He watched her for a moment longer, as if he expected to catch her in a lie. But what lie? There was no way he could know what she’d done, and Billy was in Europe somewhere, well out of danger and the disgusting trade he’d accidentally dabbled in. “Peanut butter and jelly or peanut butter and jelly,” he said, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a couple of jars.
“I can hardly decide. Maybe I’ll have peanut butter and jelly,” she drawled.
“Good choice.” He shoved the jars at her. “Bread’s over there”—he jerked his head in the direction—“and knives are in the drawer beside you. Dull knives,” he added.
She opened the drawer. “Dull knives hurt more,” she said.
Again that crazy suspicion on his part. Maybe paranoia was an important part of his makeup, but it was absurd when it came to her. “How do you know that? Experience?”
She gave him a long-suffering glance, accompanied by a world-weary sigh. “Didn’t you ever see Robin Hood? The whole thing about cutting someone’s heart out with a spoon?”
His dark face didn’t lighten. “It’s been done.”
She just stared at him for a moment. “I
f you’re trying to scare me you’ve succeeded. Now why don’t you go away and let me get my sandwich without hearing about your paranoid fantasies?”
“And what’s my paranoid fantasy?”
“That I’m your enemy, when in fact, whether you like it or not, we’re colleagues.” She began assembling her sandwich. She would have gladly forgone eating if she could get away from him, but he wasn’t about to let that happen. If she could convince him she was no threat, had no secrets, then maybe he’d stop focusing all that intense energy on her and she’d be able to relax.
“Colleagues, are we?” He took the jar of peanut butter from her and proceeded to make his own sandwich. “What makes you think that?”
“We both want what’s best for the victims of the Calliverian trafficking business. We both despise the filthy trade you and your colleagues broke up. We both want to help Soledad. Isn’t that enough?”
“Depends. It’s far from over with. We haven’t cleared up the source of the victims in Calliveria. There’s still at least one major player in all this, someone on this side of the world. You strike me as a woman with secrets. It was very convenient that you happened to show up at the ship just as we were taking down the final defenses. As far as I know there hadn’t been any word out on the scanners. So are you telling me it’s sheer luck that brought you there at the right time and place?”
She shrugged, pushing her guilt back. “I have friends in high places who make it their business to keep me well informed.” She stopped as his words sunk in. “Don’t tell me you think I have something to do with this wretched business! That you think I sold out women and children to be used abominably . . .” Her voice trailed off at the sudden sharpening of his expression.
He looked at her for long moment. “Interesting emphasis on the word I. If not you then someone else? Someone you know and are covering for?”
Stupid, stupid, stupid! She was going to get Billy killed with her own carelessness. She took a breath, thanking God it wasn’t as shaky as she felt. “Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone involved in human trafficking should be shot.” The words came out instinctively, and she almost wished she could bite them back. Everyone should be shot but her baby brother, who had simply made a terrible mistake.
“I’m more for gutting them and letting them suffer, along with child molesters, but the end result is the same.” He was still watching her carefully. “Are you going to eat your sandwich?”
She would choke on it. “I think I lost my appetite.”
For a long moment he said nothing, and his dark blue eyes turned even deeper, almost black, in the shadowy kitchen. He set down his own plate and started toward her, and instinctively she tried to back up, only to come up hard against the kitchen island, the wooden countertop digging into her back. He put his hands on either side of her, trapping her inside the prison of his arms, and he was too damned close to her. She could feel the warmth of his skin, his soft breath on her hair, and she wondered if she stood any chance of shoving him away.
Not likely. She had to be calm, matter-of-fact, not let him know how much he unnerved her. “Would you back off?” she said caustically.
“No.”
Damn, why was he so close? And why did she care? He was just a man, albeit a dangerous one, and if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that he had no sexual interest in her whatsoever. The threat of his barely clothed, masculine body had nothing to do with the peculiar heat that flooded her at his proximity. “What is it you want from me?” she said, her voice edgy with frustration.
“This,” he said, and put his mouth on hers.
Chapter Eleven
She tasted like sin, and Ryder moved in closer, pressing his hips against her. He could feel the quiver that ran through her body when he kissed her, and he wondered whether it was fear or something else. It didn’t really matter, as long as he could siphon the truth from her. Her mouth was soft beneath his, vulnerable, and he ran his tongue across her full lower lip before taking it in his teeth, tugging gently. He heard the surprised sound she made, and for a brief moment he forgot about prying secrets from her and concentrated on the ripe promise of her mouth.
He pushed his tongue past her teeth, and she shuddered in response. At some point her hands had come up from her sides and landed on his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away, which she no doubt would have wanted to do, she was digging her fingers in, pulling him closer to that delicious body of hers.
He wanted to fuck her. It would be easy enough to hoist her onto the butcher-block countertop, yank down that baggy pair of boxers, and thrust inside her. She’d like it—he’d make sure of that—but horny as he was, she wasn’t worth the trouble it would bring.
And then she made a little moaning noise in the back of her throat, and he slid his hands down to her hips and lifted her up anyway, stepping between her legs so that he could push against her.
He deepened the kiss. He knew how to kiss—he’d long ago perfected the art, and he put all his expertise into it, coaxing her, inviting her, teasing her, so that she would forget where she was and whom she was with. She pushed against him, her arms sliding around his neck.