Honeymoon To Die For (7 page)

If that meant Bianca had to look at Ryder like a lovesick fool, she could do it. But with the loaded silence festering inside the limo, she wasn’t sure how to bring Ryder back around to meet her halfway, especially when they were off stage.

Ryder lifted his right hand and reached over his left shoulder.

She followed the movement with her eyes.

He paused, looking at her. “What? The cut itches. Don’t worry. Your people made sure I couldn’t get to the chip from any position.”

“I wasn’t concerned about you getting to it—” she defended.

“Right.” Sarcasm rolled off his tongue with that.

Mama would say, “
You’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar
.”  Bianca let out a long breath. “I
know
you can’t reach it and I’m sorry the cut itches plus it probably hurts, too, but I heard they put the chip close to your spine. I was just going to say to ... be careful touching it.”

He just stared at her for several seconds, finished scratching and lowered his arm.

Not even one word, but he’d stopped frowning and the tension in the car had dissipated past the point of strangling her. She felt encouraged a little and decided to show she could meet him halfway. “Look, I admit that this is tougher than I thought, but I’m willing to try harder if you are.”

Ryder nodded. “Okay.”

She kept thinking he’d say something else, but she should realize by now that this was not the man in the file who had been the life of the party when he was in his late teens.  

 His gaze wandered over to her then shot past her shoulder and his eyes narrowed. “What the hell is going on?”

She looked around, trying to place their location in downtown Atlanta, which wasn’t easy. She’d spent a little time here back during her college days, but the campus was seventy miles east of the city, so those trips were rare. Her trips here to work with Murdock’s team had meant long, brutal hours at the computer with no time for sightseeing. She did recognize Centennial Park and the Atlanta Aquarium up ahead.

Ryder pressed the intercom button and asked the driver, “What are we doing here?”

“I was just informed by the CEO’s office to deliver you to this Hilton,” came through the speaker, “and that one of the Van Dyke pilots would meet you to take you up to the helipad. I’ll deliver your luggage to your home.”

What was Ryder’s father up to? Were they going straight to the Van Dyke home or not?

Ryder released the intercom button and leaned over to whisper in Bianca’s ear. “I’m betting Hubrecht changed the plan after the ceremony when the minister wasn’t convinced.”

That sounded so cloak and daggerish. Ryder
had
to be blowing smoke up her skirt now. This was
way
over the top. But sharing her lack of belief would not move this tentative truce forward. “What do you think is going on?”

“Don’t know yet. Just follow my lead and stay close.”

She wanted to keep things on an even keel, but she couldn’t let him start treating her like she
was
the little woman. She said under her breath, “Don’t underestimate me. I can take care of myself
and
I’m part of
any
decision that’s made.”

He cupped her face gently, silencing her with his touch. His deep voice rumbled close to her ear. “We’ve had privacy from the limo driver, but the minute we step from this car we’re going to be with people whose job it is to report everything they see and hear to Hubrecht. Every word, every action, no matter how subtle. This change in plans could be trouble, or nothing more than Hubrecht letting me know who’s in control.

He glanced around before he went on. “Either way, this is show time. If you can’t be on the same team with me and
own
the role of Mrs. Ryder Van Dyke, say so now, because whether you believe me or not, I didn’t kill Kearn, which means someone inside VDE either ordered the hit or knows who did.”

She started to pull away, but he turned his face to hers and let his lips brush her cheek. The zing she felt stopped her cold. He said, “There’s no replay in a mission, Bianca. If you can’t—or won’t—hold up your end of this, we’ll be dead by the end of the week.”

She wanted to doubt the part about ending up dead if not for the sincerity she heard this time that she hadn’t heard before. Plus, this was
his
family and
his
territory.

She had to walk a fine line between being responsible for this mission, since she was the agent in charge, and deferring to the person with more tactical experience.

The limo pulled to the curb at the hotel entrance.

A tight ball of wadded up nerves bounced around in Bianca’s stomach.

  She nodded at Ryder rather than risk her voice, then lifted her purse and stepped out when the door swung open.

Ryder climbed out right behind her, his gaze scanning the area.

He looked formidable. There was the Ryder Van Dyke who wouldn’t settle for anything but “mission accomplished.”  Time to appear happy for observers. She brightened the smile on her face and looked around expectantly, like a woman unfamiliar with her surroundings.

A man with short gray hair who wore a dark suit and mirrored aviator shades stepped forward and shook hands with Ryder, then dipped his head at her. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Van Dyke. I’m Jonathan, your pilot.”   

Ryder asked, “Where are we headed?”

Jonathan said, “I haven’t been given a final destination yet, but the flight plan will be filed by the time we reach the helipad.”

Bianca hesitated. Apprehension shimmered through her. Ryder
had
tried to tell the team during the strategic planning, but nobody had believed him about about how cautious Hubrecht would be, or that she and Ryder might be tested more than once. Murdock thought Ryder had been exaggerating to up his own value to this mission.

Bianca had, too. Until now.

Maybe not the only thing you’re wrong about
. Heaven help her if she’d blown off anything important he’d said that would end up getting them both killed.

Dammit, she should’ve spent their time in the limo ride working out some signals for what to say in surprise situations like this. Should she just go along with this, or should she come up with an excuse not to board the helicopter?

But what excuse? She couldn’t say she was afraid of flying when Hubrecht might well know she’d flown plenty of times for work with the FBI.

Ryder acted as if they’d blown
it, but no matter how much this sucked, she wouldn’t lay blame where it didn’t belong.
She
might have blown it. She hadn’t convinced the minister.

Time to bury the hatchet—and her real emotions—to reach her goal.

The question was, could Ryder maintain his calm if—
when
—she touched him?  

Ryder said, “Let’s go,” with as much enthusiasm as someone informed he had to jump from an airplane with no parachute.

Bianca reached for Ryder’s arm, but she moved more slowly this time, giving him time to process what she was doing as she hooked her fingers around his elbow, channeling her best version of an excited new bride.

The pilot stepped into the elevator and slid a key card.

Bianca missed a step and stumbled.

Ryder moved with lightning speed to grab her arm. He said nothing, but when she looked up he was watching her with ... concern?

Embarrassed, she said, “Sorry. Haven’t been in heels in awhile.”

She stepped to the back left corner and focused on breathing. The elevator was going up, not down. It wouldn’t fall going up, right?

Ryder stepped over next to her.

The elevator lifted slowly.

She felt sweat dampen the collar of her jacket.
Come on, you slow piece of dog crap.
 She hadn’t realized Ryder had moved until his arm hooked around her shoulder.

Had he realized she was fighting a panic attack?

Or was he just trying look the part of her husband?

“Here we are,” Jonathan announced as the door opened.

Should she move first? Or should she wait for Ryder?

He pulled his arm back, solving that dilemma, then he cupped her upper arm and gave her a little tug forward.

Once she was inside the helicopter, Ryder slid in next to her on the side behind the pilot’s seat. That allowed Bianca to sit on the left where she could see Jonathon in profile.

The pilot pulled on his headphones and lifted off, constantly checking the airspace around the Bell helicopter as they zoomed above the city that was just starting to twinkle with lights. His story about not knowing the flight plan was bullshit.

Ryder knew that, she was certain, but if he hadn’t protested, Bianca couldn’t either. She had to follow his lead.

Jonathon did a visual check to his left hand side and seemed to pause, as if sneaking a peek at her through those mirrored lenses.

It wasn’t dark yet, but the sun had set. Did he really need those glasses to fly?  

Ryder lifted his arm and hooked it around her shoulders again. Had he picked up on the pilot’s subtle surveillance too?

Exactly what was up with this helicopter trip?

Ryder’s fingers brushed across her shoulder. He gave her arm a little squeeze that felt like reassurance. Had he done it because he’d felt her tensing up?

And why would he care since no one could see that?

He wouldn’t. He was just really good at acting his part.

She was out of her depth with a man like Ryder.

During the two days of strategic planning, every minute had been so intense and fast-paced there’d been no chance for needling doubts to poke holes in her confidence.

She’d assured Murdock she could manage the relationship part of this mission. She might have oversold herself.

When it came to the opposite sex, personal interaction was her weakest skill set.

In the office, she was fine. After hours, not so much.

And she was well aware of her own shortcomings. Her last relationship five years ago had shone a blinding spotlight on every one. Bernard, the Gucci-addicted jerk she’d fallen for in college, had listed them thoroughly and often.

Bianca had gained acting experience out of the relationship, if nothing else. After the first month together, she’d
pretended
to be happy to make things work with him.

But that had been a child’s game compared to this.

Now she had to co-exist with a man she’d convinced herself, and everyone else in the FBI on this case, was guilty of murder.  

Doubt niggled at her conviction, though. Truth told, it had been nudging her conscience since she’d first met Ryder in person at the prison. The pilot did another visual check, pausing on the left again then turning back to his controls.

She cut her eyes up at Ryder, whose forehead was drawn tight in thought. He glanced over at her then at the pilot then back at her again.

What was going on behind that glittering silver gaze?

Ryder’s long fingers moved to the base of her neck and massaged the tight muscles.

Like most sexy guys, he was good at charming his way into a woman’s good graces. Was he seriously trying to work that charm on
her
?

Maybe it was lack of rest and constant stress, but Bianca’s muscles would not get on board with her indignation. They tingled with relief—and something else that bordered on an electric zing she was beginning to recognize every time he touched her. She let her head fall forward to hide the surprise she knew was on her face.

And she barely caught the moan before it slipped from her lips. Not that anyone would hear much over the engine and rotor noise, but Ryder might, and she didn’t want him to know how much she liked his touch. Her stomach flip-flopped with guilt because—
truth time
—she’d been wound tight as a spring for days, and she wanted him to keep going.

What was
wrong
with her? Playing a role was one thing, but if Ryder was capable of murder, how could she actually take pleasure from his touch?

This is not the time for that kind of soul-searching.

Right now she had to play along. Give back as good as she got.

Bianca considered several actions and settled on slowly turning to him then placing her hand on his chest and sliding it across to wrap his waist.

Ryder stilled, just as he had when she’d touched his leg in the limo.

Please don’t yell at me right now.
When he only continued to study her as if he’d just discovered a new species, she took a deep breath for courage and snuggled against his chest.

In her peripheral vision, she caught the pilot looking to his right, which meant he was going to turn to his left next.
 

Would this look real enough to make him report his impression of the happy couple to Hubrecht, even if Ryder wasn’t returning Bianca’s advances?

She felt like an idiot hanging on a man who was ignoring her. She gave Ryder what she hoped was a look of encouragement.
Come on, Ryder. I’m trying. Hug me back or something.

Ryder hesitated a microsecond then must have read the invitation in her eyes.

But he sucked at interpreting eye messages, because instead of just putting his arms around her, he kept drawing her close until his lips touched hers.  

She had no idea what to do now. Backing away would definitely give the pilot the wrong message, but kissing Ryder when she didn’t have to was a whole other kind of wrong.

Regardless, her body was just as confused as she was, because it enjoyed being in his arms, and apparently, kissing him wasn’t
ever
going to disgust her.

Just the opposite.

For all his faults, the man had a lethal mouth.

And he really threw her off balance when his lips moved over hers with a tenderness that turned her mind to mush. That crazy, fluttery feeling returned to dance a jig in her stomach. For the first time since she’d opened her eyes this morning, the fist in her stomach began to loosen. Heat spread through her like wildfire. She should break this up, and stop him from thinking he could just kiss her at will, but they needed to make up for the minister’s report and make this look good for the pilot.