After a few minutes, she sniffled, and swiped her hand over her cheeks, sitting back a little. “I’m sorry.”
He sighed. “No need for apology. Haven’t we talked about this already?”
Mena bowed her head, and her hair slid forward to hide her face from him.
He tucked several curls behind her ear, revealing a wet pink cheek and closed eyes, lashes clumped together from her tears. He slid his thumb across her cheek, wiping away more moisture. “I love that you’re strong, Mena. But sometimes, you need to let go and let someone else be the one you lean on for a change.”
She looked up at him, clearly startled. “I don’t...I haven’t leaned on anyone except Mom since this whole thing started, and I try not to lean on her much,” she said finally, her voice rusty. “She’s had a hard enough time, raising two girls on her own, and now helping raise Jason.”
“Well, you’ve got someone else to lean on now. I think my shoulders are strong enough to take it.”
She frowned, looking unconvinced.
He wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not. He chose ‘not’ for now. It was clearly a new concept to her to have to accept help from anyone else. She’d just have to get used to it. “Doesn’t look like you’re quite ready for supper,” he said lightly, cupping her chin and turning her face toward his so he could inspect her tear-stained cheeks. “How about we call Jason instead? Then we can think about dinner.”
She nodded, pushing away to go into the bathroom.
He heard water running, then splashing, and he let her have a minute.
She returned, still pink-nosed, her gaze somber.
He dialed Aggie’s cell number and held out the phone to her.
Mena took it, forcing a smile when her mother came on the line. “Hi, Mom.”
Her mother surely knew her well enough to know the smile and jovial tone were being faked. Even if he wasn’t looking directly at her face, he’d know it, and Aggie knew her daughter a whole lot better than he did.
Ryder pushed to his feet and gestured to the chair. He went back to the dresser and took his laptop from its bag, booting up to check his email. Behind him, he heard her half of the conversation, or most of it, as she lowered her voice while she was talking to her mother.
There was the email from Joel about what he’d overheard earlier. He scanned it, rubbing one hand over his chin. Danny was absolutely right. If the Harvesters had made the connection to him, they’d try to find out everything they could about his business, his partners, his employees. Might be time to call in a couple of favors from some other old friends to get a few extra pairs of eyes on this. He considered that for a moment, then turned to look at Mena when she laughed, a genuine laugh this time.
Obviously she was talking to Jason. Her expression had softened and a real smile curved her mouth. “You did not,” she said, her tone teasing. “Not a real horse.”
He shut the laptop.
A flicker of pain crossed over her face a moment later. “I love you, too, buddy.” Her voice thickened around fresh tears. “You want to talk to your daddy?...Okay, hang on.” She rose and held out the phone to him, avoiding his eyes.
He caught her wrist instead of just taking the cell, pulling her against him as he lifted the phone to his ear. “Hi, Jase, what’s this I hear about a horse?” He rubbed his hand up and down her stiff spine, feeling his shirt dampen beneath her cheek.
“I rode a horse, Daddy! A real horse! Danny took me today. It was awesome! Can I have a horse instead of a dog?”
Ryder laughed. “Instead of a dog, huh? You know horses can’t live in the house, right?” He held on when Mena would have moved away, feeling her quiver under his hand.
“I know. They live in a barn. But I really want a horse. I’d go ridin’ all the time. I’d feed ’im apples an’ carrots.”
He nuzzled her hair, inhaling the soft scent of her shampoo. “Well, we’ll have to think about it. Horses need a lot of space to run on, buddy. So, are you being a really good boy for Danny and Grandma?” He felt her shudder, and held on tighter.
She pinched his side, startling him, but he didn’t release her.
“I’m always a good boy, Daddy. You know that,” Jason said, sounding very put-upon.
“I know. Keep it up, okay?”
“I will. I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, buddy.” He heard her breath catch this time, then felt the tears on his shoulder, wetting his shirt still more. “I’ve got to go get your Aunt Mena some supper, okay? She’s starving.”
“Aunt Phila, you mean.” His son giggled.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, buddy. Be good.” He waited until the line closed, then shut off the phone. He dropped it behind him on the dresser and scooped Mena into his arms. When she didn’t protest the move, he knew the depth of her upset.
He carried her to the bed and stretched out with her, keeping her in the circle of his arms. “That’s why we won’t go back, baby,” he murmured. “Because Jason loves you and you have to stay alive for him.” He knew it was a low blow, but it worked.
She couldn’t contain her tears anymore, crying softly into his shoulder. Her tears soaked his shirt, and her breath warmed his wet skin underneath.
It didn’t take her long to cry herself out, though, and she lay breathing raggedly against him for a long time afterward. “That was a cheap shot,” she said finally, pinching his side again.
“I know.” He wouldn’t apologize, though. Not when he was certain he’d finally made his point. She could bruise his side all she wanted as long as she was safe.
She inhaled shakily. “Now I’m a wreck.” She sniffed and lifted one hand to wipe her face.
He leaned back. “A beautiful wreck,” he smiled, touching her lower lip with his forefinger. “We can get room service.”
She shook her head. “I’d rather get out for a while. I just have to wash my face.”
He held on when she would have pushed away.
Mena frowned at him.
“Are we agreed then?”
Her mouth flattened. “That I won’t go back and let the Harvesters kill me?”
He nodded.
She glared up at him. “Fine, bossy.”
Ryder held onto her again when she tried to move away. “We’ll find a way out of this.”
She shut her eyes.
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me right now,” he continued. “I know you don’t believe I’ll stick around. I’m not your father, Mena. I’m not whoever else let you down by not staying. I’m not going anywhere. And eventually we’ll get to a point where you’re safe from the Harvesters.”
She bit her lower lip, her eyes opening. “That is definitely a promise you shouldn’t make, Ryder.”
He wondered if she knew everything Kallan and Andrea had told him about their own experiences. Surely she did. “I won’t promise you anything I can’t deliver,” he said instead of asking.
She looked as if she might argue his claim.
He put his forefinger over her lips to stop her.
Clearly he still had some work to do to breach Mena’s walls.
He grinned, and her expression changed to wary, her eyes narrowing a little.
Good thing he was up to the task.
Chapter Ten
Ryder paced the room, watching the snow falling outside, and wished he’d made up his mind two days ago to move her. Now they were stuck.
Mena sat cross-legged on the bed, tapping at her keyboard and ignoring his pacing, as she’d been doing half the day. He knew she was working on his website, but he didn’t know how she could concentrate so well.
“Glaring at it won’t make the snow stop,” she said mildly, fingers flying over her keyboard.
He clenched his jaw and continued to stare out the window.
“Ryder, sit down. Turn on the TV or something. You’re starting to make me nervous.” She paused her typing to shoot him a quick glance. “You could email Danny or Joel for an upd
ate. Maybe it’s not snowing where they are.”
He scowled harder. It was definitely snowing where Danny was, but not at Joel’s current location. Not yet. She didn’t need to know that, though.
She might need to know, however, that a team of Harvesters had left the meeting in Virginia and headed to her house again.
But he hadn’t worked out how to break the news.
Of course, they wouldn’t find anything. Danny’s team had been thorough in their scrub. Nothing related to Mena’s family remained. Sure, there was a little bit of furniture left in both houses, but no personal information would be found. And nothing to give any clues as to her whereabouts.
He leaned against the window frame, staring at the piles of fresh snow covering the ground.
Mena sighed and set her laptop aside. “Come on. Sit with me.” She held out one hand.
He studied her, noting the pen tucked over her ear, the way her gaze was still not quite focused on him. He moved toward her, sliding his hand over hers and feeling her shiver. He stifled a smile and sat beside her on the bed. Then he decided he didn’t want to sit beside her, so he tossed aside the pillows behind her so he could sit there.
“It’s fine, Ryder.” She let him settle her with her back to his chest, his fingers locking together over her belly. “The snow is supposed to stop tomorrow morning. Where were you itching to go?”
He shrugged, silent. He hated to ruin her relaxed mood. She’d been much more at ease since their shopping trip three days ago. It was the most fun he’d ever had shopping, choosing dresses for her to try on, sexy dresses, then lingerie to go with them, and teasing her the entire time. Of course, he’d kept her in bed for much of the past three days, so there hadn’t been many opportunities for arguments.
But if he’d taken her out of here two days ago, they’d be farther from the Harvesters. At least out of the same state.
“Are you going to tell me what’s got you all broody? I know it isn’t just the snow.” She slid one hand over his, her fingers warm against his skin.
“There’s a foot of new snow on the ground.”
“It’s Pittsburgh. They know how to deal with snow in the winter here. What else?”
He sighed, debating with himself. “There was a team of Harvesters heading for your place.” He felt her stiffen in his arms for a moment, and then she forced herself to relax, blowing out a long, slow breath.
“Okay. But we’re gone. So that’s not a problem.”
“It’s closer to them than I wanted to be with you.”
“Ah.” She nodded, her hair tickling his nose. “So when the roads are plowed, we check out and go somewhere else.”
He frowned. That didn’t sound like Mena. He leaned forward to look into her face.
“What?”
“That’s too easy.”
A tiny smile touched her mouth. “Maybe I’m tired of arguing with you.”
He didn’t quite buy her easy agreement. “If that’s the case, how about getting the red and black thing we bought the other day out of the bag later so I can play?”
She laughed. “We’ll see.” She patted his hand. “First, I need to finish the website.”
“Finish? Already?” He tightened his hold on her.
“The big stuff. Pending your approval. And, I guess, Danny’s and Joel’s.” She tilted her head to look at him.
“You work fast.”
“It’s not like we have other pressing business.”
The tiny mole at the corner of her mouth tempted him to taste. So he did, leaning forward to kiss the corner of her mouth. Then he flicked his tongue over the spot, and he felt her heartbeat quicken under her ribs.
“Um, Ryder.”
“Mm.” He nuzzled along her jaw, finding his way to her earlobe and sucking the soft bit of flesh into his mouth. She tasted so damn good.
A soft sound passed her lips, encouraging him to continue. He continued on until she was naked beneath him, wet with arousal and perspiration, her breathing ragged, and her hips lifting hard into his.
It was a pretty good distraction, for both of them.
But he knew it wasn’t making her any safer.
Ryder stroked his fingertips along her side later, while her breathing gradually slowed back to normal. He propped his head up on one hand, his gaze following his fingers over her ivory skin. He traced the top edge of her tattoo, then frowned, leaning closer.
“What?” she asked, her voice raspy.
“The cup in your tattoo is a different color.”
She frowned, eyes still closed. “I don’t think so, Ryder.”
He touched the bowl of the goblet. It definitely wasn’t the same color. It had been gold the first time he saw it. It was more silver now. Everything else was exactly the same, the flowers, the snake. Just the color of the cup had changed. He sat up to study it better.
Mena opened her eyes and sighed. “Really?”
“Look at it.” He traced the stem of the goblet with his forefinger.
She pushed onto her elbows and looked down to where he stroked her hip. Her eyes widened in shock. “Oh, my Gods.”
He examined her expression for a moment before turning back to the tattoo. “I guess it’s never changed before.” His mind raced, trying to think if he’d heard anything about that and coming up empty. He’d email Kallan.
Mena moved out from under his fingers, and hurried to stand in front of the mirror on the door. “What’s wrong with it?”
He stayed where he was. “I don’t know.”
She turned a little to look more closely. “Everything else is the same.” She glanced at him. “This must mean something, Ryder.”
“Probably.”
The question was, what?
Philomena couldn’t sit still. She’d fired off emails to her mother and her mother’s great-aunt Lydia, the unofficial matriarch of the family.
Neither had replied yet, though it had been over twenty-four hours.
It was making her crazy.
At least the snow had finally stopped. She paused her pacing to stare out the window, where a caravan of plow trucks made another pass at the road past their hotel, toward the mall.
“We ought to be able to hit the road tomorrow,” Ryder said from behind her.
“Have they made it to my house yet?” She didn’t turn around, staring after the disappearing trucks.
He hesitated for a few seconds. “Yes.”
She shut her eyes. She hated the idea of those killers pawing through her house, her mother’s house. Again. It didn’t matter if no one was there, if all their personal things had been removed already. They were intruders.
“Joel said they found their buddy, too.”
She hoped it hurt them to find the man who’d come to kill her. Her heart beat faster. What was wrong with her? She’d never been so vicious before.
Oh, wait. She’d never been on the run for her life before.
Ryder’s hands settled on her shoulders. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”
“There you go again, making promises you shouldn’t,” she said lightly.
His fingers tightened on her. “I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”
She bowed her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I know you’re a little stressed right now.”
The tattoo was still the silvery color, faintly gold just around the edges. She’d checked it compulsively every time she went past a mirror.
It was ridiculous, but she couldn’t seem to stop. The tattoo had never changed before, not once since she’d acquired it. Before she became the Medusa, it had simply been a snake-shaped birthmark on her hip. Then one morning she’d gotten out of bed with cramps from Hades and snakes on her head, and it had been a fresh, bright tattoo, sore as if she’d sat in a tattoo artist’s chair for hours to have it etched into her skin.
She let Ryder pull her back against his chest, while she chewed on her lower lip. His heartbeat was steady, and it made he
r feel slightly better. “Jason and Mom are safe, right?”
“You know they are. Danny is one of the best.” He kissed the top of her head.
Philomena sighed and turned in his arms to rub her cheek against his chest. Hearing that did ease her mind a little. Now if she could figure out what the tattoo thing meant...
“Have you had any emails yet?”
She shook her head, sliding her hands around him to settle nearer.
“I have.”
She frowned, lifting her head. “From who?”
“Kallan.”
Her pulse skipped. Kallan. Andi. She’d forgotten about Andi when she’d fired off her emails yesterday. Duh. “And?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Andrea’s did the same thing.” He lifted one shoulder.
“When?”
“When they were hiding out from the Harvesters.”
“So it’s a protective thing? A stress thing?”
He shook his head.
She raised her eyebrows. “What is it?”
His throat worked as he swallowed, his dark gaze scanning her face for a long, long moment. “An emotional thing.”
Philomena frowned again. “Emotional?” She thought about the meaning of ‘emotional’. Fear was an emotion. Lust was an emotion. She wondered if either of those was a strong enough emotion to change the color of the amulet in her tattoo.
Probably not.
Her heart pounded harder inside her ribs, realization dawning. She shook her head. “No.”
He didn’t say anything, just kept his hands at her waist and his gaze on her face.
She pushed free and paced the length of the room. She was not falling in love with him. She dragged her fingers through her hair, scooping it away from her face while her pulse galloped along, drowning out any logical thought that might have surfaced in her head.
When she turned around, he still stood at the window, his broad shoulders tense. “You can’t really believe...” She didn’t even want to voice the words. That would be even more dangerous.
He didn’t say anything, but she saw the muscles in his arms tighten when he curled and uncurled his fingers at his sides.
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