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I know I’ve been on a red-eye, but it’s not like I stink, you big jerk!
Caroline put on her sweetest smile and grinned through it. She’d interviewed murderers before, and she’d never been scared of them.
Ryland Wolverton wouldn’t get the better of her just because he was rich and handsome.
FIVE
RYLAND
Ryland hated getting up early. He basically believed that waking before nine was a sin. Now, it was barely seven, and the sun was still rising in the cloudy sky, and there he was.
Waiting on the tarmac for some reporter who had gotten into trouble for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.
It was all fine and dandy when people tried to solve cold cases, but as soon as these reporters got too big for their breeches, they messed with things they couldn’t possibly understand.
And that made his job all the more difficult.
The sound of the loud jet engine cut through his thoughts, and Ryland watched as the BMA plane landed. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and texted Wilder.
Ryland: Your girl is here.
Wilder immediately tried to call him, but Ryland declined the call and texted instead.
Ryland: It’s way too early to talk to you.
Wilder: Don’t be a child. She’s not my girl. She’s someone with valuable information. Keep her safe and out of trouble.
Wilder: I hope you read those papers I sent you on the Vases of Destiny.
Wilder: Don’t fuck this up. Our reputation took a shit-kicking with Canaan and Elizabeth. No more mistakes.
Ryland looked down at the flurry of incoming text messages. Apparently, it didn’t matter how you spoke to Wilder. He would always find a way to get in the last word.
Bored and still craving sleep … or, at the very least, a large cup of coffee … Ryland opened one of the many emails Wilder had sent. He scanned the information, but nothing made it through his sleepy defenses. He was too distracted to retain any of it.
Finally, the plane touched down, and soon, the stairs were down, and a woman descended, scanning the tarmac as if she were expecting someone to pounce on her.
He recognized her immediately.
Caroline Knight. The true-crime podcaster.
Hisfavoritetrue-crime podcaster.
He frowned in confusion as she made her way over to him, but her identity was the least of his problems. The second her sweet sugary scent hit his nose, Ryland had bigger problems.
Mate. That woman is my mate. She’s mine.
* * *
Ryland couldn’t move.He didn’t even dare breathe. The second he did take a breath, his mouth and nostrils would be filled with Caroline Knight’s scent, and that was the last thing he wanted.
“You must be Ryland,” Caroline called out.
She was only a few feet from him, but she held out her hand for him to shake. He didn’t want to take it, so instead, he stuffed his phone into his pocket before crossing his arms.
“And you must be the trouble my brother sent me.”
Her smile faded, and her beautiful brown eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
