Page 3 of Securing Her Secrets
I turn back to my screen, the familiar comfort of the glowing display washing over me. I’m deep in my code when the feelinghits again. It’s not the sickening spike of paranoia, but a cold, heavy weight sending chills shuddering through my body with each frantic beat of my heart.
My internal fire alarm goes off, and I blink a few times at my screen to make sure I’m actually seeing what I’m seeing. My personal computer—my fortress, my secret life—just registered a massive, targeted security breach. I’m not just being scanned; I'm being erased.
Shallow, panting breaths wheeze out of my throat as it starts to close. My mind is screaming,Danger. Immediate. Physical.The air in the break room, usually stale and innocuous, now feels thick and ominous. Every shadow in the corners deepens into a threat. The soft rattle of a book cart passing outside sounds like a gunshot. Nausea rolls in my stomach, and a dizzying wave of lightheadedness washes over me.
I shouldn't be here. I should be hiding. I should be running.
Focus, Rya.I try to pull up the emergency kill-switch for my local server, but my fingers are shaking too badly to hit the right keys. I clutch the edges of the desk, forcing myself to take a deep, shaky breath. “No one is going to kidnap you in the middle of a public library in broad daylight,” I tell myself. It does little to soothe the pulsing tension behind my eyes or loosen the knot in my stomach.
A low, squeaking sound sends my blood pressure through the roof, and I worry I might pass out for a second. The sound of the main door opening is a sudden, jarring noise. I don't look up immediately, frozen by the sheer, primal terror gripping me.
But then I feel him.
It’s not just a man walking in; it’s an event. I slowly lift my head, pushing my glasses up my nose, and my breath utterly dissolves in my lungs.
He’s massive. Towering. A wall of muscle clad in what looks like expensive, tactical black clothing. His messy brown hair isswept back, and his sharp blue eyes—my God, his eyes—lock onto mine with an intensity that steals the air from the room.
I can’t breathe, but the panic is gone, replaced by something warm and magnetic. Terror should be flooding me, but all I feel is a dizzying recognition, a sharp, claiming spark that feels straight out of the romance books I secretly devour. This man is an alpha, a protector, a brute carved from granite and heat, and his gaze tells me he is here forme.
He moves toward me, silent and shockingly graceful for his size. Every step eats up the distance between us, and by the time he’s standing directly in front of my table, I have completely forgotten how to speak.
The man is close.Tooclose. The smell of gun powder and something woodsy and masculine fills my senses. His shadow engulfs me as his dazzling blue eyes roam up and down my body, as if checking for injuries. There’s no other reason this man would be looking at me like that. Certainly not…Get it together!I yell at myself. This is not the time to fantasize about being swept away by a bronze god with intense, all-seeing blue eyes.
He slowly, gently raises his hand. It's huge, scarred, and intimidating, but it moves with impossible tenderness. The back of his rough knuckles grazes my soft cheek, and my entire body turns to liquid. My breath hitches, a helpless, needy sound.
I swear I see a tremor run through his powerful body, a flicker of something raw and possessive in his eyes.
“Rya?” His voice is a deep, gravelly rumble that vibrates through my chest.
I can only manage a single, shaky nod.
The next second is a blur. Before I can even register the shock, he bends down, one arm scooping behind my knees and the other supporting my back. I’m suddenly airborne, tossed over his massive shoulder like a sack of soft potatoes. The bloodrushes to my head, and I gasp, clutching the back of his shirt. He feels hard, solid, and utterly secure.
“You’re in danger,” he informs me, his voice low and urgent as he starts walking rapidly toward the exit. “I’m your bodyguard. We’re leaving.”
The terror should be back, but it's not. I'm too shocked, too overwhelmed by the sheer possessive power of this man, and honestly, far too turned on by the rough, caveman extraction.
My voice is thin, but steady. “Well, alright then.”
3
MILLER
Breathe,I remind myself, forcibly pulling air into my lungs. I have Rya slung over my shoulder like a caveman carrying his prize, and all my military training is fighting a losing battle against the feral instinct screaming in my skull.
I finally have her. She’s soft and warm, and her thigh is pressed against the side of my neck. Swallowing back a satisfied roar, I grip her securely, my knuckles white on her lower legs. I need to be smart about this extraction. I need to be silent and efficient. But every step is a battle to keep my focus.
Calm down,I keep muttering under my breath, hoping the sound is muffled by the fabric of her cardigan.
The feeling of her body pressed against mine in any way is overwhelming; the weight, the heat, the intoxicating scent of old books and something uniquely, sweetlyRya. Her skin is silky smooth and delicate, and as batshit crazy as it sounds, this closeness is life-giving. It’s the first time I’ve felt human since leaving the military all those years ago. Rya has given me something to reach for, something to hope for: a future with her.
“My mom didn’t teach me much,” Rya’s voice is muffled, breaking through the white noise of my obsessive thoughts.She’s surprisingly calm, considering I just manhandled her out of a public library. “But I know not to get into cars with strange men.”
A rusty, growly sound claws its way out of my throat,almosta laugh. I’ve forgotten how to make that sound, but Rya brought it out.
We reach my matte black SUV, and I finally set her down. I fight the urge to slide my hands down her curves as they brush against my chest and stomach, trying not to salivate over the sensation of her sliding down my aching, hard body.
Rya’s knees buckle a little when her feet hit the ground, and a slight tremor runs through her. I immediately steady her, my hand burning a possessive mark into her soft shoulder. As much as I want to gather her back up into my arms, I don’t want to suffocate her.
