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“Mrs. Latour this is—”
“Don’t call her that,” the massive beast of a man growled at Mr. Lombardi.
Nerves had me biting my lip before I spoke. “But that’s my name. Am I in the wrong place?” I asked, turning wide eyes back to Mr. Lombardi at my side.
“You’re right where you belong.” The deep voice drew my attention back to him.
“Calla,” Mr. Lombardi corrected with a sheepish smile. “This is Ryker Fiore. He’s been your benefactor for the last year.”
“It's nice to meet you,” I said, trying to smile through my discomfort.
“You can go, Don,” the man named Ryker said to Mr. Lombardi.
Don nodded, touching my shoulder briefly before he turned for the door. “Wait!” I protested. “I don’t think—”
“Come sit down, Sunshine. We have things to discuss.”
I bristled, my annoyance allowing Don to slip out the door and close it behind him. “I do have a name, you know?” I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest.
He grinned at me, looking far too handsome although his body mass and the scars on his face made him look too menacing to ever really be beautiful.
He was dangerous, with those bright eyes that seemed too animalistic to be human, far closer to a wolf stalking prey in the night. A scar ran through his nose where it went slightly crooked like he’d broken it at some point, and a thick scar ran through his right eyebrow and left the faintest line on his cheek underneath it. He held out a hand for me, and I hesitated before I stepped forward to place mine in his.
Heat engulfed me instantly, his palm feeling like a furnace as it scalded me. With my much smaller hand enclosed in his, he guided me down the slight step and into the living area. He towered over me as I walked beside him, and the way he clenched his teeth only exaggerated the dramatic angular lines of his square jaw.
The living room was comfortable, despite its industrial original purpose. The flat screen television was tucked under where the stairs wound against the brick wall that separated the living and kitchen spaces. A large sectional looked comfortable but stylish and modern in the space and he led me straight for it. I instantly wanted to turn and go back to the table I’d seen in the kitchen, but let him guide me to the couch, regardless.
He pressed down on my shoulder in one corner of the u-shaped sofa, letting me take my seat before he sat next to me. His knee touched mine, and the moment felt unbearably intimate.
I suspected it would have felt that way with any man, given the circumstances, but with Ryker, it just seemed more. My body came to life. It buzzed with attraction in the same way it had that day all those years ago when I hadn’t been able to do anything but discourage it and feel guilty for feeling it at all. I’d been married and happily at that. Being attracted to another man wasn’t something I allowed myself to feel, so I’d taken comfort in the fact that I’d never see the man again.
But I no longer had the protection of a husband to keep me from feeling something I shouldn’t, and I’d walked into a situation I felt incapable of dealing with now.
Or you know, ever.
I had a feeling I’d never be ready to deal with the reality that was Ryker Fiore.
“You must have questions,” he grunted finally, and I realized he still clutched my hand in his. Giving a gentle, testing tug, I pulled it back. He released it, and I used it to tuck my hair behind my ear and smile sheepishly. I felt mollified that he’d released me, that he respected my boundaries enough to let me control my body in the space he’d put me.
But when I set my hand back on my thigh, he grabbed it in his again and his hand was like a brand even through my yoga pants. I stared at the contact in confusion for a moment, before I pressed on.
I needed to get th
e fuck away from him, and to do that I needed to get this conversation out of the way and get the answers to the questions that had built within me for a year.
“I don’t understand what’s going on. You knew Chad?” I asked, and I fought the urge to flinch when his hand tightened in mine and his jaw clenched.
His blue eyes were intense on mine when he answered. “I worked with him here and there.”
“You’re an officer?” I asked, and his lips curved into the hint of a smile.
“Let’s just say I work in criminal justice and leave it at that. Chad consulted with my boss sometimes, but I was his point of contact.”
“I-okay,” I whispered. “That day in the park, was it just a coincidence?”
“No, Tesoro. That was when your husband first started working with us. Sometimes my job requires me to investigate new contacts.”
“You investigated me?” I said, yanking at my hand. He didn’t release it, only held it securely without hurting me. “I thought you and Chad were friends. Why would you investigate his wife?”
