Chapter Three

THE SMALL CONFERENCE ROOM of the museum adjacent to the pavilion is cold and dark, even with the fluorescent overhead light turned on. She sits at the head of the table and she feels as if she’s under interrogation as all of the overly muscled men crowd around her expecting answers.

Her teeth chatter as she tries to fight off the coldness until a large tuxedo jacket is draped over her shoulders. Norah looks back to find Ryker stepping aside with his back against the wall after sacrificing his jacket for her. She takes a deep inhale of the manly scent he’s left behind and she memorizes it. If it were possible to create the smell in a lab then she most definitely would.

Dylan, Jameson’s sister Sydney’s husband and ex-FBI agent, speaks first. “Norah, give us the lowdown on the events and then tell us how it directly affects you.”

She doesn’t raise her head she just begins to let the words flow as she describes the last 48 hours.

“Dr. Lewis and I had packaged up the commissioned device to take it to DC on Thursday. I last saw him Wednesday afternoon as we traded shifts. Someone was continually keeping watch of the case; we didn’t want it to get into the wrong hands.

“I woke up at two in the morning from a dead sleep and felt panicked. I had this gut feeling that something had happened, so I saved my software on the thumb drive and crashed my computer. As quickly as I could, I rushed to the lab and found the secure lock disengaged and Dr. Lewis gone.

“At first nothing seemed amiss, and I thought perhaps he ran to the bathroom, he was there for the second-night watch, but as I approached the case I scanned my finger in the biometric lock and the scanner and device were both gone.

“When I was getting ready to leave, I heard a lot of footsteps coming down the hall, so I found a basement window and jumped through after snagging Dr. Lewis’s personal server. I took out all the cash I could and rode the bus to Elizabeth City. From there I hitched a ride on a charter bus, and now here I am.

“Can you help me?” Norah asks as she finally raises her eyes to meet the stares of the men in the room with her. There is a mixture of surprise, fear, worry, and pride.

Dylan looks up from the pen and pad of paper he must have had hidden in his suit jacket and asks another question.

“What is the device and why are you in danger?”

“I’m not really sure if I am able to share with you. It’s a secret project commissioned by the government.  I haven’t even had a chance to reach them and tell them it’s missing.”

“Ok, let’s do that now,” the man with the pierced eyebrow that let her into the wedding states as he dials a number on his phone, immediately relaying the information to the caller.

“What’s your full name?”

“Norah Marie Blakely.”

Suddenly Cohen, as she learns is his name, turns on the speaker for his phone and sets it in the middle of the table.

“Ms. Blakely, this is Commissioner Jones. I’m glad to hear that you’re safe, though I am disappointed to hear that the project has been hijacked.”

“I am sorry, Commissioner.”

“Is there any chance that they will be able to get the project to work?”

“There is only one way to get the device to run as planned, all they can do right now is turn on the scanner and track the test device.”

“Ok, that’s not a problem.”

“Well, it sort of is.”

“Why is that?” he asks at the same time everyone’s eyes turn back to Norah once more.

“Because I’m the only one that can launch the program with my codes.”

The Commissioner takes a moment of silence, his knowledge of the program and the testing evident to the others in the room.

“Can someone please fill me in on what the fuck this device is?” Ryker says from behind her. His deep concern should alarm her, he barely knows her, but instead, she feels . . . protected.

“The device is a barcode of sorts that is placed behind the ear and can be used as a form of tracking device. It’s made of the same type of material as liquid stitches and embeds itself into the epidermis. It fully dissolves after eight years, but the person scanning can disengage the coding at any time.”

“Ok, so it’s a tracker. We can deal with that,” Dylan says, but Jameson shakes his head and murmurs, “That’s not all it does.”

“He’s right. The tracking is a plus and an easier way to find lost soldiers and POWs, but once the device embeds under the skin it can emit neurological transmissions at the push of a button. It can increase or decrease adrenaline rushes in the body related to fear, anger, and panic. It can also help keep someone awake and more cautious when they’re on long and intense missions.

“Its intention is to be used on soldiers when they’re entering a high combat zone to keep them more responsive. Small emissions are harmless, but in the wrong hands too much adrenaline can be lethal to a soldier due to increased heart rate and breathing. But if the program scanner is unlocked the coding could be overridden to a point where the person with the device can pretty much control every aspect of the person’s brain, changing their personality and decisions. You already have soldiers on edge, it wouldn’t be too difficult to have them fire against each other or bomb their own country.”

“Wow,” Dylan responds, astonishment written all over his face.

“But that’s not all. I’m going to need a concentrated form of sodium hydroxide.”

“Why?” Jameson asks, and Norah turns her attention to her friend knowing he’ll be devastated by her secret.

“Because I was the original test subject.”

“Fuck,” she hears Jameson say, but it’s the voice behind her that mutters a few curses that have her chest constricting.

“Let’s say that I need this laid out in layman’s terms. What does it mean that you’re the test subject?” Dylan questions as his thirst for knowledge runs rampant.

“It means that I’m the original person with a device embedded in my skin, just below the ear, and so if they didn’t know what they were doing and somehow unlocked the scanner, they could try to launch the program. We built it so if the device got into the wrong hands and the program was hacked that it would automatically release a transmission to the wearer that would cause them to fall into a coma. We didn’t want to run any risk of the device being hacked and used for something other than its purpose until it was presented to the Department of Defense.”

“So why were you chosen to be the test subject if you knew that something could potentially go wrong?”

Norah turns her face away from the stares, she knows that they won’t like her answer. She wipes her sweating palms against her dress, the softness comforting her.

“I’m one of ten selected, and I was chosen because I was the only one without something to lose. The rest were soldiers that volunteered.”

A growl sounds behind her and she doesn’t have to turn around to know that it’s Ryker’s deep voice. Hell, millions of fans would have recognized it from the radio. Only now she’s confused as to why her comment would cause his reaction.

Jameson scoots his chair closer to her and takes her hand in his, his touch soothing her frayed nerves.

“You know you always have me, Norah. Why would you go and do something like this? You knew it would make you a target.”

“I guess we just never expected it to happen. No one knows about the device, it’s top secret. The only people with any partial knowledge are my team and the Commissioner from the Department of Defense. And in all reality, I’m the only one that knows how to work everything in sequence. Without me, they can’t do anything.”

“What about Dr. Lewis, do you think he’d be able to break the coding? Or perhaps it was him all along?” Cohen asks as he reclines back in his seat crossing his arms over his chest.

“Dr. Lewis couldn’t hurt a fly, believe me. It’s not him. I’m more worried that he’s hurt,” Norah adds as she grips Jameson’s hand tighter.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because Dr. Lewis is around eighty-years-old and the size of a twig. It takes him about an hour to climb a flight of steps. But he’s a genius, and I will not stand for you claiming that he is the one at fault. He’s probably tied up somewhere hurt or worse, and you’re sitting here accusing him of this awful act!” she defends as she stands from her seat and leans over the table with her fists pressed firmly on the top. She never understood why people automatically assume the worst out of others. Norah had always been taught innocent until proven guilty, but that was rarely the case.

Cohen pops up from his recline and holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m sorry. Calm down.”

“No, you all fucking calm down! All I want is someone to help me burn this shit from my skin and take me away.”

Dylan stands from his chair and gestures for everyone else to join him outside the room.

When Norah is finally alone she crumbles back into the seat and rests her head on the table, pure, unfiltered fatigue taking over her.

She startles when she feels a hand on her back and turns her head to find Ryker kneeling beside her.

“I thought everyone left.”

“Naw, they don’t need my help. But I can leave you alone if you want,” Ryker suggests as he stands and pulls his hand away.

Norah moves so quickly she almost shocks herself as she reaches out and grabs his hand.

“No, please don’t. I’d like you to stay.”

Ryker kneels back down but doesn’t release his hold of her hand, and she relishes in the rough calluses of his palm and fingers against her skin. This is the hand of someone that plays hard. Their faces are close, only a few inches away, and if she possessed any boldness she would lean forward and press her lips against his. Instead, she shifts her gaze away from his mouth and focuses on his eyes.

Even with the oversized poster that had hung in her room she never realized that he had flecks of blue and gold in his hazel eyes and she wonders if the colors shift when he’s lost in desire.

“Norah,” he whispers as he inches closer to her.

“Yeah?”

“I want to take you someplace safe. Will you let me?”

She nods her head as if in an intoxicated haze, her mind spellbound by the man before her.

“I need to hear you say it,” he speaks in a soft voice as he reaches up and strokes his hand through the hair at the back of her neck.

“Yes,” she replies automatically knowing at this very moment she would go anywhere or do anything he asks.

“Good.”

Norah stares in amazement as Ryker leans closer to her bridging the gap between them. She closes her eyes and feels the slightest brush of his lips against hers just before the door to the room swings wide and thumps against the wall. She feels Ryker pull back instantly, his hand their only connection now.

Dylan speaks up as he enters, “So, we have a plan,” he begins, but he’s quickly interrupted by Ryker.

“She’s coming with me. I’m taking her to my house. It’s the safest place for her to be besides the White House.”

She watches as Dylan’s mouth flaps up and down like a guppy while Jameson strokes a hand through his styled hair.

“It’s actually not a bad idea. I have the whole place secure and the town will keep an eye out for anyone.”

Norah is filled with relief at the thought of staying with Ryker until she realizes her grave mistake. They won’t be alone because Ryker and Jameson live together. So much for living out her fantasies.

The group files out of the room as they discuss the best and quickest way to get to the airport and Ryker turns to face her, Norah’s hand still firmly grasped in his.

“Let’s get you home, princess.”

Ryker tugs on her gently and she stands, but as she follows behind him she wobbles a bit. He turns around and checks her over, but he must find something in her eyes because he bends forward and sweeps her into his arms.

“What are you doing?” she screeches but it does little to stop him.

“You’re fucking exhausted and can barely walk, even if you weren’t wearing those shoes.”

“But you don’t have to carry me.”

He continues to walk but turns to look down at her, and the smirk that’s been captured on numerous magazine covers grows on his lips. “Maybe I just want to hold you in my arms.”

“Is this how you talk to all your girls?” she asks but regrets it when the smile falls away from his face and a somber look replaces it instead. “Ryker, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Ryker picks up his pace and walks past Jameson who stares at them in disbelief.

“What’s going on?” her best friend says but Ryker doesn’t reply, and neither does Norah.  “Hey!” Jameson shouts and rushes to catch up with them. He jerks Ryker by the shoulder spinning them around. “I asked you a question.”

Ryker fumes, his nostrils flaring slightly and his hands tighten their hold on her skin. “She is fucking shattered, man, and can barely walk. Who cares if I carry her to the car?”

“You just . . . this is my best friend, Ry.”

“And carrying her breaks some sort of rule? Geez, Jay, lay off.”

Staring at the two brothers Norah feels a combination of awe and bewilderment. She has zero intentions of coming between the twins and hopes that she doesn’t cause a rift between them. Jameson has been her best friend for years but something about Ryker calls out to her, she just prays that it subsides quickly. Being one of many on the famous Ryker James’ bedpost is not a goal on Norah’s bucket list.

The brothers stare at each other in a silent face off and something passes between them because Jameson pulls away first, bringing his eyes to meet hers, and then walks away from them and farther down the walkway.

Ryker doesn’t speak though she yearns for him to tell her what just happened but with each sway of his steps she feels herself rocking into slumber. By the time they arrive at the large SUV Norah can barely keep her eyes open.

“Come on, princess. Let’s get you in the car,” Ryker says as he lifts her inside.

She crawls to the third row and makes her way to the far corner, leaning her head against the glass of the window. Norah feels the bench shift beside her, and suddenly her legs are pulled up onto the seat and across a lap. Opening her eyes, she gazes at Ryker as he situates her onto his lap and wraps his arms around her. With her head no longer against the window she rests it on Ryker’s shoulder, indulging in his masculine scent as it fills her lungs.

“You smell good,” she whispers as she takes another deep breath before settling in his lap.

Ryker chuckles and then adjusts his hold, gripping her more tightly. “Get some sleep, princess. We’ll stop by your hotel and grab your things and then be at the airport in about thirty minutes.”

“Mmkay,” Norah responds as she feels her body fall into a dreamless abyss.

 

*

 

RYKER HAD NEVER FELT the need to hold something so close to him before – not until Norah. She wasn’t weak or timid or defenseless, but something about her seemed delicate to him, and he refused to have someone break through that fragility.

His brother doesn’t understand. Jameson keeps turning around and giving him the stink eye as Norah continues to sleep in his lap. Like he would move her because his brother said so. No way. He’d keep Norah on his lap forever if she let him.

And isn’t that the strangest thing?

No woman has ever called out to Ryker the way Norah has, and she already believes that she is one of many in his life. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Despite his playboy ways Ryker can count on one hand the number of women he’s had some form of relationship with. Music is his life and sex and women can’t compare to the high he felt writing a song or singing on stage. Not until Norah.

She stirs in his arms as the car comes to a stop at the small private airfield. The door opens and Dylan stands to the side as everyone ushers out of the vehicle.

“You can give her to me,” Dylan insists, but Ryker hesitates unwilling to let her out of his arms for even a moment. “Dude, you can carry her when you get out,” Dylan chuckles and Ryker grits his teeth as he suppresses a growl.

“Fine,” he snarls as he scoots to the edge of the bench seat and hands off his princess. She barely moves a muscle during the exchange, just flops into Dylan’s arms without a peep.

Ryker exits the car quickly and takes her back just as fast, his heart pounding those few seconds he was without her.

“Man, you have it bad,” Dylan jests as he walks with them toward the plane.

“Yeah, probably,” Ryker admits as he looks down at Norah, her features calmed and relaxed as she sleeps.

“Look, Cohen and Eli are going to travel with you and Jameson. I need to get back to Sydney but we’ll be back in Carson tomorrow. I’ve sent a message to Preston and Heath to meet you all at the Asheville airport, so at least you’ll have police and FBI presence until your secured in your home. We’re all going to reconvene tomorrow evening.”

“Okay,” Ryker acknowledges. As he takes his first step onto the plane, he remembers a question he meant to ask. “Hey, Dylan. What’s sodium hydroxide?”

His brother-in-law’s face blanches at the question and he shakes his head. “I think you better ask Jameson about that one.” His silver eyes glint in the afternoon light and Ryker turns to begin his ascension into the plane.

Inside his private jet, Ryker stalks toward the back where the bedroom resides and painfully releases his hold of Norah and lays her on the bed. He moves to the closet and snags a blanket from the upper shelf then drapes it over her body, making sure she’s covered completely. Norah is still wearing his tuxedo jacket and the lapels cover half of her face. He tries to reach over and move one of them away, but she shrugs his hand away and buries herself deeper inside his jacket.

Hey, if this makes her feel closer to me then so be it.

Ryker leaves the bedroom, closing the pocket door behind him, and stalks toward Jameson where he sits in his seat reading a magazine.

“Tell me,” Ryker demands as he takes the seat facing Jameson, a small polished wooden table between them.

“Tell you what?” his twin replies as he deposits the magazine on the table and situates himself in the chair for takeoff.

“What is sodium hydroxide and why does she need it?”

“Are you sure you really want to know that, brother? I get that you’re fascinated with her, but she’s going through a rough time. You pursuing her is only going to confuse her more especially when you up and leave.”

“Who says I’m going to leave?”

“You’re a rock star, that’s what you all do.”

Ryker’s gut churns at how his brother implies he would just toss Norah aside. Never in his life had he ever felt as depreciated as he does in this moment, and by his own brother. But instead of listening and walking away by letting Jameson take care of his best friend Ryker feels a need to prove him wrong. And maybe himself too. Because if there is anyone that would change their life for someone it would be him, hands down.

“Jameson, before I decide to kick your ass, tell me what it is and why she needs it.”

Fingering his hands through his hair Jameson takes a deep breath and then leans forward on the table as the plane begins to taxi down the runway.

“Essentially sodium hydroxide is liquid drain cleaner, but Norah is going to need a very concentrated form.”

“Why?” Ryker persists as the plane soars up into the sky, the pressure in the cabin causing his ears to pop.

“Because we need to burn the device out of her skin.”

With a roar, Ryker unfastens his belt and stands as fury fuels his veins. The group stares at him dumbfounded, and the flight attendant glares at him from her seat at the front of the cabin and urges him to sit back down until the plane levels. But Ryker ignores them. He rushes toward the back of the plane toward the bedroom. His vision is red as wrath surges through him.

He can’t believe that she has to inflict this pain on herself because someone stole her work. Or that anyone in their right mind would let her place the device on her body.

How bad will it burn? Will she be scarred? Will it even work? He thinks to himself as he slides open the door and then shuts it just as quietly.

 Ryker knows she’s sleeping, and she needs her rest as much as he does after a world tour, but the anger inside him is too powerful to stop. He kneels on the floor beside her turned head and runs a finger over her cheek, savoring the softness of her skin

“Norah,” he whispers and she moans, licking her lips as she resituates her body on the bed. “Norah, princess?”

“Hmm?” she replies as her eyes open just a smidge and her beautiful lips pucker toward him.

“I’m going to kiss you. I need to kiss you.”

“Mmm. Okay,” she acknowledges.

Ryker wastes no time leaning forward to brush his lips against hers while cupping her cheek in his hand. Her lips taste of cherry, and he knows he’ll never be able to enjoy the flavor in the same way. Powered by curiosity, he licks at her mouth seeking entrance, and when she obliges by opening her mouth, he practically groans at the feel of her tongue against his.

He is so lost in the feel of their tongues sliding against each other that he doesn’t realize that he’s crawled onto the bed and is now hovering above her. It’s not until her hand reaches up and threads in his hair that he pulls back slightly to find himself nestled between her legs.

“Shit. Princess, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t stop,” she commands as she tugs on his hair and Ryker is too lost in her to pull away.

They kiss for minutes or hours, Ryker isn’t sure. They fight for control in their caress, each one nibbling or sucking the other’s lip at will. Norah rocks her hip against the cock straining in his pants and Ryker growls into her mouth and then pulls back.

As much as he wants to take her right now, he knows this isn’t the time or place. Nor is she in the right mind to make any decisions like this. When he finally has her he wants her full submission to him, he wants her begging him to take her.

“Is something wrong?” Norah asks in confusion and Ryker leans forward to place a gentle peck on her lips and then her cheek before putting his mouth beside her ear.

“When I have you it will be in my bed and at my mercy. I want you screaming my name until you lose your voice. Understood, princess?”

Ryker rolls over and lies beside her, his arm draped around her waist as her head follows his movements.

“Why do you call me princess?”

“Because you remind me of Snow White.”

“Oh.”

“Do you understand what I said?”

She hesitates and then licks her lips. “Yes.”

“Good. Now turn over and try to get some more sleep.”

Norah complies without a word and turns so that her back is facing him. They scoot toward each other until her perfect round ass presses against his pelvis. Silence fills the room, only the rumbling sound of the engines filling the space.

“Hey, Norah?”

“Yeah?” she replies instantly as her hand settles on top of his around her waist.

He immediately interlocks their fingers together.

“Where is the implant?”

“It’s behind my left ear about the size of a quarter.”

“Is it . . . is it going to hurt to burn it off?”

“Probably. I’m trying not to think about that. Hopefully, Jameson can get his hands on the chemicals I need.”

“What happens if he can’t?”

“Then I’ll need to head back to my own lab and grab some.”

“Hmm...” he mumbles as he lets that thought fill his mind. There is no way in hell he’s allowing Norah to go back to her lab and retrieve anything. At least not by herself.

He feels her breathing even out underneath his palm, and though he shuts his eyes, he can’t sleep. His mind is filled with images of Norah being captured and beaten until she unlocks the device. And then another of her being burned and her flesh falling away as the acid is poured on her skin.

By the time the plane touches down in Asheville the sky has darkened, and Ryker is covered in a heavy sweat.

The pocket door slides open and Jameson peeks his head in. “Hey, we’re here. She sleep the whole time?”

Ryker sits up and nods. “Yeah, she’s exhausted. Hey, Jay? How bad is it going to hurt her to burn this thing off?”

“I don’t know, I’m guessing pretty good, but luckily it’s a small spot. I’ll get dad’s burn kit from the fire station so we can dress it once the skin is burned through.”

“Dammit,” Ryker curses and tosses his head back in defeat.

Jameson looks at him in perplexity. “This is really eating you up, isn’t it?”

“God, man. I don’t want to see her hurt and she has no fucking choice if she wants to keep these guys from coming after her.”

“I know. It’s a fucking awful situation.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“What other options does she have?”

“She could wait it out. We could protect her until we figure out who’s after her?”

“You really want to take the risk of someone kidnapping her under our noses? Because, Ryker, that could still happen. Until this is gone, she won’t ever be safe.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right, but it still don’t like it.”

“She’s stronger than anyone I know, but she’s had it rough so take it easy, man.”

“Is that your consent to pursue her,” Ryker asks with a smirk.

“Hell no. I still don’t want you anywhere near Norah, rock star,” Jameson complains as he turns to exit the bedroom.

Ryker sits up and leans over to peer down at Norah as she sleeps. Except she startles him as she opens her eyes and stares back at him.

“Are you done talking about me now?” she jokes.

“How much did you hear?”

“All of it,” Norah adds as she sits up causing him to move back onto his heels.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m kind of astounded that you care so much. You barely know me.”

“I know enough,” Ryker implies as he leans closer into her space. “I know that you’re smart, and opinionated, and so fucking beautiful you make my chest hurt. And I know that from the moment you slid into the wedding reception I have never felt more alive in my entire life.”

“Oh.”

“So, you’re stuck with me, princess. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s good because I want to keep you,” she whispers as she leans forward and grabs a fistful of his shirt bringing his lips to hers.

Pulling back Ryker takes in her flushed cheeks and tries to memorize how she looks at this very moment.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”