Page 27 of Ryder’s Storm

“I’ll drive you,” Ryder interrupted.

“There’s no need,” Derek said. “Scarlet will be perfectly safe with me.”

“I’ll drive you,” Ryder insisted. “It’s my job. And don’t worry, I won’t be sitting at your table. But Mr. King hired me to protect his daughter. And that’s what I’ll do.”

Scarlet noticed how the two men stared at each other like two bulls sizing each other up before a fight.

There was a sudden tension in the room. Claudia broke it. “Of course, Ryder. Thanks for offering to drive them.” She smiled. “I’ll see you all when you come back after dinner. Oh, and, Ryder, after you bring them back, why don’t you take the rest of the night off since I’ll be here? You’re working long enough hours as is.”

“Of course, Mrs. King,” Ryder said.

Scarlet looked down at herself. “Do I have time to get changed? I think I need to put on something a little fancier for a French restaurant.” And for her flirtation to have the desired affect: to show Ryder what he was missing, and to pretend that she was interested in another man, a good looking one at that.

Derek was handsome and had an easy smile. He oozed charm and was dressed fashionably like someone who’d just stepped out of GQ Magazine. However, despite all his good attributes, nothing inside her stirred when she looked at him. When he’d kissed her on the cheek, her body hadn’t reacted at all. Her heart wasn’t beating any faster either. He didn’t excite her, and under normal circumstances she would have found him boring. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

She regretted that she had to use him for her own selfish purpose, but in love and war, everything was allowed. And this was war.

Liar.

She tried to silence her inner voice, but the damn thing continued.

It’s not war. It’s love.

She turned on her heels and hurried up the stairs. In her room, she grabbed a pillow, held it to her face, and screamed into it. Then she dropped it, feeling marginally better. She marched to her walk-in closet and entered, flipping on the light.

What should she wear? Tight pants? A low-cut dress? A short skirt? The choices were endless.

15

Ryder leaned against his SUV in the no-parking zone right outside the French bistro where he’d dropped Scarlet and Derek off. No meter maid would bother him, because his car sported a special decal on the license plate, marking it as a vehicle with special parking privileges thanks to Scanguards’ close ties to SFPD. From his position only a few yards away from the outside dining area, he watched Derek and Scarlet enjoy their dinner. They sat under a heat lamp that made the area comfortable for the diners, despite the cool evening air.

Just as well that Scarlet sat right beneath the warming lamp, because her skimpy clothes certainly didn’t provide her with much warmth. If vampires could get heart attacks, Ryder would have been struck dead the moment Scarlet had descended the stairs in her home. Even her stepmother had raised a stunned eyebrow, but had made no comment.

Scarlet wore the exact same outfit she’d worn the night Ryder had met her at the Mezzanine. That was no coincidence. It was provocation. Ryder’s blood was reaching its boiling point. She was flaunting her sexuality. The only concession she’d made was draping a light wrap over her shoulders, which did nothing to hide her curves or her flesh. Or the fact that Derek could ogle the mounds of her breasts whenever he wanted to.

She’d tossed him a triumphant look before letting Derek help her into the car. Did she not see how that guy was leering at her? Ryder was in the right mood to kick Derek in the balls for looking at her with such undisguised lust. And Scarlet pretended that she didn’t even notice it. She continued hanging on his every word as he droned on about his time in Paris, laughing at the stupidest of jokes. Even from this distance, Ryder could pick up fragments of their conversation thanks to his superior vampire hearing.

It didn’t escape Ryder either that Derek used every occasion to put his paws on Scarlet, ever so often touching her arm while talking, or using the old you-have-something-on-your-face trick to touch her face as if removing some imaginary hair or food particle. Ryder had to keep his anger tightly leashed, or he would go to their table and give the jerk a thorough thrashing. But he couldn’t, or Scarlet would have good reason to demand that Ryder be fired.

That, he couldn’t risk. Because being pulled off Scarlet’s protection detail while a predator like Derek was moving in on his territory, was the worst thing that could happen to him right now.

The dinner dragged on, trying Ryder’s patience. It seemed like an eternity, until Derek finally called for the check and settled the bill. Moments later, they were back at the car. This time, Ryder blocked Derek and helped Scarlet into the back seat of the SUV himself.

“What do you think you’re playing at?” Ryder whispered under his breath as he leaned in, pretending to adjust Scarlet’s seatbelt.

“None of your business,” she replied just as quietly.

The evening traffic in San Francisco had picked up and the ride back to the house took almost half an hour. When Ryder stopped the SUV outside the King residence, Scarlet leaned forward.

“Thanks, Ryder,” she said in a soft voice, which she probably only employed for Derek’s benefit. “Enjoy your evening off. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Scarlet and Derek got out of the car, and there was nothing Ryder could do or say. Claudia had confirmed that she would be staying overnight, and had given him the night off.

Ryder slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

He was at his wit’s end. He needed advice from the only person he knew who’d understand what he was going through. Even if it meant that he had to admit to him that he’d lied.

Ryder pulled out his cell, then made the call.