Quicksilver Dreams(164)

                “Hallelujah! There’s going to be a woman in this man cave. I guess I’ll have to stop burping and scratching now.” Sy continued to hold my fingers, rubbing them gently with his free hand, something that Ryder zeroed in on with a scowl. Sy continued on, happily oblivious. “Don’t worry. I’ve had all my shots, so I’m harmless.”

                “Thanks for letting me impose on you.” I tried to reclaim my hand, but he continued to hold it tightly, even massaging it a bit, though winking as if to let me in on a joke.

                Was he trying to piss Ryder off? Because it was working.

                “You are welcome. And if you need anything, please let me know. I want you to feel comfortable here. Our casa is your casa.”

                “She’s got the idea. Back off, Clark,” Ryder warned gruffly, his expression taking on a killing look.

                Sy must have had a death wish, because he only laughed. “Two words, Ryder. Buzz. Kill.”

                “That’s fine. We’ve got work to do.” Ryder pushed away from the edge of the shelving unit. “This thing is coming to a head, and we’re running out of time.”

                I wanted to believe there was a hint of jealousy going on, but really, it was more likely that he just wanted this episode of Taylor’s Madhouse to get resolved so he could get his life back without feeling like he was compromising his integrity. If nothing else, I could definitely count on his sense of right and wrong.

                The tone of the conversation shifted.

                “Ranik?” Sy’s carefree expression became alert and sober instantly. It was an unreal transformation to observe. There was a hard edge to his features that matched Ryder’s.

                “Yeah. He’s trying to take her out. Hired guys to grab her off the street a few days ago.”

                “He’s a slippery bastard.”

                “We need to coordinate information. Get Wes out here and see what he’s got. I can feel we’re close, but something’s missing. Something critical that we’re not seeing.”

                “Tech room, ten minutes?” Sy reached for a T-shirt that he’d draped on the back of the couch and slipped it on.

                “Yeah. Let me get Taylor settled, and I’ll be up.”

                “On it.”

                In the next moment, I found myself being pulled down a hallway and through a door to what was obviously a master suite, as the room was large and a few items of male clothing were draped across the bed. Ryder snatched them roughly and tossed them into a doorway that was likely a walk-in closet.

                Easily twice the size of my room in my apartment, Ryder’s had a king-size bed that graced the center of the room, which had a wonderful view of the ocean. The opposing wall was mostly made of glass. It reminded me of Ryder’s room on Te’re, which brought a host of other memories that I wasn’t ready to deal with. I had a brief impression of caramel-colored wood floors with beautiful, moss-hued Persian rugs, cherrywood furniture and pale, neutral walls before turning my attention back on Ryder, sensing aggressive energy. He tossed my bag on the rumpled, unmade bed and faced me, scowling.

                There was something on his mind, his black eyebrows drawn together, giving his chiseled features the impression of being even more angular and rough-hewn. He wasn’t a pretty boy like Sy. No one would mistake him for being a pretty male model, but he was so damn hot in a rough-looking way, and he just exuded power, strength and dominance. His vibrant eyes held me. There was danger behind them. I was ashamed to admit they still excited me without having to do more than flick over me. I didn’t know if he was going to pin me to the wall and ravish me (which, stupidly, I would probably have let him do, if the tingles in my womb had anything to say about it), or if he was angry about something.