers at Wildridge Security.

  Sure, they were all likely to be early rather than late, and they could never quite understand Tessa’s enlightened point of view, but they accepted her. They knew what to expect. She’d be late, but damn if she didn’t do fantastic work once she arrived. She figured that was why they let her tardiness slide. That and the fact that she was so dang nice. Most people weren’t willing to argue with someone so relaxed and nonconfrontational. It was pointless. Tessa was Tessa, and that was that.

  So, when she waltzed into the office a full fifteen minutes before she was supposed to clock in, she turned some heads. Ragan pointed it out, as did Charlie when he poked his head out of his office first thing that morning.

  “You’re early,” Charlie’s brow was furrowed, and he sounded confused. “What’s wrong?”

  Tessa snickered before reassuring him. “Nothing! I’m great.”

  But there was something wrong—something new for her—and she wasn’t sure how to feel about just yet. She had not shown up early for work for her own interests. She had done it with the express purpose of impressing a guy. More specifically, Dyrk.

  Because as much as she hated to admit that he would have such a heavy influence on her, there was no denying the spark that had crackled between them last night. They had shared a genuine connection, and Tessa didn’t want to lose him before they even got a chance to properly explore their bond. The best relationships were a back and forth of give and take. Since Dyrk had pushed out of his comfort zone to do yoga with her, she wanted to return the favor by doing something he would do—arrive early for work. It was a little thing, maybe, but it was something. She just hoped he would notice and be impressed.

  Not so patiently, she waited and watched the clock. Finally, at five-till, the door breezed open and Dyrk strolled in, looking every bit as hot and delicious as he did last night. Only today he was in a tidy suit instead of shorts and a tight t-shirt. A shiver ran down her spine and her hands got all sweaty. It was strange, feeling like she had no control over her own body. Normally, she was a big proponent of mind-body synchronicity, with the mind leading. But at the moment, it felt more like her body was in command.

  One part of her body, specifically.

  She was attracted to him. No denying that fact. His body made hers feel all zappy and alive, and she was going to chase that high as long as she could. But she had to be careful because Dyrk was a bit like a skittish kitten. Patience was key in taming ferals.

  Plastering a big, welcoming smile on her face, she lifted her face to him, but he passed her desk with little more than a nod. A half-nod, actually. Some women might have been insulted, but for an eternal optimist like Tessa, it was enough. It would take a whole lot more than an unenthusiastic hello to slow her roll.

  Patience.

  Dyrk went straight to Ragan’s desk. Poor Ragan. He looked half-dead, and judging by the numerous paper coffee cups littering his de
sk, he’d pulled an all-nighter. Curiosity got the best of her and she wandered over to listen in on their conversation. She didn’t try to be sneaky about it or anything, but still the two specialists barely noticed her presence.

  “Did you smoke something funny this morning?” Ragan was saying, about what, Tessa didn’t know.

  Dyrk huffed. “Don’t be a wise-ass. I know he did it. I can feel it in my damn bones, Ragan.”

  “But Xavier Manchester is Stark’s money manager, not a thief. What proof do you have he stole all of Stark’s money?”

  “I don’t. I just know he did it.”

  “But how?” Ragan pressed.

  Dyrk’s lips, the ones she’d spent the night dreaming about kissing, turned into a hard, thin line. “I…don’t know.”

  Excitement flooded Tessa. “I know! It must have been the crystal treatment from last night.”

  Ragan’s eyebrows shot up as his gaze bounced between her and Dyrk. “Excuse me?”

  Tessa smiled happily at him. “I taught Dyrk some yoga last night and performed a special crystal treatment designed specifically for dragons. It’s meant to provide clarity when done correctly, which, not to toot my own horn, it was.”

  Tessa braced herself for Dyrk’s patented eye roll, but instead he surprised her with a small, shy smile instead. Her heart performed a backflip in her chest, and she scooted a little closer to him so they could booth peer over Ragan’s shoulder as he pulled up Stark’s file in Xavier’s now-hacked system. Endless tables of numbers filled the screen, making her vision swim. Spreadsheets were so not her jam, but she was willing to play along if it meant getting to stand next to Dyrk and soak up his presence.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she said, leaning in a bit closer, “but it looks like he has more than enough in his accounts to finance ten trips around the world, much less a family vakay to Oz.”

  “That’s what it looks like to me too,” Ragan admitted, giving Dyrk a pitying look.

  “Seriously?” Dyrk grumbled. He heaved a sigh and raked his fingers back through his hair with frustration.

  “Looks like nobody’s touched Stark’s piles of cash,” Ragan said.

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” Dyrk said and slammed a fist on the cubicle’s partition. “I really thought I could follow my gut on this one. This so-called case should be simple. Why do I keep hitting dead ends?”

  “You’re telling me.” Ragan sighed.

  Tessa wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t as though she had a secret degree in accounting and could offer some insight. She was lucky to balance her own accounts on a monthly basis, if not yearly. But Dyrk was so frustrated it made her heart hurt. She had to do something.

  So, she did the only thing she knew would help. Slipping behind him, she began massaging his shoulders. At first, he tensed, but quickly relaxed under her touch as she worked her fingertips into his knotted muscles. For almost a full minute, he melted into her, his body giving in to what he needed so badly. Then, almost as if electricity zapped through him, Dyrk jerked away, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  Tessa gave him a sympathetic smile. “Stress is a killer, you know. Meditation would definitely help, if you gave it a chance. Would you like to meditate with me at lunch?”

  She held her breath, waiting for his answer, though she had a feeling she knew what it would be. He didn’t disappoint.

  “I can’t. Since this was another dead end, I need to work through lunch.”

  Well, that was that. At least he made an effort to let her down easy, but clearly he wasn’t interested in what she had to offer. A bit of a bummer, to be sure, but c’est la vie.

  “How about after work?” he asked quietly.

  Tessa would have easily been knocked over by a feather after that, and it took a minute for her to believe she’d heard right. When she was sure, she broke into a megawatt grin.

  “It’s a date!”

  Chapter Four

  Why did he agree?

  He’d been asking himself that very question every hour on the hour since Tessa’s offer to teach him meditation. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to dread their appointment. In fact, every time he tried to ask himself why, he found himself thinking, Why not?

  Of course, the answer was probably somewhere in that tight bunch of muscles between his shoulders. The knot was just out of his reach and he desperately wished Tessa had massaged the spot. He hadn’t wanted her to stop, not really, and the fact that he knew she’d be all too delighted if he asked her to continue only made it worse. This was getting out of hand.

  It was a little after five, and he was still locked down in his cubicle. People had started going home, and he was getting nowhere with his own assignment. That drove him up the wall more than anything else.

  He itched to get back to the task force where he could do some real good. This kind of pressure usually helped him work harder and smarter, but this time, it was only slowing things down. He was wasting his time on a fool’s errand, and if he didn’t know better, he’d wonder if Charlie had something out for him.

  “Any luck before I take Alice out for dinner?” Charlie asked from the entrance to his work space, snapping Dyrk out of his trance.

  “Depends on your definition.” He twirled a pen in his fingers as he leaned back and crossed his legs. “Xavier Manchester is nowhere to be found. His answering service has absolutely no clue where he is, and every cell phone number Ragan was able to dig up for me has been disconnected. So, if I were trying to make sure someone’s disappearing act was working well, I’d say I’ve had plenty of luck!”

  Charlie gave him an unamused look. “I suppose I’ll take that over empty assurances. Always have appreciated that about you, Dyrk. You don’t beat around the bush.”

  Dyrk had a few thoughts about that, but before he could answer, his cell phone lit up, and Charlie gave him a wave as he hurried to meet Alice at the front door. He still couldn’t believe the two were now a couple. But stranger things had happened. Still, he couldn’t take his eyes off them as he swiped at his phone without looking.

  “Dyrk Fortis.”

  “Awww, so nice to hear from you too!” Wyntir’s voice came through the receiver, a bit fuzzy but otherwise clear. Dyrk’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

  “Wyntir!” he hastily pulled out a notepad. “Thank god, what’s going on?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing. We’re back in Hobart for a few hours to refuel and stock up on food, and I couldn’t help but notice the deluge of emails and voicemails. I thought you might appreciate a check-in. We’re about to sail back to Melbourne, and then we’re flying straight back home to Los Angeles from there.”

  Unsurprisingly, there was a testy edge to her voice. Wyntir had always valued her vacation time jealously, and now, she had an even bigger incentive to stay away in the form of Stark Bradford’s loving embrace.

  “Now, what have you found out about Stark’s cards?”

  “I can’t get into anything without his permission, and I can’t get a hold of his financial advisor, Xavier.”

  “Hold on. You’d better talk to Stark.”

  When he came on the line, Dyrk launched right into the crux of the issue, not wanting to risk the call dropping again. “Listen carefully, because this is going to sound bizarre, but I need you to hang on the line for a few minutes and give me some info you won’t like giving away.”

  Over the next ten minutes, Dyrk furiously scribbled down every account name, number, password, and security question Stark had to his name. The actor gladly gave it all up since Wyntir was a Wildridge Security employee anyway and had access to a lot of the same info—or would soon enough, Dyrk figured, judging by how close they’d grown.

  “That’s going to help immensely,” Dyrk said once Stark had provided the last details.

  “Just be sure to burn that paper when you’re done,” Stark said, his tone not at all joking.

  “Consider it done, Mr. Bradford. Have a
safe voyage and I’ll see you in a few days. Hopefully, I’ll have a full report waiting for you.”

  “Sounds g—”

  Dyrk glanced at his phone. The call had dropped again, but thankfully he had everything he needed. And the best part was that he didn’t need Ragan’s hacking skills for what he had to do next.

  He hadn’t mentioned his theory about Xavier Manchester to Stark for a couple of reasons, the most important one being that he had no definitive proof. He’d need to have iron-clad evidence before he dropped that bombshell—that’s assuming he was correct in the first place. Besides, even the suggestion would have ruined the new family’s vacation when there was nothing they could do about it until they returned home.

  Within seconds, Dyrk had accessed the first account on Stark’s list. “Yes,” he hissed happily as he navigated to the right page and then his brow furrowed. “That can’t be right.”

  Opening a new tab on his browser, he moved on to the next account. “Uh oh, this is bad.”

  The first two accounts were completely empty—a balance of zero dollars. It was the exact same case for every last account on the list, even the offshore ones Stark said were air-tight.

  Dyrk’s blood thundered in his ears as he went through every account again, and then again, triple checking that he wasn’t hallucinating or had pulled up the wrong man’s account. Despite what Xavier’s spreadsheets said, Stark Bradford currently had no money to his name. Not only was every account drained, but his palatial mansion in Malibu had not one but two mortgages and his super-fancy luxury cars were leased, even though he’d claimed to own them all.