Dark Shadows (Gia Santella Crime Thrillers Book 11), Kristi Belcamino [ereader with dictionary .TXT] 📗

paradise unto itself. I couldn’t believe that Ryder woke every morning to this view. It seemed unreal. No wonder he lived here.

I squinted and saw Ryder, already dressed in his standard uniform of black jeans and button-down black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was standing at the stove holding a spatula.

I took him in.

My entire body felt electric as I looked at him. The veins in his forearms, his tight ass in those jeans, the muscles of his back…

Nothing was sexier than a man cooking. Okay. That’s a lie. A father caring for his child was the sexiest thing ever. Thinking that made me think of Nico, and a pang of sadness zinged through me. But I pushed it away.

I watched him and, as quietly as I could, I slipped out of my underwear and bra. Then I grabbed the sheet, tugging it loose and wrapping it around me.

I got out of the bed and stretched, yawning loudly. Ryder turned and smiled. But when he saw me standing there in just a sheet, he quickly looked away before he spoke.

“Sorry, I was trying to be quiet. But it is ten.”

“It is?” He still wouldn’t look at me. He spoke over his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“What time…” I was about to ask what time the bodies were being flown home. But he knew what I was getting at.

“One.”

“Okay.”

“We have time to eat.”

“Do I have time to shower before breakfast?” My voice sounded strange in my ears. It sounded plaintive, unsure. Not very Gia-like. I wasn’t sure why this man had this effect on me.

He didn’t answer. He was busy at the stove. Bacon was sizzling. Eggs were frying. Toast was popping out of the stainless-steel toaster on his counter. Butter was in a dish on the counter. Coffee on the stove and he had squeezed fresh orange juice for us. My mouth watered to sip it. My stomach growled. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had food. But I wanted something else right then. I needed something else first.

“Ryder?”

I let the sheet slip off my shoulder.

When I said his name, there must have been something in my voice because he finally glanced at me. He took me in fully. I saw his eyes rake over me. My body burned from his gaze. Just like I wanted. His hand stayed frozen in mid-air, holding the spatula. I saw his Adam’s apple bob.

My heart raced, and I realized I was holding my breath. I let the sheet drop where it puddled silently on the wooden floor. I stood there waiting, feeling vulnerable and suddenly insecure and uncertain.

He turned back to the stove. But he set the spatula down and turned off the burner.

When he turned back to me, I saw something in his eyes that I’d been denying I wanted to see since the first minute I met him.

He walked over to me so slowly that by the time he got there, I was a nervous wreck.

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve been with anybody but my husband,” I said.

He cupped my chin in his hand and leaned down. His mouth on mine was tentative at first and then grew more urgent. I knew immediately that waiting for this moment had been the right call.

Conner was hot and sweet, but it would not have been like this. This tenderness, this sophisticated knowledge of a woman’s body? Only Ryder could know how I needed to be touched right then.

I fell into his embrace and let myself go completely, surrendering myself to someone else.

His arms wrapped around me from behind and roamed over my body. His fingers started at my mouth and then trailed down my neck, shoulders, and chest and finally stopped where I was throbbing the hardest. He pressed me against the kitchen counter from behind with his entire body. His fingers probed and brought me pleasure that I’d forgotten I could feel.

He stopped suddenly and turned me so I was facing him. His eyes met mine.

He was making sure.

Because of Nico. He knew this wasn’t something I was doing lightly. That hesitation, and respect, made me certain that I was doing the right thing.

I swallowed and nodded.

The he took my hand and, without another word, led me to the bed.

I cried.

And Ryder held me. He wiped my tears and kissed them away and murmured soothing sounds in a language I did not know and didn’t need to speak to understand.

19

Ryder pulled up to the curb at the airport and leaned over to open my door.

“Aren’t you coming inside?” I said.

He shook his head.

“I’ll wait right here. Unless you need me.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Inside the terminal, I stood at the large window, watching them load the three caskets onto the plane.

At first I didn’t notice him. He stood slightly behind me.

It was Commissaire Boucher. He remained standing next to me as the caskets were loaded into the cargo hold.

“I can’t imagine the grief of those three families waiting in America,” I said, shaking my head.

“I wish I could say that it was the first time young people came to party here and didn’t make it back home,” he said.

I frowned thinking about that. He was right. People on vacation sometimes went crazy. Add alcohol and youth, and it was even worse.

“It’s just sad.”

“Very,” he said.

I turned to look at him.

“When did you first know it was Hannah?”

“When Amanda was murdered,” he said. “If she wouldn’t have killed the second time, she might have got away with it.”

“What are you telling the families?”

“We have passed the details of our investigation over to the American authorities. They have already told the families.”

“Do the others know? The friends?”

He shrugged.

I thought of the night I met them in the club. They had seemed so close. As if they’d been friends forever and would remain that way forever.

But now I knew they would probably part ways and never speak again. Sabine had left a day earlier on her own. She’d said she wanted to be with