Satisfying the Curse

An eRedSage Publishing Publication This book is a work of complete fiction. Any names, places, incidents, characters are products of the author’s imagination and creativity or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is fully coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form whatsoever in any country whatsoever is forbidden. Information: Red Sage Publishing, Inc. P.O. Box 4844 Seminole, FL 33775 727-391-3847 eRedSage.com

Satisfying the Curse An eRed Sage Publication All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2012 eRedSage is a registered trademark of Red Sage Publishing, Inc. Visit us on the World Wide Web: http://www.eRedSage.com ISBN: ISBN: ISBN: ISBN:

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Published by arrangement with the authors and copyright holders of the individual works as follows: Satisfying the Curse © 2012 by Kelly Gendron Cover © 2012 by Taylor Wade Printed in the U.S.A. ebook layout and conversion by jimandzetta.com

Satisfying the Curse ***

What happens when something pure collides with something tainted? Agent T. Ryker—the spawn of a rapist— believes his blood is contaminated. Juliana Pratt for years has been hidden away from the malice of society. When these two lives collide, craving disregards the diversity of their worlds. Like wildfire, their fervent passion grows, taking over everything around them...

When engaged in conversation, Juliana Pratt tends to draw from her vast textbook knowledge. However—beneath his touch—Juliana can't find the appropriate words to describe the wicked things Agent T. Ryker does to her body!

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Chapter One Ever since Josie introduced Ana to the unarmed combat of MMA, mixed martial arts, Ana had been addicted. There was something about watching a male body move with such intense, aggressive power. As Josie would say, it turned Ana on. In the cage below, wearing nothing but a pair of loose black shorts, the fighter's body was perfectly proportioned. Ana couldn't take her eyes off the MMA fighter called “The Kid.” She wasn’t sure calling him “The Kid” was appropriate, though. Undeniably, he was a man. His hair was brown, dark blond, and lighter at the wispy, sweaty ends. She couldn't make out his eye color. They appeared black from where she sat in the arena. With those dark eyes and that sinfully perfect body, he looked like an angel painted by the hand of the devil himself. Ana could see every detail in each contracted muscle. His opponent was taunting him, shaking his fists, doing arm sweeps and exaggerated bicep flexes. Despite the brute’s attempts to show him up and anger him, The Kid stood with clenched fists, valiantly watching the ridiculous macho act with dauntless confidence. It was far more intimidating than the hyper muscle show being performed by his larger opponent. And, like the chill before a shiver, the ache before a fever, Ana's curse stirred, warning of its waking. Ana's father had warned her that this would happen. That if she didn’t restrain the curse she was destined to become a wanton, just like her mother. It was the curse that left Ana practically orphaned, and Daddy Pritchard had repeatedly reminded her of what a whore her mother was. He frequently told Ana that sleeping around with other men was more important to her mother than taking care of her own child, more important than being a part of Ana's life. When Ana was only an infant, her mother had left to be with one of her many lovers.

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Satisfying the Curse Of course, in spite of his condemnation of her mother, Daddy Pritchard hadn’t exactly been there for Ana either. He simply sent her away to boarding schools, only visiting every first Sunday of the month when he would pick her up in his fancy limousine and take her out for lunch or dinner. It was during those infrequent gettogethers that he beat his warnings into the little girl’s head. Over appetizers and desserts, he brainwashed her about keeping her virtue, staying pure, and not giving into the curse. By the time Ana graduated from an all-girls school and finished two years of education at a coed college, she was already well conditioned and focused on her studies. She considered men akin to drugs—something too many people turned to for entertainment or escape, and something she had no desire to try. But that had all changed a few months earlier when Daddy Pritchard was arrested and locked up. Without Daddy Pritchard preaching to her about the curse, it began to flourish, demanding to go unnoticed no longer. Yes, her curse had fully awakened, and it was famished. “I want that one,” Ana announced. “Which one?” Josie gazed down at the cage. “The giant?” she asked, no doubt indicating the six-foot-seven gangly beast in the ring below. “No.” Ana glanced over at the agent. Surely, her friend couldn’t think Ana was attracted to him. Though some other female might find the disproportioned monster an attractive male of the species, Ana did not. Josie scrunched up her nose. “What, you want the little one?” Ana glanced his direction just in time to catch The Kid arching his back to avoid a fatal swing from his opponent. She shot Josie a scrutinizing look. “He's not little. He's at least six-foot- one….” She sighed, shaking her head. “Look at his long diaphysis, and you can clearly see that all of his epiphyses are huge. His carpi, oh—they must be very sturdy too. Did you see how powerful his hits are?” Josie tilted her head. “Ana,” she warned, “we talked about this. No mumbo-jumbo bullshit when we're at these types of functions. Besides, I don’t know what the hell you're talking about.”

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Ana sighed with frustration, well aware that it upset Josie when she drew from her vast textbook knowledge, so she tried to clarify in a way Josie would understand. “His bones are not only long, but they are very big, and—” “See? A big, long bone. Now that's something I can relate to.” The smirk on Josie’s face oozed with sexual innuendo. Ana gave her a disapproving glare. “His carpi, wrist bones that support his fingers, and ulnae, the start of the arm—those are very strong too. He's shorter than the other guy, yes, but between the weight of his bones and his muscle-to-fat ratio, he's definitely better built for battle.” “Oh! So that's why they're in the same category, middleweight? Because although the big guy indeed looks bigger, the little guy weighs the same?” “Exactly. But appearances aside, The Kid is, without a doubt, stronger than the giant.” Ana turned her attention back to the fight. “Are you sure?” Josie paused to watch The Kid run up the cage, spring forward, and in one smooth swipe kick his opponent on the side of his head. “Sure about what?” “Are you sure you want that one? He looks—” “Fearless?” Ana said with a heavy breath, finishing Josie's statement, awed by the skilled fighter’s every move. “Yeah.” “Yes. He's exactly what I’ve been looking for,” Ana confirmed. “So,” Josie said, viewing Ana from the corner of her eye, “I take it you're still going to go through with this, then?” “Absolutely,” Ana said with a confident nod of her head. “I must take care of this curse, and thanks to Daddy Pritchard, I'll be busy for the next two weeks. Time is running short, and I have to get this done. Besides, when I finally get the money he owes me, I'm out of here.” Josie’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know you’ll see a dime of Warren Pritchard’s money? His assets are frozen.” Ana squinted back at her. “Seriously, with all the power, people, and money Daddy Pritchard has in his back pocket, do you actually think he’s not gonna get off on those charges?” 8

Satisfying the Curse Although Josie had only been assigned to Ana for the past six months, she knew the agent was smart enough to figure that one out. “He's in jail right now, isn’t he?” “Yeah, but you wait and see. He'll get off with a slap of the wrist— if that—and when he does, I plan on taking the money he owes me and getting as far away from him as I can. That's why I need to satisfy this curse tonight, so I can put it behind me and move on.” Ana wished her father would rot away in jail but she, too, was intelligent enough to know that wasn’t going to happen. There were too many people on the take, and he had plenty of money to take them with. Josie gazed at her. “You know, as smart as you are, why would you even believe in this bogus curse, this superstitious crap?” “Because, well, because it's real. I can feel it inside me, and it's only getting worse.” “But, Ana, I think—” “No!” Ana shook her head. “Get him for me, Josie. Just do this last thing for me. Please? Get me The Kid.” **** Ryker walked through the narrow corridor that led to the holding cell, where fighters waited before and after competing. His muscles were on fire, but it was a burn he welcomed. He’d started fighting young, at only sixteen. Being one of the youngest competitors at the time, he was dubbed The Kid. Johnny, his friend and the owner of The Final Round, only agreed to let him participate in the night’s match if he fought under that name. Johnny and Ryker went way back, to when Ryker was a different person, wild and undisciplined and not interested in paying attention to rules, in the cage or out of it. Ryker turned the corner and saw someone leaning against the door he was about to enter. A petite blonde with breasts the size of melons and a waist he could easily grasp in the circumference of one of his large hands. It'd been a while since he’d been with a groupie. He'd almost forgotten this particular perk of the fighting life, but it had once been familiar. Not only did he get to release some tension, his cock was usually rewarded with a release of its 9

own. He’d learned that chicks dig fighters, especially the MMA ones who combat in nothing more than their jock straps and shorts with only their fists and bodies for weapons. It was raw fighting, with little need for rules, which was why Ryker—and those hot and bothered chicks in the audience—had found it so alluring. “Hey,” he said with a nod. The cute blonde grinned at him with an expression he’d seen many times before, that I’m-yours, hungry kind of smile. “Hi,” she chirped, batting the lashes of her big blue eyes. It had been a few months since Ryker got laid. He found himself instantly fantasizing about turning that chirp into a throaty moan. “I'm Mindy,” she sweetly said. Of course you are, Ryker thought, a cute name that fit her perfectly. “Well, Mindy,” he said, scrolling his haze over her body like a Rottweiler examining a steak. She was dressed in a tank-top that was three sizes too small and a white mini-skirt that was even smaller. She had groupie written all over her, but he wasn’t looking for any long-term relationship. He needed to get laid, so little Miss Mindy would do just fine. He placed his hand on the wall, trapping her. “And just what are you doing outside my door, Mindy?” he breathed into her ear, so close his lips almost grazed her cheek. “I— I—” She gulped. He knew his closeness was intimidating her, but if she couldn’t handle this measly challenge she would be no good to him in bed. Her lids lowered for a second, and then she looked back up at him, obviously having found her strength. “I just thought”—she pouted her luscious pink lips, and her voice became husky—”I thought maybe you'd want to get a drink with me.” Ryker grinned. She'll do. “Meet me down the street in a halfhour,” he said, “at McMullen's.” And then he withdrew from her. Mindy offered him a most seductive smile with those lips he hoped to get between, and went on her way. The click-clack of her heels against the concrete floor slowly drifted from his ears as he went into the room. The room was nothing more than four walls, a massage table, a fridge stocked with refreshments, and the mirror that many of the fighters stood in front of to psych themselves out before going into 10

Satisfying the Curse the cage. Ryker passed the mirror without a glance and opened the fridge. Well, at least the last guy left me one bottle of water. He snagged it, cracked the cap open, and downed it. He tore the bloody, scuffed-up tape off his hands, put on his sneakers, and flung his gym bag over his shoulder. He caught a whiff of his sweat and realized it was a good thing his hotel was right across the street. He wasn’t about to go see Mindy without a proper shower. **** It was dark. He was groggy. His body was heavy and exhausted. Something sweet, like the scent of lavender and pumpkin pie, wafted to Ryker's nose, and he couldn’t help but inhale deeply to take in more of the arousing aroma. It almost soothed the throbbing in his head. He went to lift his hand to massage the pulsating ache, but a strong bond stopped his wrists. He tried to open his weighty lids. The light stung his eyes. It took a few minutes before his eyes adjusted, and finally, he saw her, a woman standing in the room across from him, dressed like she was going to a masquerade ball. The little black feathers didn’t hide the bright green eyes peering back at him through the mask. Her hair was dark, with auburn highlights, and it was unruly, long, and tousled, but in a most alluring way. He scanned her tall, slender body, covered only by a thin, black, silky dress. It was like a lingerie teaser on the cover of Playboy, something to lure you to buy the magazine so you could see the nude centerfolds. Green eyes and dark hair? Well, she was not little Miss Mindy, he thought, imagining the sexy little blueeyed blonde sitting at the bar still waiting for him, thinking she’d been stood up. He tried to sit upright, but all of his extremities were pinned down. When he realized he couldn’t move, he looked to his feet, then quickly to his hands. They were circled by leather straps, and a sheet was draped over the lower half of his body. He wiggled, and damn it, his bare ass slid against the mattress. What the hell? He was tied to a bed, naked, and he had no idea how he’d gotten there. The last thing he remembered was going back to his hotel room for a shower. He’d been jetlagged and exhausted from the fight. He remembered sitting on a chair for a second to take a rest and—Wait! Had she drugged him? Is that where his headache was coming 11

from? The fogginess? The water bottle? Ryker recalled there was only one in the fridge, so he’d had to take that one. It must have been meant for him. Son of a fucking bitch! “Don't be afraid.” The woman’s voice was low and provocative. Ryker scowled at her. “Afraid? I'm not afraid,” he snapped. Pissed, he thought, but not afraid. “It's a natural reaction. You're vulnerable right now, and vulnerability comes from being unable to protect yourself.” She took a few steps toward him. “But do you know what you're trying to protect yourself from?” She stopped beside the bed and tapped her finger against the leather restraint on his wrist. “You're afraid because you fear what we all fear—pain. But I'm not going to hurt you.” Ryker suspiciously examined her, trying to figure out who the hell she was. Putting a good face on, he chuckled. “See, you've got me confused with the general population. It takes a lot more than some chick tying me to a bed to scare me, and as for pain—” He sneered at her, even as he determined that he had no idea who his captor was. “Pain is nothing more than a challenge. I like to defeat challenges.” “Hmm.” She thoughtfully studied him. “After seeing you fight, I'm inclined to believe you.” “You were at the fight?” He asked the question nonchalantly, hiding his confusion. He tried to recall if he’d seen her there, but decided she wasn't exactly the forgettable type. She was definitely not a woman he'd pass by without a second glance, especially since he was a sucker for long legs and auburn hair. The cat-green eyes were enticing too. “Yes. That's why I tied you up. You're very strong.” “Listen, sweetheart—” She raised a finger as if to hush him, and Ryker—strangely enough—found himself hushed, wanting to hear what she had to say. “I want to touch you,” she said. His cock disobediently thumped. She dropped her finger and crossed her arms over her breasts. “With your permission, of course. I have no intentions of raping you, and—” 12

Satisfying the Curse Really? Did she just say that? Ryker snorted at the thought. “Raping me? You fucking drugged me and tied me up!” He shook his wrists. “Doll, if you’re worried about violating my body without my damn permission, I think you’re already guilty.” He was no longer enticed by the idea of her touching him. His libido was silenced by the extreme anger coursing through his body. “Yes. As I said, you are very strong.” “Look, pumpkin—” Pumpkin? Had he really just called her that? Fuck! It was all he could smell. Ryker lifted his chest from the bed, getting as close to her as his restraints would possibly allow. “If you wanted to get laid, all you needed to do was ask,” he seethed, speaking for his cock, though at that moment, anger filled the head connected to his neck. He wasn't a fan of being shackled to a hotel bed, no matter how hot she was. She didn’t even flinch from his aggression, and oddly enough, both his heads were pleased about that. Ryker preferred a woman with a little gumption, and this one clearly had more than her fair share. “I'm not entirely sure I want to have sex with you, and as I was trying to explain to you, that’s why I needed to tie you up.” When the little feline admitted so matter-of-factly that she wasn’t sure she wanted to get laid, both his heads agreed that it came as a disappointment. He settled back on the bed, his body still fatigued from the fight and whatever drug she'd spiked his water with. He inspected her. Was she trying to tell him she’d tied him up for her own safety? It was obvious she didn’t know him, because if she did, she would have known that there was no need for that. His discipline was indestructible. He had needs and urges like everybody else, but he'd never take a woman without her consent. Which was not to say that once consent was established, the woman wouldn’t find herself in a bad way, crying and writhing beneath his relentless body. “If you don’t want to fuck, then what the hell do you want?” She sighed. “As I said, I want to touch you.” Ryker was leery, not sure how to respond. What man wouldn’t want this chick to touch him? Already his cock bellowed to let her do it, but his loss of power was berating him, demanding he regain control over the situation. He wasn’t at all comfortable in the 13

submissive position, something he’d never before experienced, nor wanted to. Now, lying here like a shark without its teeth, he understood why. He needed to regain control while maintaining his strict discipline. That was what he prided himself on. After all, he had to. His blood was contaminated. “Tell you what,” he said, nodding toward her dress. Cuffed or not, it was time for him to grab hold of the reins. “Why don’t you take off that dress and we'll see how my body reacts to you.” He drew his gaze up to her jade eyes. “Then I’ll let you know if you may touch me.” She tilted her head considerately and turned to the door, perhaps thinking of running. He hoped she wouldn’t. He didn’t need to be left in this awkwardly helpless position, still tied to the hotel room bed. Her head slowly twisted back. She moved her hands to the bottom of the thin material and lifted. Ryker held his breath. Beneath that teasing little dress, she wore a black lace push-up bra. A sneak peek of the start of her blushing nipples filled his eyes, but they were quickly drawn down to her flat stomach, where there was a small tattoo with some type of Chinese symbol arced above her belly button. He looked to her panties, which were also skimpy and black. Thump, thump. His cock responded fiercely beneath the sheet, demanding that Ryker allow her to touch him. He glanced down at the lift in the sheet between his legs, and she followed his eyes. She lifted her chin, and a noticeable sly smile turned up the corners of her sweet, plump lips. “It appears your body is reacting appropriately.” He groaned. There was nothing appropriate about getting turned on by a bitch that drugged him and kidnapped him. Ana stood waiting for a response. She was trembling with fear, her own natural reaction considering the situation. Desperately, she tried to coax her body to relax, but it refused to comply. She hid her trepidation the best she could as she gazed at his dark eyes, which were a metallic onyx, black as a starless night. He had looked younger in the cage. Up close, she could see the fine lines around his eyes. He had to be closer to his mid-thirties, but as she’d deciphered earlier, The Kid was indeed a man. She was sure from 14

Satisfying the Curse the way he held that sexy assurance, even bound and captured. The boyish grin was deceiving, but deep in her stomach, she knew he was an experienced man, and that frightened her even more. Why couldn't she have picked a more docile man to satisfy the curse? Of course, a docile man wouldn’t come close to pacifying that tenacious urge. Tying him up had been a wise choice, for she believed him when he told her he wasn’t afraid. He showed no signs of fear. Anger? Yes, at least until she took her dress off. Now he looked thoroughly stimulated, from his dark, smoldering eyes right down to the impressive stir beneath the thin sheet. “Turn around,” he ordered, low and raspy. Ana's legs moved as if piloted by his voice, twisting her body in a full circle. She was aware of what her thong would reveal—her naked ass cheeks. When she came back to face him, the weight of his heavy, improper survey shook her legs. He was tied up, yet she felt him touching her with his reaching, seductive eyes. Her skin rippled with excitement, uncertainty, and want. He held her with that spellbinding gaze. “Get on the bed,” he stipulated. Again pulled by his captivating voice, Ana placed a knee on the bed, followed by the other. She knelt beside him on the mattress and propped her bottom on her heels. “No,” his voice was clipped. She jumped. “Straddle me,” he said sternly. What? Straddle him? Like a horse? Okay— Ana lifted her shaky leg and shifted over him, reminding herself that the wild stallion was controlled, all harnessed and bridled. This was what she required, what the curse demanded. She lowered onto his thick, sturdy thighs. His eyes narrowed with dissatisfaction. “Slide forward.” A need to please him overcame her. She moved her quivering body up an inch. “A little more,” he cajoled. Once more, she obeyed and glided forward. “That's it. Now, get up on me so you can feel my reaction.”

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His deep tenor inspired Ana to scoot on her knees, and the stiffness between his legs pressed into her tender flesh. She gasped, a mixture of air and a sound that could have been a moan or a desperate cry. He smiled, as if he was pleased with himself to see her wrestle against the exotic hardness piercing her womanly soft tissue, awakening it. She gazed down at him. He was exquisite. His physique and stamina were those of a fearless warrior, an enslaved and vindictive gladiator ready to conquer his rival. At that moment, Ana realized she was that rival, and her skillful opponent would stop at nothing to win, to survive. The steely armor stabbing the well-guarded place between her thighs was a weapon to fear, one for which she had no defense. Hypnotized by his domination, her hand came up. She longed to touch his stringent but handsome face. When her fingers brushed back the strands of hair from his forehead, his eye twitched, causing a fracture in his robust composure. She trailed along his strong cheekbone and veered to his ear. She captured his earlobe between her fingers and gave it a few strokes. Whack! His weapon beat against her pulsating flesh, but that time, she was able to stop the whimper that was about to escape her throat. Searching his black, vacant eyes, she leaned in toward him, closer to his mouth, craving to experience his lips. Her stomach tightened. Almost there— “Stop!” he ordered. Ana froze. “You can touch my body, but you may not kiss me,” he coolly informed her. Disappointment suspended her body over his. Not allowing her to kiss him was like offering a fire without the heat. Ana wanted the damn heat. She needed to know what his lips felt like and how they tasted. “Why can't I kiss you?” He stared at her, studied her, making Ana even more nervous. “Because it’s obviously what you want,” he finally said, “and why should I succumb to your every desire? You've drugged me and are holding me captive. Although I can't deny my response to your temptation, intrigued or not, I can still maintain some kind of

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Satisfying the Curse control. So, feel free to touch me all you want. My body is all yours to do as wish, but don’t kiss me.” With a muted pout, Ana swayed back against his rock-hard impression. Fine. If he wasn’t going to allow her to kiss him, she would take the liberty to explore his impressive body. Wasn’t that part of the reason she'd gone through all this? She stretched out her hands and touched his wrists, then slid her fingers down the length of his impressive biceps. She ran her finger along the tattoos that outlined his veins on his left arm. She traveled over his chest and drew a line until her finger hit the sheet. Anxious, she flashed a look up at him. Did he notice her hesitation? She worried he had. He raised an interrogative eyebrow. “Well, baby doll, looks like you may have to scoot your ass back and pull down that sheet.” He smiled. “You do want to continue with your little venture,” he taunted, inclining his head slightly. “Don’t you?” Composed, he waited like a wild beast about to strike its prey. But she knew this beast wasn’t going anywhere. Concern dismissed, not decamping from his hungry and intent eyes, she shifted back. She felt the remarkable length of him sliding along her again. Her fingers pinched the sheet, and this time both his taunting eyebrows lifted as she pulled it back. She couldn’t ignore the spring of his manhood. Her eyes snapped instinctively down to it. His blatant, aggressive, magnificent arousal took her breath away. She'd seen a penis before, of course, but his was exquisite, just like the rest of him. Really, she wouldn’t have expected anything less. “Now,” he said, rousing her attention to his heated gaze. “That?” he drawled. She followed his eyes back to his erection. “That is something you have permission to touch.” Apprehension took over. Ana sat immobile. She'd never touched a man's penis, and truth be told, she wasn’t sure what to do with it. Sure, she'd read books on fornication and studied porno films, but sex was what the curse wanted. Up to that point, Ana had refused to surrender to the curse her mother passed down to her, and she wouldn't allow herself to become the wanton her mother had been.

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Daddy Pritchard had also seen to it she wouldn’t have the opportunity to satisfy the curse. Her hesitance must have become apparent. His brows gathered together and then slanted into a quizzical glare. “You do want to touch that, right, sweetheart?” “Yes.” The answer slithered from her shallow breath. “Oh, yes! I want to touch you there,” she said, trying to convince not only him, but also herself. “Then wrap your hand around me,” he commanded. Ana was thankful for the hint of authority in his tone. It reinforced her urge to comply. With a shaky hand, she reached out and enveloped the torrid extension with her fingers. Holding the firm flesh in her grip, she was amazed by its strength and height. She gasped. “It feels so— so powerful,” she exclaimed. He smiled down at her, and a short chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. “Oh, you have no fucking idea how powerful it can be, Princess.” Ana caught the flicker of fire in his black eyes. “Stroke me,” he huskily said. The urgency in his voice shook the reluctance right from her. Stroking? Up and down? How difficult can that be? Okay. I can do that. His tight, smooth flesh slid along her hands. Powerful was an understatement. The appendage was dominant. It compelled her. The feel of him in her hands sent a rush of scorching liquid to the apex of her legs. Her vagina started to throb, an awkward tug on the verge of being painful. When she looked up at him, she noticed he also appeared to be in pain. The corners of his lips were pulled tight, and his eyes were closed. Worried, her hand stilled. “Am I hurting you?” His eyes shot open, as if in shock from the question. “What?” “You—you look like you're in pain.” “Yeah, I'm in pain,” he growled, “but if you stop, it's only going to get worse.” “So you want me to keep stroking you?” “No.” With propositioning eyes, he said, “I want you to put your lips around it.”

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Satisfying the Curse Now, Ana knew what that was. A blow job. She'd always imagined oral sex to be repulsive, but for some reason, she wanted to please him and was curious what it would feel like, what it would taste like to have him in her mouth. She leaned down and squeezed his shaft in her hand. His eyes became glossy and hooded as he watched her lick her lips and slip them cautiously over his tip. Ana ran her tongue along his frenulum band and glans, which she knew were the most sensitive parts of a man's penis. His lowpitched moan erupted in her ears, and that sound inspired her to take more of him into her mouth, to further devour his veined shaft. He flexed his hips and thrust forward, gagging her. After a few minutes, he said, “All right.” He took a deep breath. “That's enough,” he grunted. She pulled her lips from his penis and glanced up at him. His forehead was wrinkled, and his teeth were clenched, and he appeared stressed. “You've gotta take those panties off and get on top of me now,” he said. “You want to— to have sex?” Ana wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. After all, she'd just started to get comfortable having his penis in her mouth, but now he wanted to put it inside her. Technically, it would be Ana putting him inside her because he was tied up. She shook her head. The mechanics really didn’t matter here, she told herself. The end product would still be the same. She would no longer be a virgin. “Yes. I mean, really, isn’t that why you tied me to the bed?” “I told you. You're strong, and I wanted to—” “Yeah, yeah—to touch me. What did you think all that touching was going to lead to? A damn tea party in the park?” “Um… uh… I'm not sure if I want to have sex with you, or even tea, for that matter.” “Let me go.” He shook his wrists. “If you untie me, believe me, I'll make you sure.” “No!” He was dangerous enough with his sexy smile, seductive eyes, and rampant body. The thought of what his free hands might do to her body terrified Ana. “Well, then, be a good girl and take care of the problem you created here. Get my bag,” he said, nodding to a duffle bag in the far 19

right corner of the room. “In the inside pocket there's a condom. Get it.” She got off the bed and went to obey his command. Wait. Am I really ready to lose my virginity to this man? She knelt down and unzipped the bag, and all the while, her heart was racing. She found the condom and returned to the bed. She stared at him, fighting her hesitance. “Get back up here with me,” he said. That command was all she needed, and she quickly resumed her position on his thighs. “Open it.” Ana tore the foil until it ripped apart. “Now,” he said, looking at her and not releasing his hold, “put it on me.” Ana pulled out the rubbery ring. She inspected the thing and wondered how she was supposed to put it on him. She pushed her finger through the center, and when it stretched out, she decided to try and shake it. “What are you doing?” Ana looked up at him. “I'm trying to get it to unfold so I can put it on you.” “That's not how you do it,” he said. “Place it on my head.” Ana took the end of the rubber and did as he said. “Now, roll it down over me.” “Ah—” Ana easily slid it over his length. “Oh, I get it,” she exclaimed. He cocked his head to the side. “Haven't you ever done this before?” Ana felt her eyes almost pop out of her head. His brows knitted in a look of confusion or caution, though she couldn’t tell which. “Wait.” He looked at her with suspicion. “Fuck!” His hips jolted forward. “Get off me! Get the hell off me!” His hips jerked up and down. “I-said-get-the-fuck-off-me!” he shouted between each forceful thrust. Shocked by his outburst, Ana jumped up from the bed. “Eu nu fac sex cu virgine!” The strange sounds came sharp and quick from his mouth. 20

Satisfying the Curse Ana couldn't figure out what language he was speaking. Latin? Slavic? What the hell? She'd never heard the language before, and she had no idea what he was saying to her. Dumbfounded, she stood speechless, staring at him. “I don’t fuck virgins,” he seethed. “Do you hear me?” Like a spotlight shining on her, and her exposed secret, her body shut down. Assuming that's what he had said in that strange tongue, Ana became ashamed of her wanton actions and lowered her head in humility. “Now, get me out of these things.” Growling, he frantically shook his arms. Humiliated by his discovery, Ana walked over to the dresser. She needed to get out of here. Her entire careful plot was foiled by her own inexperience. She had been uncertain if she was even going to go through with it and have sex with him, but that choice no longer existed. The Kid was the perfect specimen, and she knew he'd satisfy the curse. She withdrew the needle from her purse and turned around. “Oh, no way!” He gave his head two short shakes. “You're not sticking that damn thing in me.” “I apologize, but I must. You know I can't untie you. You're obviously upset, and—” “Upset? I'm not upset! I'm fucking pissed!” “Exactly, so I can't trust you not to retaliate.” She walked over to him and saw the rage blistering in his dark eyes. “Now,” she said, placing her hand on his thigh, “don’t move.” She gave him a look. “If you jerk away, the needle will break, and I can guarantee you that will not feel good.” And then she injected the drug into one of his thick muscles.

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Chapter Two Ana ran to the elevator. She sprinted up two flights, exited at the sixth floor and down the hall, slid her keycard through the slot and rushed inside, slamming the door behind her. She sank into the security of the closed space, her heart galloping beneath her ribs. When she looked up, she saw Josie staring at her. “So?” She smirked at Ana. “Did you take care of that pesky curse?” she teased. Fisting her hands on her thighs, Ana glared at her. Through her panting, she answered, “No.” She gulped in a much-needed breath. “I made it worse!” Josie laughed and set down the book she'd been reading. “Worse? How so?” “Oh Josie, it was crazy! My bartholin glands were secreting a copious amount of lubrication, and—” Josie put up a hand. “Stop!” She shook her head and grimaced. “You mean you were wet?” “Oh, yes! Wet!” Ana said, aghast. “I was very wet indeed—so wet I think I ruined my panties. I'll never be able to wear them again. I could feel my vagina stretching. Did you know normally it's only four inches long?” Ana gasped. “And my cervix! Damn, it was contracting. Hmm. That's where the pain was coming from,” she mused. “Well, it didn’t really hurt. I guess it kind of felt good, but—” “Sweetie, please don’t tell me you talked to him like that,” Josie implored. “Are you kidding? He had me so discombobulated I couldn’t think. He told me what to do, instructed me like I’m some child! ‘Sit on me. Stroke me. Put your lips around it’. It was maddening and embarrassing!” Josie's brow lifted. “Put your lips around it?” “Oh yeah! He wouldn’t let me kiss his mouth, but he had no problem with me kissing his penis.” Ana realized she had secretly enjoyed the dirty little act. 22

Satisfying the Curse “Really?” Josie said, clearly having a hard time getting the words out. “And you couldn’t satisfy the curse?” “I'm still a virgin.” Ana resented Josie’s amused reaction to her disaster. “You mean he— he—” Josie broke out into a full-fledged belly laugh. “He didn’t instruct you how to cure it?” “No!” Ana stood up, her breathing back to normal. “He said he doesn’t fuck virgins.” Josie sobered, and her face skewed. “You told him you are a virgin?” “I didn’t have to. I couldn’t figure out how to put the condom on him, so he just assumed—” “Oh, sweetie!” Josie busted into another stream of giggles. “I'm sorry, but I can only imagine what happened to you in that hotel room, and—” She dragged some air in between a chuckle. “It must have been horrible,” she said, choking back another chortle. “It was! And now I want more, and with him, not just anyone. This is terrible. What am I going to do?” Ana paced back and forth. “Tomorrow you're leaving me, and I'll have a new agent assigned to me. Everything is so screwed up. What if the new agent doesn’t get me like you do, Josie?” Josie got up from the chair. “Sweetie, relax,” she said, placing her hand on Ana's shoulder. For her whole life, Ana had gone without the motherly affection Josie offered her. That was the main reason why Josie was so important to her. Granted, Josie was only a few years older, but she was tolerant. Ana knew people often wrote her off for her big words and textbook reflections, but not Josie. On the contrary, Josie had actually worked with her on reducing those peculiar little flare-ups. “You'll be fine, Ana.” She smiled. “Besides, in a couple of weeks, you'll be free of Warren Pritchard, remember? Free to do whatever you want. Concentrate on that for now, okay?” “Okay.” Ana sighed. Josie was right, as usual. In no time, she'd be able to live her life without Daddy Pritchard dictating her every move. Ana planned to do what Daddy Pritchard asked of her for the next two weeks and then take the money promised to her. That money would be seed 23

money for a new life, a life of her own. And as for that blasted curse, it had lain dormant for twenty-six years, so what were a few more weeks? She tried to convince herself, but she had a doomed feeling that the damn curse had gotten a taste of freedom, courtesy of The Kid, and now it was going to be difficult to cage it back up. She wondered if there was a workshop or a class she could take to assist her in breaking the curse, that being her normal routine when she wanted to learn something new. Ana sensed that this time, though, no amount of education was going to rid her of the thing. The curse wasn’t going to go away until it was satisfied, and she had a notion the man she'd left tied up in the room would be the only one who could satisfy it. **** Pulling into the empty parking lot of the Kansas Museum, Ryker understood why the National Elite Security Agency (NESA), his employer, had chosen this site for the pick-up. The museum was closed and the lot was empty. He parked the motorcycle Johnny had lent him for his two-day stay in Topeka. Ryker shut down the engine, slouched back in the seat, and waited. When he awoke that morning he’d still been a bit groggy, but he hadn’t forgotten his nighttime visitor. It boggled his brain for the half-hour he lay in bed, trying to recuperate from the double dose of whatever the bitch had given him. Ryker didn’t think she had anything to do with the job he'd just finished, bringing down the Martinellis’ art smuggling ring. Even if he had been made, he was sure they wouldn’t have sent some virginal female to do the job. If the Martinellis discovered it was Ryker who’d exposed their lucrative trade, they’d send some big goons to get the job done, and they’d have left him for dead, not naked in his bed with a raging hard-on. Either way, he was glad to be off that case. The Armani suits, stuck-up bitches, and high-class art galleries had been taxing. He was more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans. That, coupled with Johnny’s generosity in lending him the bike and allowing him to jump in on the prior night’s fight, had left him pretty content. All he’d really needed was to get laid, but that was rendered impossible by the virgin who drugged him and tied him up. 24

Satisfying the Curse He loathed rich bitches and tolerated sexy, self-centered females, but when it came to virgins, he feared them. Being the living product of a virgin and a rapist will do that to a guy. Ryker had never met his father and didn’t even know the man’s name, but he could almost feel the man’s blood boiling in his own veins. Being the spawn of a rapist, Ryker vowed never to take a virgin. He acknowledged his potent sex drive, but prided himself on his discipline. No meant no, in his opinion, and no matter how hot the sexual interlude, if that little word “no” fell from a woman’s lips, he was up and outta there, hard-on, blue balls and all. Shit, truthfully he hadn’t thought it possible a virgin would come onto him in his mid-thirties. He was interested in woman, not girls. He hadn’t had to face his virgin-phobia for years. His mother couldn't look at him without seeing the face of the man who had raped her, and she’d made no effort to hide her hatred of Ryker either, until at the young age of twenty-five she drank herself to death. He was five years old when his Aunt Janie gained full custody of him. Aunt Janie had raised him, and he felt she’d saved his life. He loved her, and for all intents and purposes, she was his mother. When Aunt Janie was murdered a little over a decade ago, Ryker went on a rampage. He knew who killed her, all the evidence pointed to the son-of-a-bitch, but it was not legally substantial enough to charge and hold him. Not until a few months back, when Detective Dillinger informed him the police finally had a break in the case. The trial was to start in two weeks, as Ryker told his boss, Nancy Reich, when she assigned him to his next case. She promised he'd be back in time. Detective Dillinger said the new evidence faced just one problem. The son-of-a-bitch had an alibi for the day of the murder. That alibi was his kid, and they hoped to re-interview the kid before the trial. Ryker tried to get info on the kid, but the detective wouldn’t give him the name. He didn’t want Ryker to fuck up the case. Smart move, Ryker thought. Dillinger promised to keep Ryker updated, but he hadn't heard anything from the detective in a few weeks. He assumed things weren't looking too good. No news was not always good news. 25

A black Lincoln Town Car pulled into the parking lot, freeing Ryker from all the bullshit of his childhood, his contaminated blood, and the painful thoughts of Aunt Janie’s end. Whoever it was pulled up 100 feet behind where he was sitting on the bike. A woman got out. She had blonde, shoulder-length hair and was average height with a tight little swimmer’s body. She looked like she could kick some ass. She stopped in front of him. Ryker pulled off the helmet and shook his head. When he looked at the woman, her face twisted. She gasped, “You!” “Uh— Yeah, me.” What the hell is her problem? Ryker had never seen the woman before in his life. “I'm Agent Ryker, and you are?” “Agent Deetz. Josie Deetz,” she murmured dazedly as her eyes searched his face. The whole thing was making him uncomfortable, and Ryker rarely encountered such a feeling. “Got your credentials on you?” she asked, still staring at him with what appeared to be astonishment. “Shit!” Irritated, Ryker stood up and, straddling the bike, eyed her incredulously. “Really?” He didn't like the way she’d ogled him, and now she was questioning who the hell he was. “Who else would be meeting you here?” he grumbled, pulling his NESA identification from his wallet and handing it to her. She studied it and gave a tense glance over to the car. “Okay.” She sighed and handed his I.D. back to him. “Assignment’s name is Juliana Pratt.” “Assignment? Juliana Pratt?” Suddenly, Ryker was the tense one. “Don't tell me I'm babysitting some rich bitch.” “Hey! Watch it, buddy. I've been assigned to this case for the past six months, and it's nowhere near a babysitting job. She's already had two attempts on her life.” “Who the hell is she?” “It's all in the file.” She revealed the folder in her hand. “All you need to do is get her safely from here to Virginia— and, well, there are a few stops along the way.” Virginia? All right. That’s where he needed to be in a couple of weeks. He started to calm down. “Stops where?” he asked. 26

Satisfying the Curse “Talk shows, television stations—” “What the hell!” Ryker didn’t like the sound of it already. “Why'd Nancy Reich assign me to this bullshit?” he mumbled, more to himself than to her. “Look, I don’t know what your fucking problem is or what kind of cases you're used to, but this woman’s life is on the line.” Agent Deetz darted him a threatening glare. “You’d better be sure you keep her safe.” “Yeah, yeah.” Ryker simmered. He knew he was being an ass of massive proportions, but he was truly upset that Nancy had given him such a shitty assignment. As far as he was concerned, he’d already served his time doing meaningless grunt work and was through being a glorified bodyguard. His last five jobs had been intense and dangerous, requiring him to go undercover. He had operated under life-threatening situations and found that a rewarding experience. But now this? What kind of a demotion is this? It isn’t what I signed on for. “How's your patience, Agent Ryker?” He threw the little tomboy-looking chick a wayward look. “Plentiful,” he answered pointedly, making sure she knew he was talking about her. “Good, because you’re going to need it. Ana can be a little difficult, and she's a tad, uh… um… I guess you could call it ‘eccentric’.” “I thought you said her name is Juliana?” “She likes to be called Ana for short.” Josie glanced again at the car behind him. “Here.” She reached into her pocket and tossed an electronic device at him. “You're going to need this. It's synced to her iTouch, and she doesn’t go anywhere without that.” He grabbed the device and looked it over. “A GPS?” “Yeah.” She smirked. “So you are now officially taking over the case, correct?” Ryker nodded. It wasn’t like he had a fucking choice. “Okay. Well, you may want to sync that thing then.” She tilted her head at the device in his hand. His tolerance for the agent was growing thin. In fact, he was downright fed up. He scowled at her. Then she nodded toward the 27

car and Ryker glanced over his shoulder. “What the fuck! It’s—it’s gone!” He snapped his head back to the agent, “When the hell?” he snarled as he put his helmet on. “You left the keys in the car? What the fu—?” “No. She's very resourceful. I bet she Googled how to hotwire a car.” Ryker revved the cycle, activated the GPS, and gave the agent a vicious glare before he skidded out of the parking lot as fast as two wheels could carry him. **** Yet again, the trusty how-to website had come in handy! The foreign wires were easier to figure out than Ana had anticipated, though she did break two fingernails stripping the wires to entwine them. She gave the rearview mirror a glance and saw no one following her. She drove around the unfamiliar area for a few minutes until she found a semi-deserted street that led to an alley. She pulled into the deserted pathway and positioned her car between two other vehicles. In no mood to further damage her manicure, she left the car idling and decided to wait it out, hoping her newly assigned agent, that large and robust human being straddling the motorcycle with his back to her, would be long gone by the time she headed back out onto the streets. Why couldn’t her new agent be female? The all-girl schools she’d attended hadn't offered any education on dealing with the male of the species, and she was pretty sure there wasn’t a trusty little howto webpage for that. She knew she shouldn't be intimidated by the sight of the agent who was supposed to protect her, but after the way she’d botched up the events of the night before, her instincts told her to run. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been around men. She had experience dealing with them during her last two years of college. Most of the men she knew in medical school had a special kind of selfassurance. Not that this was a bad thing, doctors needed to be confident. The problem was that along with self-assured came cocky. Luckily, those boys struggling to become men were like her, too busy with their studies for their arrogance to shine at its worst,

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Satisfying the Curse but it was there and she could tell they’d take it off hold once they were full-fledged doctors. The only man Ana felt comfortable around was Dr. Shawn Owens. He was different. She'd worked under him while doing her postgraduate residency. He’d offered assistance, but that wasn’t going to happen until Ana could cut the tight ropes Daddy Pritchard had on her. Dr. Owens had fair skin and hair, and his manners were even fairer. His words were soft, and his smiles always melted the receiver with a certain warmth. Although he was only a few years older than Ana, the man was a wealth of medical information, as well as an excellent teacher. He was nothing like the man from the night before, the one who’d instructed her with that deep, demanding voice and nearly bent her to his will with his dark, sexy eyes. Oh God, those eyes! No. She had to stop thinking about him. She wasn’t ever to see The Kid again! Ana retrieved her iTouch and opened the GPS. She punched in Kansas City to find a hotel close to the television station where her first interview was scheduled the next afternoon. The ten minutes of sitting unoccupied in the car bored her to the point of painful, so she killed the time by hopping on the Web to manage her finances. Though, truth was, she had no finances to speak of. In fact, she was broke. Daddy Pritchard was the one with the money, so all she could afford was the seediest of the seedy motels. She pulled back onto the empty street headed toward Kansas City. It took about an hour and a half to get to the motel. She checked in with the few dollars she had on her. She pulled up in front of her room, retrieved her bags from the trunk, and unlocked the gaudy turquoise motel door adorned with several blotches of rust and chipped paint. As she started to step inside, she was abruptly pushed from behind. She fell to her knees from the force of the unexpected shove and dropped her bags. On her hands and knees, she shot a look over her shoulder. There, standing before her with a gun in her face, was a man in his late twenties, a scruffy, burly-looking thing. Not again! When Josie had first been assigned to her, there had been a couple of attempts on Ana's life, but Josie, being the good agent she 29

was, had managed to get her to safety. They never found out who her attackers were or what they wanted, but after that Josie made sure they kept a low profile. That trip to The Final Round to watch The Kid kick a little MMA ass had been Ana's first outing in months. “Pritchard wants to know what you're going to say in the interview,” the man said. She peered up at him, still caught in that ridiculous position on the floor. So, Daddy Pritchard is worried, huh? Ana smiled, imaging her father sitting in his cell freaking out about whether or not she was going to tell the truth. She pulled herself from the floor and stood. “You can tell him—” She paused when she noticed movement behind the man at the open door. As something charged into the room and knocked the man down, she barely had time to dodge out of the way. The gun went spiraling to the floor. The two men rolled together in a struggle, but it was clear the newcomer had overpowered her attacker. Whoever he was, he had the smaller man pinned to the floor. From behind, her rescuer looked like the agent from the museum, and Ana was glad he had found her. The agent clasped his large hand around her attacker's wrists, jerked him to his feet, and directed him to the bed. He gave the headboard a good shake, perhaps checking to see how sturdy it was, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. His back still to Ana, he announced, “I'm Agent T. Ryker.” There was a hint of irritation in his husky voice, no doubt at her escape from the museum. He finished securing the man to the post and turned around. Every neuron in her body zapped to the haunting memories of the night before. The feel of his strong body beneath her hands, the arrogance in his words, and the dominance in his black eyes. Yes, it was most definitely The Kid. “You!” His forehead wrinkled, and his face scrunched up like he’d just caught a whiff of rotting fish. “Yeah—me,” he retorted. “Why the hell does everyone keep saying that?” “You're—you work for NESA?” How can this be? What’s going on? Doesn’t he recognize me? Ana stood dumbfounded as her nerves continued to recap the memories of his naked body, his

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Satisfying the Curse potent manhood, and his powerful essence. Once more, he had her all discombobulated, and he didn’t even seem aware of it. “Yes, I work for NESA.” He took a step, maneuvering all his immense power closer to her. “I've been assigned to take you where you need to go for the next two weeks, but first I need to call this in, and then we'll deal with your little stunt of taking off on me.” He pulled his cell from his pocket and rapidly punched in a few numbers. “Nancy Reich,” he snapped into the phone, and then he waited for her to come to the phone, whoever she was. Questions ran through Ana's brain one after another. Did Josie know The Kid was going to be assigned to me? Did this Agent T. Ryker—? What does the T. stand for? Does he recognize me? Why was he in an MMA fight if he works for NESA? While the multitude of questions swam through her head, she became sure of one thing from the way he was peering at her. The agent did not recognize her. Or if he did, he was hiding it well. “Hey, Nancy. I have Juliana Pratt. We’re at The Rest Easy motel off Route 70 in Kansas City. Yeah, that’s the one. A real classy place,” he said, looking around the lackluster room with a nearscowl on his face. “Anyway, I need someone to come out here and take care of an assailant who tried to attack my assignment. Oh, and can you have someone check in on Josie Deetz?” he said. Ana's heart started to race. “Josie is in danger? You don’t think anything has happened to her, do you?” Agent T. Ryker's impatient look rendered her silent. “I need the file on Juliana Pratt sent to me right away.” His lips thinned as he paused, listening on the line. “I know Agent Deetz had it, but my assignment,” he continued, darting Ana an aggravated, disapproving dig, “she, uh, made it difficult for me to complete the transaction with the agent. I'll explain later. Okay. Got it. I'll call Bucky when we reach a secure location.” He ended the call. “Is Josie all right?” Ana asked, refusing to ignore the issue. “I don’t know.” “What do you mean you don’t know! What kind of operation is this? Aren’t you people supposed to keep tabs on your agents?” “Obviously your location in this damn roach motel has been compromised. Whoever’s after you must have tracked you down.” 31

Agent T. Ryker gazed over at the man cuffed to the rickety bed. “Who sent you?” he demanded in a most unforgiving tone. The man stared blankly back at him, and Ana could tell he wasn’t about to talk. Surprisingly, the agent didn’t put any further effort into getting him to. Ana knew who’d sent the guy, but she wasn’t about to offer that information to Agent T. Ryker. Before she spilled her guts about anything, she needed to complete the task Daddy Pritchard had requested. After all, she needed Daddy’s money or she’d have to spend her life cleaning damn sleazy hotels, not just sleeping in them. She was certain Daddy Pritchard had sent the man to scare her into abiding by their agreement. Agent T. Ryker turned back to her. “Have you recently shown anyone your I.D.? Your driver’s license? Have you used a credit card anywhere?” She felt her eyes widen knew she looked like a kid caught with the cookie jar. “Your credit card,” he deduced. “Why the hell did you do a stupid thing like that? I'm sure Agent Deetz explained the rules. What was so important that you—Wait. Let me guess. You needed to get your hair done? Or there was some slinky little black dress you simply couldn’t pass up? Explain to me what could possibly be so important that you used a credit card when you're being followed.” Ana scowled at him but kept her mouth clamped shut. There was no way she was going to tell him that the credit card transaction was, in fact, to place an order for porno. She’d been trying to educate herself before she attempted to seduce him. As much as she loved to devour books and wikis, all the reading in the world couldn’t compare to a visual education. But the porno had been utterly tasteless—as so many tended to be—and clearly it had failed to prepare her for her interlude with The Kid, a.k.a. Agent T. Ryker. He shook his head. “Shit, it doesn’t matter.” He took an intimidating step forward and grabbed her by the arm. “But now we gotta get you out of here in case your buddy has any friends lurking close by,” he told her with that take-charge attitude he'd shown off the night before. He escorted her out the door, picking up her bags along the way.

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Satisfying the Curse That single touch to her arm sent her nerves into a frenzy. While he had been tied securely to the bed, Ana had wondered what it would feel like to be touched by him, but she wasn’t prepared for the immediate flood of hormones that came from the simple contact of his skin against hers. She withered beneath his touch, knowing that if those hands ventured anywhere else on her body, it could prove dangerous to her nervous system. Grand mal seizures came to mind. Like fire to a plastic bag, Ana shrank when they went outside and he steered her toward a motorcycle. “I'm not getting on that thing,” she protested. He stopped in front of it and gave her a vexing sideways glare. Nevertheless, Ana was not going to back down. “Did you know for every mile on the road, a motorcycle’s risk of a deadly crash is thirty-five times higher than a car? You’re supposed to protect me, not get my head smashed into oblivion on the asphalt.” “Thirty-five times higher? Hmm. I had no idea,” he jeered. “But see? That's the enticing part,” he leaned close to her. “The fun is in the danger, babe.” Ana gulped down her trepidation from his impeding nearness. “I don’t find that enticing, and I refuse to ride on that thing.” At last finding her bravura, she defiantly crossed her arms over her chest. “And what gives you the right to call me ‘babe’?” He stared at her with an unreadable expression. “Fine,” he finally said. “Get that car going again, and we won't need to take the bike.” “What? Are you telling me you don’t know how to hotwire a car,” she sneered. “Isn’t that part of NESA training?” “Sure, I know how,” he responded as he started toward the Town Car, “but I think it'll be a little more fun watching you try, babe.”

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Chapter Three Ryker charged the hotel room to an untraceable account and took his keycard from the desk clerk, all the while with Juliana Pratt latched to his arm. He wasn’t about to give the slippery, cunning little minx another opportunity to get away from him. The GPS had led him to the alleyway, where he'd found her vehicle wedged between two other cars. He’d decided to wait it out and let her think she had escaped. That gave him a chance to study his assignment. Up to that point, Ryker had realized two things about her. She was clever and beautiful. At first sight, the tight, perfect bun in her hair, which would have been the envy of any prudish librarian or schoolmarm, had turned him off a little, but when he was able to get a closer look at her while she was hotwiring the car, he’d deduced she was sexy in a prim and proper sort of way. “Let's go,” he said, pulling her through the lobby. As they waited in front of the elevators, she leaned in toward him and whispered, “You didn’t get separate rooms.” “No.” He looked down at her and whispered back, “I didn’t.” “So you plan on sleeping in the same room as me?” He noticed the panic in her eyes. It served her right for fleeing from him at the museum. “Yes,” he said matter-of-factly as the elevator dinged and opened. She followed him in. “Well, I can't have that. It's— well, it’s just not appropriate!” He leaned back against the wall, feeling the vibration of the moving car, and examined her. She was tall, and her modest-length gray skirt provided only a glimpse of her toned calves. Her slightly rounded hips were a perfect complement to her thin waist. Her breasts also appeared perfect. His inspection continued to her lips. They looked soft, and her cheekbones were high and strong. Ryker took his first really good look at her eyes. They were dark green, and he assumed their darkness came from her annoyance at having to share a room with him. 34

Satisfying the Curse “I don’t really care what you think about it.” He smiled at her growing anger. “Right now, you're my responsibility. It’s my job to keep you safe. And believe me, doll face, I'll do whatever it takes to get the job done.” Her eyes slanted, and Ryker grinned at her expression. The elevator doors opened. They walked down the hall to their room and he swiped the keycard. “This isn't right. I can’t do this,” she huffed as he opened the door. “What? Are you saying you never shared a room with Agent Deetz while she was assigned to you?” “Yes, but—” “But nothing.” He stepped into the room and turned to her. “Now, get in here and stop carrying on,” he snapped, fed up with her prudish behavior. She stood in the doorway like a stubborn child “I said get your ass in here now!” Her eyes grew big at the minor loss of his temper, but she stood her ground and remained stationary. She was starting to really irritate him. What the fuck was this chick’s problem? Damn NESA for assigning him this stubborn little bitch. He took a deep breath. “Juliana, do you need me to come over there, pick you up, and carry you in here? Because I will if that’s what it takes. Like I said, I get the job done.” She blinked, startled at his brutishness. “No.” She finally passed the threshold. “There. I'm in. Satisfied?” She stalked over to the chair, set her purse on the table, spun around and glared at him. “Look. Just because your testosterone levels are higher than mine and you have a larger muscle mass, that gives you no right to boss me around, you big, over-assertive, mesomorph vertebrate!” “Vertebrate?” He reflected. “Well, at least you realize I’m not spineless,” he said, allowing a smart-aleck chuckle to erupt from his throat. “I'm surprised you even know what that means.” “Yeah, well, I'm not all testosterone and muscles, sweet cheeks. Believe it or not, I am capable of some intellect.”

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“Hmm. I've read the male’s brain is two percent larger than the female’s, but I figured it was all just wasted space.” Not just smart, but a fucking smart-ass. Ryker silently groaned, anticipating a very long and torturous two weeks. “Sorry to disappoint you, honey,” he ground between clenched teeth. “As you should be, Agent T. Ryker.” She sarcastically turned up her lips. “After all, my life is to be entrusted to your capable hands, is it not?” Ryker groaned, and this time it was audible. Fuck! He’d show her exactly how capable his hands could be. “You are an intolerable woman, Juliana Pratt, and if you think I'm going to put up with your attitude for much longer, perhaps it is you who suffers from a lack of intelligence.” “Oh yeah?” She straightened her already stiff back and lifted that little stubborn chin of hers higher in the air. “And what are you going to do to me if I am unable to properly adjust my so-called attitude?” Ryker bent down until he was a mere inch from her face. “ Te pun pe genunchi şi-ţi dau cu palma la fund,” he said in his family's native Romanian tongue. Her perfectly manicured eyebrows dipped in confusion. “What?” His eyes drifted to those soft-looking lips as he repeated, more slowly this time, “Te pun pe genunchi şi-ţi dau cu palma la fund!” He wished he could say it in English, because had she understood what he was saying, her reaction would have been worth its weight in gold. But she was his assignment. He’d already crossed the line by fantasizing about what she might taste like, wanting to know if she was as tart as her attitude and if her lips were as soft as they appeared. She glared at him, mumbled a few inaudible words, and walked over to the table. She riffled through her purse, pulled out her iTouch, and plopped herself down in the chair as if fed up with the whole ordeal. Ryker shrugged, assuming and somewhat hoping the intelligent moppet felt a little intimidated by his foreign words. He wandered over to the bed to check his texts. While he'd been mercilessly toying with his assignment, his phone had been vibrating in his 36

Satisfying the Curse pocket. Just as his ass was about to make contact with the comforter, he was interrupted once again by his job. “You!” Her stern, disciplining voice startled him, and he shot back up to a standing position. Her eyes were huge circles. “You wouldn’t dare!” Confused, he asked, “What the hell are you talking about?” With her face aghast, she jumped to her feet and pointed a chastising finger at him. “A moment ago, those strange words you spoke, you said you would put me over your knee and— and spank me!” Ryker could feel his eyes widening in awe. “How the hell—? Did you just Google that or something?” he asked in utter disbelief. “I most certainly did,” she smugly declared. Clever little vixen. Josie Deetz had tried to warn him that Juliana Pratt was eccentric and was going to be difficult, but now he knew for a fact he'd have to watch himself around her. He lowered himself onto the bed again, his ass making contact this time, all the while applauding her resourceful efforts. He grimaced, though it was directed more at himself, for he knew he was, to put it bluntly, busted. He couldn’t even defend himself. He had spoken the words with his very own mouth. He smiled at her, well aware he was only going to dig a deeper hole. “Keep up the attitude, and I'll follow through with what I said.” “You wouldn’t dare!” she repeated. “Oh, baby doll, I most certainly would. I think if it comes to that, I'll bend you right over this one.” He patted his knee and then raised his other hand and waved it in the air. “And I'll spank you with this one.” She gasped. “Well, I never—” He arched an eyebrow. “What? You've never been spanked? You must be a very good girl then.” He couldn’t help himself. He had to tease her about it, because her reaction was beyond the weight of any amount of gold. Not to mention that actually beating all that prim-and- proper out of her sweet ass would be priceless. “You— you— you uncultivated and impudent barbarian! You— you Vlad Ţepeş!” 37

“Bram Stoker's inspiration for Dracula? The Romanian Prince of Wallachia?” Yet another grin curled his mouth at her display of hot temper and wide knowledge of trivia. “Is that the best you can do, sweetheart?” “Oh!” She stomped a heel on the floor and balled her slender hands into fists. “Stop that! Do not call me names like ‘sweet cheeks,’ ‘sweetheart,’ ‘baby doll,’ or anything else. My name is Ana, not Juliana, and certainly not those other things, you—” He put up a hand. “I get it! Anna.” “No, you buffoon! It is not Anna. It’s Ana, pronounced, like on a— on a boat, on a plane—” “One fish, two fish. Damn, you’ve gone from Bram Stoker to Dr. Seuss,” he jeered, shaking his head. “Oh?” she crossed her arms. “So, you've heard of that author too? Dr. Seuss? Tell me, Agent T. Ryker, have you recently managed to finish one of his books? I am sure that was a great accomplishment for someone of your mental caliber, and I congratulate you.” “As a matter of fact, no, I haven't,” he honestly replied. No one read him bedtime stories when he was a child. The last time he really read anything, other than files and reports for his assignments and the occasional newspaper, he’d been in law school. “But anyway, I think I prefer Juliana,” he said, “so that's what I'll call you.” Dismissing her and the mental image of his hand smacking that fine ass of hers, he turned on his phone to check his texts. “And you may call me Ryker,” he said, not giving her a second glance. **** “You may call me Ryker,” Ana mockingly mumbled between brushes as she took care of her teeth. She found the arrogant, cocky, domineering man to be infuriating, yet undeniably gorgeous. From his frontalis to his thyreohyoides muscles, the man's face was strong but beautiful, any sculpture's dream come true. She had to get past that, past the tight-fighting t-shirt that stretched across his potent pectoral muscles. She had to disregard how well his jeans fit him, that impressive bulge, that thickness collecting at the juncture of his thighs. There was no need for her to imagine what hid behind the denim, for that part of his remarkable anatomy had already been in 38

Satisfying the Curse her mouth. She had experienced a taste of all that power nestled between his legs, and she had taken much pleasure from the act. Sex appeal dripped from his body like warm sap trickling from a maple tree on a hot summer day, and the curse temptingly whispered to her, “Lick his warm, sweet syrup, Ana. You know you want to.” Ana thought she had managed to put her curse to rest, but after lying dormant for over a decade, it was famished. Just a nibble of Agent T. Ryker had tempted the curse's sexual need like the firsttime-in-a-longtime taste of liquor for a recovering alcoholic. It was the curse that inspired her to drug Agent T. Ryker—The Kid, as she knew him at the time—and shackled him to the bed. He was supposed to feed the curse, to satisfy and sedate it. But ultimately, her lack of experience with sex kept her from having any. Now she was just thankful he hadn’t yet recognized her from that encounter. That could really put a strain on these next two weeks, as if there wasn’t enough of one already. She knew Daddy Pritchard would be outraged by her wanton behavior, and if he could have heard her thoughts about Agent T. Ryker, he'd be quick to deem her a whore. Ana had made no real effort to visit Daddy Pritchard in jail, but she had finally succumbed to his appeal two weeks prior and gone to see him. During that rendezvous, her father struck a deal with her—a deal Ana couldn’t resist. She walked out of the bathroom in her tank-top and flannel pajama bottoms. She wished she'd packed a looser top, but the skimpy tanks were all she had to wear to bed. Of course, that was never a problem when she was with Josie. Ryker was a little different in a hot, soaking-her-panties kind of way. The curse wolfed down what it saw when she caught sight of Ryker lounged on the bed, his hand casually propped behind his head. He was shirtless, and his muscles seemed to be gathered and bragging about their very presence, taunting her resolve. He sifted a dark, dwelling gaze over her body, and his survey landed boldly upon her erect nipples. Her breasts were overcome with a deep warmth, and Ana glanced down at them when they tweaked. Then she glared back up 39

at Ryker, who had a smug grin on his face, as if he’d accomplished some great feat. “Don't take it personal, Agent. That is simply the result of my myocytes going to work.” His puzzled eyes snapped up to meet hers. “I'm cold,” she explained. She attempted to stand without embarrassment from the supposed natural reaction to the cool air, trying to dismiss the real reason for her cells going crazy. That blazing hot stare of his. He grinned, baring his gleaming white teeth as though he'd read her mind. She huffed. “Okay. I'm ready,” she said, needing to forgo the impeding curse. It was time to put it to sleep. She had a long day ahead of her. “For?” he asked, obviously unable to read her mind this time. “For bed,” she snidely rejoined. “Duh!” He shrugged. “Okay,” he said, but he made no attempt to remove himself from the bed. “In other words, please move,” she informed. “I'm sleeping on the bed. You’re just the hired help.” He chuckled and released a deep male sound. “If you think I'm going to sleep on the floor or that sorry excuse for a couch over there, sweet pee, you’ve got another think coming. It’s just not going to happen, especially when there's a perfectly fine king-sized bed right here.” He gave the bed a pat, just as he had his knee earlier, and she found this pat just as infuriating. Swoosh! A warm rush of desire swarmed through her. She should have been stunned at his proclamation, or insulted by it. That would have been the appropriate response to his demand to sleep so close to her. She'd never shared a bed with a man. She gasped, more from the heated liquid making its way between her legs than from his suggestion. With pretended horror, she asked, “You want me to sleep on the floor? The couch?” “You are more than welcome to sleep in the bed with me.” He folded his hands in his lap, and her eyes followed them there. “Look at it like an elevator or a car,” he said, calling her attention back to his face. “We're sharing a very small space together for the night.”

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Satisfying the Curse Sure. Of course, to him it was no big deal. But her eager curse went stark-raving mad about the idea. “No!” she reprimanded. But if he wanted to wager, she could at least give the curse something to appease its starved greed. “Okay. I'll allow you to sleep with me on three conditions.” She paused to stomp down her fear. Being timid around a man like Ryker would certainly put her into a treacherous state of affairs, and by the piqued interest and smolder in his awaiting eyes, Ana knew he was intrigued to find out what those conditions were. “First, you stay on your side of the bed. Second, you keep all your clothes on. And third—” She pushed harder to keep her fear at a bay as it yet again reared its ugly head. “Go on.” “Third, you must kiss me.” His head jerked back, and his forehead creased deeply. “Kiss you? Doesn’t that contradict your first two conditions?” His deep, husky voice filtered though the room until it reached her ears and rippled down her back. “In my experience, kissing in a bed usually leads to other things, like people crossing over the lines of their side of the bed and then removing their clothing, only to lead to—” His lips curled into a crooked smile. “Look— all I’m saying is that kissing can get pretty heated, and then you end up breaking all kinds of conditions, little lady.” “Believe me,” she stated with confidence, “I can guarantee that will not happen.” “Oh you can, can you?” he taunted, gazing suspiciously at her. “Then why?” “Why what?” “Why do want me to me kiss you?” To feed the damn curse, of course! To get what he denied her when she I had him tied up! “I want you to use your orbicularis orbis on mine,” she informed him, for it was the truth. More wrinkles crept up his forehead. “My what?” “Your lip muscles,” Ana clarified, scolding herself for not filtering her textbook thoughts. “For a male of the species, your form, muscles, and even your lips are impeccable. Naturally, as a heterosexual female, I'm attracted to you—at least to your body,” 41

she confessed, leaving out the bit about her curse, which was still ruthlessly attacking her. “So instead of lying in bed all night, wondering what your mouth would feel like on mine, I prefer to just get it out of the way. In turn, I expect to get a good night's sleep.” His masculine grunt tickled her insides. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” he derided. “Yes, I do.” “All right, Juliana Pratt.” Just as every other time when he’d said her name, her insides squirmed in reaction. His dark gaze, calm and cool, scanned her jittery body. “I'll kiss you,” he said as a naughty, perceptive grin appeared on his face. He patted the bed with his hand, suggestively beckoning her over, daring her to come closer for the kiss she’d demanded of him. Not giving trepidation a chance to become her friend, she padded over to him. Dredging up her confidence and justification—knowing this was the only way to satisfy the curse—she crawled on the bed and settled beside him. Lying flat on her back, she tensed as his arm came across her body. He didn’t touch her as the curse silently implored, practically begging him to do so. Instead, he simply placed his hand on the mattress close to her side, trapping her. His angelic face was distorted by those dark, seductive eyes. “You sure about this?” he asked as he started to lean closer to her. Oh boy. Here he comes. Ana squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes,” she replied, reassuring herself. She anticipated his fiery touch, but it never came. “Juliana, open your eyes.” His raspy, adamant tone made her cells fire off in every direction. How could a man be so beautiful? Her heart skipped a beat from his intense observation. “When I kiss you—” He stopped and searched her face. “When we kiss, watch my mouth as it comes down to yours,” he said, completing his exploration with a piercing look into her eyes, so hot and smoldering it was as if a fire poker were reaching into the depths of her from his glare. “Okay?” She nodded. At that point, she would have jumped up and recited every bone in the human body. She would have done whatever it 42

Satisfying the Curse took to summon those lips to her own. In a slow, taunting motion, he again bent in closer to her. Ana watched his mouth, just as he ordered. She became restless, feverish, and thirsty. Did he know this was going to happen? Was that why he had her watch his mouth? Instinctively, her tongue slipped out and slid over her lips, and she smoothed them together, readying them for his flesh to touch hers, soft but strong. The other night, when she’d had her hands all over his body, for some reason it couldn’t compete with what that simple union of flesh on flesh had felt like. It blew her textbook mind right off the page. Defining the torrid and sensational feeling would have been impossible for her. Ryker withdrew his warm mouth. Wait! Her heart panicked, for the kiss had ended far too quickly. The curse became angry. It forced itself to the tips of her fingers, itching to touch him, to take him, to have more of him, all of him. She gathered the sheet into her hands to keep them from being influenced by the curse's progressive cravings. She wanted, needed him to do it one more time—to gratify the curse. “Is—was that it?” she whispered. Ryker had wanted to kiss her from the moment she walked out of the bathroom with her long hair flowing over her shoulders, the glow of her revealing naked skin, and those hard little nipples poking through that tank top. Was that it? It sure as hell oughta be. He wasn’t convinced that if he touched that supple mouth of hers against his again, he'd be able to stop. The terms were clear. She wanted only a kiss. This was a job. She was nothing more than an assignment. But no such predicament had presented itself in the past. Never before had Ryker found himself attracted to someone he was supposed to be protecting. While on the job, if he fucked a woman he’d encountered, it was only for the benefit of the job. At the least, it wouldn’t have infringed on his performance or the integrity of the case. As much as he really needed to get laid, Juliana Pratt fell into neither of those categories. In reality, she sat in the wading pool of absolutely off limits. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help staring down at her lush lips, fighting the urge to devour her. 43

His hand came up from the mattress and he slipped it behind her neck until he had a firm, tight grip on her. Smiling, more to himself for what was about to come out of his mouth, he said, “You want me to kiss you again?” Large sparkling green eyes peered up at him, and a nervous but noted desire flickered within them. She gave him a tentative nod. “Where, Juliana?” Her name rolled off his tongue as he stroked her soft skin with his fingers. “Where do you want me to kiss you?” He stretched out his thumb and feathered it across her bottom lip. “Here?” He withdrew from her quivering lip. Her tongue slithered out and touched the spot his thumb had stroked. The action sent a hot rush of blood directly to his hard and aching loins He reacted fast, hard, and mindlessly, capturing her mouth with his. He struck her with quick, demanding kisses, one after another, until they melded together in a sizzling disorder of lips on lips, lustfully wet and utterly intoxicating. Ryker couldn’t remember having been so cock-infused by a mere kiss. His tongue plunged and broke through all that searing heat. Probing, searching, he found hers. His damn cock strained for release beneath his jeans. She was, to put it mildly, revitalizing. He deepened the kiss, darting his tongue repeatedly inside her mouth, unable to get enough of her. She moaned, and as if it was a warning bell, Ryker went rigid. The kiss was getting away from him. The possibility of losing himself to her was imminent and threatening. He dragged his mouth from hers, his breaths erratic and heavy. What the hell was going on here? It wasn’t as if he’d just had the fuck of a lifetime or anything. God, it was just a damn kiss. As he gazed down into her hooded and glistening bedroom eyes, it became harder—literally between his thighs, but even harder to pull away from her. Note to self. This Juliana Pratt is way dangerous in every way. His much-vaunted discipline had been challenged. He was reluctant to let her slip from his grasp. But he was a sap for all things dangerous. Stroking her cheek, he accepted that he wanted Juliana Pratt. He was enticed by her destructive beauty, to the point of forsaking his damn discipline. She was indeed dangerous, rendering him more vulnerable than weapons or fists ever could. 44

Satisfying the Curse She blinked up at him. Her emerald eyes jolted him back to reality. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Now,” she said, “I can go to sleep.” All Ryker's self-possessed stamina drew back from his hot and ready cock. Didn’t she feel that? Wasn’t that kiss mind-blowing to her? Was she really brushing it off, thanking him for quenching her curiosity about— wait, what had she called it? Shit! Lip muscles? Yeah, that was it. Said she wanted to find out what they felt like on her mouth. Hell, he was going to find out if she indeed took any pleasure in their oral collision. “Soooo,” he said, purposely dragging out the word, “it's safe to say you're welcome? You enjoyed my lips—” “Orbicularis orbis,” she promptly corrected, grave and somber as a dull biology professor. “Yes, they were sufficient.” Su-fuckin’-ficient! What the hell? Ryker never settled for sufficient. In his book that was like doing something half-assed. Sufficient? Insulted, he glared at her. She stared blankly back at him and then, as if through with him, pulled the blankets up to her chin. Ready for the challenge, prepared to kiss her again and go from sufficient to having her writhing beneath his experienced touch, ready to impress her, have her moaning in ecstasy, he tried to lean in. She quickly rolled over, offering him her back before he could act on his outrage. On his wounded pride. He sensed a growl brewing. He pushed it to his balled fists. Frustration harbored deep inside him, and it docked there for the remainder of the long and sleepless night.

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Chapter Four A soft thumping echoed in her ear. Ana lay with her eyes closed, listening to it. Thump-thump-thump-thump— The sound was prevalent but lulling. Her hands curled up close to her chest until she was cocooned and comfortable. The steady beat continued. She shifted her hand and opened her palm, and warmth seeped into her flesh. She caressed it with her fingers, and something tickled them. Stroking the velvety surface, she got a whiff of— “Shit! Now, this can't be good, T.” The deep, masculine grumble of words vibrated to her ear, disrupting the soothing thump-thump-thump sound. She froze, realizing her hand was still resting on— Skin? Man skin? Was she lying on Agent T. Ryker? And moreover, was he talking to himself? She shifted her hand north over stout pectoral muscles. Okay, this is not the sheet. Fanning east, a nicely rounded deltoid curved beneath her fingers. Not the mattress either. Back north to a thick trapezius muscle. “If you keep doing that, Juliana—” Her eyes snapped open. Yep! She was lying on Agent T. Ryker. It felt safe, and amazing. All that power had somehow morphed into a pillow of coziness. The thumping faded and she realized she had lifted her head from over his heart. Black, sleepy eyes examined her through heavy lids. “I'll show you what my other muscles are capable of, and I’m not talking about the ones on my lips,” he said, finishing with a lazy smile. She shot up. The warmth from all those muscles cushioning her body just seconds ago was suddenly gone, replaced by a spark of yearning. It was as if a match had been struck. The curse had awakened, and it was on fire. Ryker lifted his arm and casually tucked it behind his head. Crack, ripple, pop! More muscles burst before her eyes. “Good morning,” he said, rousing Ana from her ogle. “Sleep well?” The

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Satisfying the Curse languid intonation in his husky voice snapped her from pacifying the curse with her bold intake of his magnificent body. She scurried to the edge of the bed, berating that blasted curse, and jumped to the floor. It felt good to have her feet on solid ground. Pushing the hair out of her face, she glanced down at him. Damn it! Why did the man have to be so anatomically perfect? “I'm s-sorry,” she stammered. For using him like a shock-absorbing hammock. “I don't know how I ended up—” He arched a brow. A wicked grin licked his mouth. “On top of me?” “Yes.” She tugged on her constricting tank-top and straightened her quickly heating-up flannels. “Like I said, kissing usually leads to two people being on the same side of the bed.” “That's not why I was on you!” Or was it? Did the curse pull her toward him? Could it have sneaked up on her in the middle of the night and forced her to place her body over his? Did it really have that much power over her? Ana considered herself lucky that she was still fully clothed. “No, maybe not consciously, but your wandering hands did seem to want something else.” Her eyes slanted to his. “I— I wasn't sure where I was. I'm used to having the whole bed all to myself. I must have sprawled out, so that’s how I ended up, uh….” She nibbled her lip, unable to let the words come out. Even thinking about it drove her insane, though he evidently had no problem with it. “On top of me,” he said again with that boyish grin. She blasted him with a vicious glare. “It was an innocent mistake.” He sat up, swung his legs over the bed, and then grandly stood. He stretched out his arms, revealing various muscles that rippled up his back and shoulders, further teasing the curse. Her knees slackened when he carried all that disruptive potency her way and finally stopped in front of her. Breathe, Ana, breathe. “I gotta take a shower,” he said and started toward the bathroom. She exhaled. 47

He glanced over his shoulder. “Come on.” “What?” Her mouth gaped as she tried to suck in air. “There is no way I'm taking a shower with you!” Okay, so maybe the curse took liberties with his smokin’ hot body in the bed, but if he thinks I’m going to— “Showering together?” He glanced up at the ceiling thoughtfully and then looked back at her. “That didn’t really cross my mind, but if you think I'm letting you out of my sight, that I’m gonna give you a chance to take off again, you couldn’t be more wrong. Now get movin’.” He looked as though he truly believed she was going to listen. “I am not going into the bathroom with you, Agent T. Ryker.” No! I'm not! she silently informed the curse. He turned and had her in his grip before she could protest. “Oh, but you are,” he grated between clenched teeth and dragged her stunned body into the bathroom. He shut the door, spun around, picked her up, and sat her on the counter. “Now, you be a good girl and keep that ass of yours right here.” Once the shock of his manly brusqueness began to dissipate, she found her voice. “I'm not—” “Uh-huh,” he warned with a stern look, and she clamped her mouth shut as his fingers hit the button of his jeans. “I'm going to take my clothes off.” Unsnap. “And then I’m getting in that shower.” Unzip. “You can watch me,” he continued, as her gaze blasted up to his, dark and baiting, “or you can close your eyes. But if you try to leave this bathroom, I will come after you. And I’m telling you now, if I have to run through this damn hotel naked to chase you down, I’m not going to be a happy camper. You won’t be a good girl anymore. And you know what that means, don’t you?” The pat on his knee and waving hand came to mind. Is he threatening again to spank me like some insolent child? If he was, she couldn’t help but believe him. And believe he would enjoy every minute of it. She slowly nodded, but the curse was fighting her. It was actually turned on by the suggestion of being disciplined by his hand making contact with her hindquarters. To block the image and him out, she shut her eyes tightly, as is about to walk through a sandstorm. She heard the cling of a metal button hitting the 48

Satisfying the Curse ceramic tile, followed by the rustle of the shower curtain. The curse forced one eye open just a sliver, risking the sting of gritty sand, just in time to catch Ryker's naked backside. A faultless set of gluteus muscles filled her view, and the curse agreed with what her eyes decided—he had an exceptional ass. Swoosh! The curtain closed, taking the sight from her. “Juliana—” His gruff voice pitched through the splashing sounds of the water hitting the ceramic tile and his naked body. The sheer imagination of that hot liquid beading on his flesh sent an ache from her stomach right to her virginal walls. She squeezed her thighs together to lessen the throbbing, desperate to hold in whatever wanted to get out. “Tell me, what's today’s interview all about?” he said. What? He didn’t know who she is? Who her father is? She crossed her legs to fend off the continued torture that was wreaking havoc in her womanly places. The steam started to fill the small room, and the clean scent of soap wafted to her nostrils. She could hear the water slapping against his hot and no doubt tight skin, the very epidermis she had touched that morning. There was a tug, and then another pull that contracted deep in her uterus. She clenched her thighs tighter together. “Juliana….” He intolerantly drew out her name, stressing for an answer. “It would appear to me, Agent T. Ryker, that you should already have that information!” she shouted over the sound of the annoying water, the lucky water splashing his naked body. She fisted her hands at her lower abdomen and doubled over a bit from the next wave of uncontrollable hormonal detonation, brought on by the image. The shower curtain drew back a little, and he stuck his head out. His brows dented. “You okay?” Ana snapped her back straight, pulled her hands from her stomach, and pressed her palms against the counter. If she'd thought he was exceptional dry, he was ten times hotter dripping wet. “I'm… I’m fine.” “You sure? Looks to me like you have a bellyache or something.”

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Bellyache? It wasn’t exactly the kind of word Ana had ever thought she’d hear coming out of Agent T. Ryker's mouth. The strange concern in his voice and the softness in his eyes struck her by surprise too. Does he— could he possibly have a heart somewhere in there? Up to that point, Ryker had been nothing but nails and cement, tough and hard, in more places than one. She waved a hand in the air. “Really, I'm fine.” After a thorough rundown of his eyes over her already-ambushed body, he flipped the dripping strands from his forehead. “I left your file with Agent Deetz.” He ran a hand over his face, swiping away the drops of water. “You know. When you took off.” Sitting on the counter, Ana swung her legs back and forth. She wasn’t going tell him who she was. If she did, he’d look at her with more disdain than he already had for her. Considering what Daddy Pritchard was going to jail for, and what she was about to do for her father, anyone in his right mind would look at her like she had two heads. She kicked her feet a bit higher on the next swing. “Well, I guess you'll have to wait and see.” He gave his head another dramatic shake. “That bad, huh?” He frowned and closed the curtain. **** Waking this morning with a stiffy? Bad. Waking with Juliana Pratt dangerously close to that stiffy? Cruel and really, really bad. Fortunately, she wasn’t lying directly on his morning bolt from the blue. He knew he had a problem when all he saw when he opened his eyes was her shiny, wild auburn hair spread out on his chest. Maintaining his control as she spread those small hands over his body had been difficult. Ryker had deflated, as though her fingers extracted every last bit of strength from him. Nothing about the situation with his new assignment was settling right with him. The attraction he felt toward her was insane and completely out of control. The weird thing was that while she was lying on him in the bed, Ryker hadn’t wanted to bolt. Granted, they hadn’t had sex, but sleeping through a whole night with any woman wasn’t something he did. At the age of thirty-six, he'd already accepted that he'd missed any chance of falling in love or having his piece of that bullshit 50

Satisfying the Curse happily-ever-after pie. No woman had meant enough for him to consider such a commitment. It wasn’t like he had some sad-sack story about a chick breaking his heart. He figured he’d missed that window of opportunity in his life. He was content. He had no one to answer to and no one to worry about other than himself. Perhaps best of all, there was no one to worry about him. Ryker couldn’t see any woman putting up with his risky, carefree lifestyle. It just wasn’t gonna happen. But now, there was Juliana Pratt. Holding her felt right and wrong on so many levels. He could almost see himself worrying about a woman like her. The kiss they shared, the so-called “sufficient” one she handed a pink slip to and then fell so easily asleep after, had rocked his world. It had rallied him to want more. Shit, he even thought about rubbing one off in the shower, but considering the inspiration behind that jack-off was sitting right there in the same room, he opted against a pathetically desperate release. That's gotta be it, T. You haven't gotten laid in a while, that’s all. That’s the only reason you want her so bad. He attempted to convince himself, but then Juliana came walking out of the bathroom. She was dressed in a black dress that clung to every tempting curve on her body. The three-inch, maybe four-inch heels emphasized her long, toned legs and held her perfect ass at a perfect plump. She'd let her hair down, and it spilled in wild wisps around her face and shoulders. His fingers itched to reach out and touch it, to grab it and pull her to him with it. Get it together, T. He swallowed hard, but her beauty caught in his throat and choked him. This vision wasn’t going to help my situation with this new assignment. She was sexy, intelligent, and beautiful—any man’s dream. Ryker’s specifically. “Hey,” was all he could gurgle past the lump in his throat. “You ready?” “Yes.” She raised a finger, indicating he should hold on a second as she passed by him to grab her purse. She harnessed it over her slender shoulder, gave her hair a quick primp, and smoothed her lips together with a smack. “Okay,” she said with a smile, “all ready.” 51

“Good.” Now let's get the fuck out of here before I throw you down on that bed and give that hair of yours a real primping—one you’ll never forget. **** Leaning back against the wall, Ryker scanned the area, taking quick glances back at Ana, who was sitting on a plush tan sofa with an attractive blonde newscaster. An audio tech was bent over her, adjusting the microphone. There were only two entrances to the small room, the one Ryker was guarding, and the door that led to a break room that offered no other exit. People kept streaming in and out of the studio, which was hot as hell. Ryker could only assume it was from too many bodies and too many lights. Ana's back was to him, but as the cameraman zoomed in on her, there was no missing the anxiety tweaking in her face on the large monitor above. Ryker took the phone from his pocket and called his ever-reliable agent coordinator, his AC, also known as Bucky. The phone picked up on the first ring. “Hey, T. What's up?” “Just checking on the whereabouts of the file on my new assignment.” Unaccustomed to starting a case with blindfolds on, he managed to restrain the irritation he felt at having no idea who Juliana Pratt really was. “Yeah, yeah. I'll get it to you.” Bucky paused for a second. “You're staying at the Hyatt, McGee Street, right?” Ryker glanced up at the monitor, and his heart stopped cold in its tracks. Juliana was smiling. It wasn’t a snide smirk or a bitter grin. She was really smiling. It illuminated a brilliant glow that spanned her whole body, ending in her green eyes. Was she laughing? He couldn’t hear her from where he stood, but it appeared as though the video guy was the one who was making Juliana light up like a diamond glistening in the sun. Ryker’s vigilant eyes noted the flirtation between the two, and an odd sense of possessiveness overcame him. It struck Ryker as seriously wrong and positively out of place. Understanding the strange feeling was difficult. It was almost as though he was—Jealous? No! I—Nah. He shrugged it off. He'd never experienced that hideous emotion before in his whole life, certainly not over a woman he’d only known for twenty-four hours. 52

Satisfying the Curse “Hey, T?” Ryker could hear Bucky cuing him in, impatient for a response. “Yeah, I'm here,” he said and gave the room another detailed inspection, dismissing the awkward feelings disrupting his attention from what was going on around him. “An agent will be passing by that way on another assignment,” Bucky said. “He's got the file, and he’ll meet you in the hotel bar at six.” No answer. “Ryker? You got that?” “Sure. Hotel bar. Six. Agent with file.” Lights dimmed, and the ones in front of Juliana brightened. The place became quiet, and the newscaster's voice bellowed around the room. “I'm here today with Juliana Pratt, the secret daughter of multimillionaire Warren Pritchard. After twelve long years, Pritchard is being charged with the murder of—” Ryker's hand fell to his side. His phone slipped from his fingers. It dropped to the floor. Rage, fury, and a sudden rush of absolute hatred consumed him. His skin felt like it was moving slowly over his body. Then it hardened and cracked. He saw red for a moment, then a frigid sheet of black ice seeped into every crevice in his body. No! She couldn’t be! He couldn’t believe it. Juliana Pratt was his unidentified enemy, the kid who was to testify on behalf of that sonof-a-bitch who killed his Aunt Janie? His first reaction was to cross the room, rip her out of the chair, and shake the living hell out of the deceptive little bitch. He wanted to demand why she was protecting the fucker who’d murdered the only mother Ryker had ever really had. But his feet would not cooperate. Instead, those stubborn feet bolted to the floor, confounded and unable to move, weighed down by his heavy malevolence. Her smile no longer had a warm glow. It had morphed into frigid deceit. A picture of Warren Pritchard appeared at the corner of the monitor, along with one of Juliana Pratt. It was as if that heinous image burned directly onto Ryker’s cornea, a permanent impression of disgust. Bile churned in his stomach, and his blood boiled, ready to erupt and spew out. He knew if he didn’t get his temper in check, he’d be frothing at the 53

mouth like a rabid dog any minute. Simmer down, T. Think! Really, really think before you do anything crazy!

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Chapter Five Ana answered all of Luanne Bank's questions, just as she had promised Daddy Pritchard she would. “Why was no one aware that Warren Pritchard had a daughter?” “He wanted to keep me out of the spotlight, to protect me from the paparazzi so I could live a normal life.” Of course, it was a lie. “Was he a good father?” “Oh, yes! Absolutely. He always made it clear how much he loved me.” Another lie. “Where is your mother?” “She left us when I was very young.” This one was the truth. Then Luanne Bank asked her the very last question: “Will you be testifying on behalf of Warren Pritchard, and is it true that you will serve as his alibi for the day in question? The day Pritchard allegedly killed Janie Crawford?” When this question left the interviewer’s lips, the opportunity to make Daddy Pritchard sweat, to afflict him for once with a sense of uncertainty and powerlessness, was more than Ana could resist. She looked at the pretty blonde newscaster. “Now, Luanne, you know I can't talk about the case.” She smiled, for it was another lie. In fact, that was the main reason why her father wanted her to venture into the spotlight. To convince everyone of his innocence before the court proceedings even started. To confirm his alibi and set his defense in motion. Raising her eyes, Ana looked directly into the camera, hoping Daddy Pritchard was watching and squirming in his orange jumpsuit. She smiled at the thought of him sitting in some dreadfully uncomfortable jailhouse chair, a discomfort Daddy Pritchard's pretentious ass wasn’t used to. She smiled even wider. “I’m afraid you'll just have to wait for the trial to hear what I have to say about that day.” Ana could tell by Luanne Bank's tight-lipped expression she wasn’t too pleased with the response. The newscaster wanted a 55

scoop, breaking news that would get good ratings, but Ana couldn’t care less. She didn’t give a flip about being put in the spotlight, or what the public thought of Warren Pritchard. All she cared about was the money. If her father needed her to testify for him, Ana did not doubt she’d get what she wanted. She had him and could make him squirm a little before she delivered. It was the least she deserved for sacrificing twenty-six years of her life. The shining lights dimmed. Dan, the audio guy, removed Ana’s microphone, and Luanne Bank got up from her chair and stormed out of the room. Ana readjusted her dress. The heat from the lights might have withdrawn, but the hot presence of Agent T. Ryker still burned a hole into her back. She hadn’t forgotten him for one second. She stood and turned. The fiery bolt she’d felt on her back came straight from the blaze of the agent's dark eyes. He glared at her as though she had six heads and every single one of those heads bore demon horns. Okay, so maybe she should have prepared him a little, she reasoned. Ana lifted her chin and headed toward him. It's not like she could change who her father was, or the fact that he might be a killer. If the agent wanted to fault her for that, then screw him! She was not her father. “Ready?” he asked with clenched jaws. His eye twitched, and Ana assumed whatever he really wanted to say, what he was really feeling, was not going it slip out between his tightly zipped lips. She nodded and followed him out of the studio. The ride back to the hotel was quiet and uneasy. Ana thought of Daddy Pritchard and all his discomfort and decided that was worth whatever awful things Ryker was thinking about her. Besides, it appeared the agent had already determined she was worthless, simply because she was the daughter of an alleged murderer. She could do nothing to change that. Ana couldn’t be certain if Daddy Pritchard was a murderer or wasn’t, deciding it was the jury’s job. If the evidence presented itself, there was no way her testimony alone would change the truth. Ana followed Ryker through the hotel until they reached the bar. “What are we doing here?” Did learning the truth about her drive the man to drink? After consideration, she dismissed the notion. 56

Satisfying the Curse Agent T. Ryker didn’t strike her as the type of man who needed to drown his feelings in a bottle or a shot glass. No, he was resilient, controlled, and still as freaking gorgeous as ever. He shifted his dark eyes her way. “An agent from NESA is meeting me here.” Resentment twitched again in his eyes. “He has your file.” “What do you need my file for? Apparently you already know enough about me to be disgusted,” she retorted. Irritation darkened his already black eyes, but he said nothing. “Perhaps the agent meeting you here can take over my case. The way you're looking at me—” She glared at him, determined not to back down from his condemning glower. “You could say I'm not feeling too confident about your abilities or your inclination to keep me safe.” He surveyed the small bar and then returned his gaze to her. Now it was devoid of any emotion whatsoever. “Sit at the bar and wait for me,” he barked. Ana muttered a few inaudible words beneath her breath but did as the gruff man instructed, thinking she needed to find her own vertebrae when it came to this flint-hearted agent. She pulled out a barstool, and for the first time Ana sat at a bar that served alcohol. She darted Ryker a nasty look, but he had clearly cast her aside. He was on the phone, but that aggravated scowl was still plastered on his hard face. The bartender's question snapped her from Ryker's foul mood. “What can I get for you, Miss?” Hmm— Of course, Ana knew alcohol was a drug with an effect similar to a depressant. There wasn’t a single cell in the human body resistant to, and the thought of taking such a powerful substance into her body had always been an unappealing one. “I'll have a dirty martini.” In spite of her disdain for the consumption of such a chemical, it was something Ana had always wanted to say. After all, it was time to live free, free of Daddy Pritchard. Her nerves were shot. She could use a good depressant. For just this one time, she would allow a little toxin into her pure, virginal body. It wouldn’t ease the curse, she rationalized, but it might calm her down a bit. She hoped it would at least help her get through the rest 57

of the night with the abstinent agent, who was now glaring at her as he spoke on the phone. The bartender placed the glass in front of her. The small amount of clear liquid and the green olive drowning in the bottom of the cocktail glass appeared harmless. She placed the thin rim to her lips, took a sip, and swallowed. The dry alcohol tore her inexperienced throat to shreds. She went into a coughing, choking fit, but as she caught her breath, her head became fuzzy and her body began to numb strangely. It started in her feet, went to her legs, and then worked its way up. Oh, yeah, this was exactly what I needed, she thought as she took another sip, then another. **** Requesting that the other agent take Juliana Pratt off his hands didn’t sound like a bad idea. He called Nancy Reich to discuss the matter. “Yes, Agent Ryker? What is it?” Her strict voice clipped through the line. “I'm very busy at the moment.” “I don’t care how busy you are,” Ryker snapped back at his boss, far too agitated to care he was being insubordinate. “Why the hell would you assign me to Warren Pritchard's daughter? You fucking know Janie Crawford was my aunt!” “First, Agent Ryker, I excuse you—just this once—for your rudeness. Second, you are a professional, one of my best agents. Knowing that, I could only assume you'd cope and do what is expected of you.” Her words struck him hard. Of course he should have been able to nullify his personal feelings for the sake of the job. He was used to doing that on a daily basis. But fuck, this woman’s father killed my aunt! Just how am I supposed to forgive and forget that? It had taken him everything not to question Juliana about the hearing and not to ask her what she was going to say on the stand. To find out if she was Warren Pritchard's alibi, and if so, if she was really with the fucker the day he killed his aunt, or if it was all some bullshit lie to protect Pritchard’s sorry ass from a lifetime in jail. “Now, what did you call me for?”

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Satisfying the Curse He hated to admit it, but he had to tell the truth. “I'm afraid I’m not the right guy for this case—” “Listen, Ryker, the contract is signed and the fee is paid. You will see this thing through. That’s your job, and it’s mine to see that you do.” “Put another agent on the case, Nancy.” “I can't. You were specifically requested, and as I said, the contract—” “Requested? Who the hell requested me?” What sick fucker would want to put him in this position? “I'm sorry, but you know that’s confidential. Just get the Pratt woman safely to Virginia in two weeks. I don’t want to hear another word about it.” Click. What the fuck! Trying to accept he wasn’t going to get rid of Juliana Pratt, Ryker took many deep breaths before begrudgingly approaching his assignment. When he reached her, she spun—literally spun—around on the stool in a full circle before braking in front of him. “Wow!” she said as her body wavered. She went to do it again, like some excitable child on a carnival ride. Ryker grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Hey!” She squinted as if to focus. Her lips turned down into an overstated pout. Ryker noted the martini glass on the bar. “How many of those did you have?” Three fingers waved on Juliana's hand. “Three?” he asked incredulously. Could three glasses of gin really have her this fall-down drunk? “Martinis, huh? Your preferred choice?” Her shoulders shrugged and then slumped a bit. She jumped up from the stool, giggling when he caught her. “I almos‘ fell,” she slurred as she held tightly onto his shoulders. Her large, glossy eyes gazed up at him. “Yes, you did.” Ignoring her false innocence and her small palms pressing into his flesh, he set aside her sweet scent and the 59

closeness of her body and asked again, “Juliana, is that your preferred drink?” He nodded at the martini glass. She followed his eyes, and a girlie-girl laugh erupted from her once more as she came back to look up at him. “I wouldn’t know,” she said, followed by another bout of giggling. She carelessly patted his shoulder. “It’s the first drink I've ever had! But you know what, Agent T. Ryyykerrrr?” she slurred, apparently unable to let go of his name. “I like the way it's making me feel.” She thrust her arms out in the air. “I don’t have a care—not in the whole worrrld!” she shouted. As she went to give her body a spin the way she’d done on the stool, Ryker pulled her into his arms. Great! Just fucking great! Right then, he knew he was going from a glorified bodyguard to a drunken fool's babysitter. He tucked her against his side, put his arm over her small shoulders, and directed her tipsy body to the elevators. As they waited for the car to come down to the first floor, Juliana bent in closer to his chest. “Mmm,” she inhaled, glancing up at him with wide green eyes. “You smell good, like a wild forest, with a hint of, uh—” She gave him another sniff. “Hmm. I'm not really sure. That potent male aroma is hard to place.” She tilted her head groggily up at him. “It could just be you. We all have our own scent, ya know. But yours, Agent T. Ryker, smells absolutely wonderful.” Ding! Saved by the bell, Ryker ushered her into the elevator. He thought about letting go of her. He didn’t want the daughter of his aunt’s murderer so close to him. But when she stumbled, nearly toppling over as if those gorgeous legs of her were made of spaghetti, he assumed it wouldn't be a good idea. Not unless he wanted to watch her fall flat on her face. No matter how much he wanted his revenge, he couldn’t be that cruel. He stopped in front of their room and loosened his hold on her to retrieve the keycard. Juliana twisted from his arm and leaned back against the door with an exaggerated huff. “You know, I do get it,” she said. He looked at her, raising a questioning brow.

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Satisfying the Curse “My father may be a killer and me? I'm his daughter. But just so you know, Agent T. Ryker,” she said, swerving toward him, “I really couldn’t care less if Daddy Pritchard's ass rots away in jail forever.” He tried to keep his curiosity under wraps. Little boys, little girls, and drunken fools always told the truth. He knew that if he could keep her gin-loosened lips flapping, he might actually find out her truth. He slid the card and wrapped an arm around her so she wouldn’t do a face plant on the gaudy hotel carpet when he opened the door. She pushed herself free of him and stumbled into the room, where she mindlessly tossed her purse on a nearby dresser. “Daddy Pritchard, the respected millionaire!” She twirled on her heels with an undignified near-tumble, righted herself, and shot him a scathing look. “He's a bastard, I tell you!” “Is that right?” Oh, yeah, baby. Keep talkin’. Shaking her head, she dropped into the chair. “Yes. I lied. He doesn’t love me, and he isn’t a good father at all. The only thing I didn’t lie about….” She threw her hand in the air, pointing as if the studio were right there in their room. “Yes, Miss Banks, my mother did leave us. I was just a baby! The woman was a whore, and not a day goes by when Daddy Pritchard doesn't remind me of it.” She sighed and drifted off into a thought, then lowered her voice as if afraid someone was listening in. She bobbed her head back and forth. “Juliana, if you don’t control that curse, you'll turn out just like your mother, a wanton, a slut, and a whore.” Was she mimicking her father? Ryker wasn’t sure, but he remained quiet to allow Juliana’s flood of words to flow. “He hid me in all-girl boarding schools and colleges until I was twenty-three to keep me away from that damn curse. Now look at me!” She sprang up in the chair. “I’m twenty-freaking-six and still a—” She slapped a hand over her mouth. Ryker raised a brow. “Still what?” She dropped her hand and fanned her dress out before she blasted him with those glistening green gems. “I’m still a puppet, and Daddy Pritchard is still pulling all my strings.” “Why, Juliana?” He didn’t move from where he stood but pressed, “Why would you let him do that to you?” What does 61

Warren Pritchard have over his daughter? Obviously, from what the kid was saying, it had nothing to do with unconditional love. Juliana got up and stumbled over to her suitcase. Hastily, she pulled out some clothing and started for the bathroom. She opened the door and gave him a hard look, “You want to know why?” She didn’t bother waiting for an answer and slurred on, “I want the damn money he owes me, that's why!” As she slammed the door shut, Ryker's blood started to boil again. The fucking chick wants her damn money? That’s why my aunt's murderer’s going to walk? Fuck no! Not if I have a damn thing to do with it. A few minutes later, the money-hungry bitch came out of the bathroom, dressed for bed, ready to call it a night. She swayed over to the bed and plopped down. She sprawled out on her back and stretched her arms above her head. Ryker had never wanted to hurt anyone so badly, least of all a woman. He took slow, measured steps and stopped at the edge of the bed beside her. She opened her eyes, gazed up at him, and placed a hand on her forehead. “And the curse is getting really bad.” She winced, and her gaze drifted over his body, slow and tantalizing. It hit every inch of him that sensuous stroll, but stopped at his watchful eyes. “And look at you.” She let out a little groan. “It wants you so bad. You could be the one to satisfy it.” She lowered her heavy lids until her eyes closed. “I know you could, and right about now, I'd do anything to make it stop. It's killing me,” she whispered as she drifted off to sleep. Ryker sat on the bed and studied her as he rethought what she had said to him, trying to make sense of it all. He understood the part about her wanting her money—there was nothing new about a greedy bitch—but he didn’t know what was killing her. What was it she said? Her mother was a whore, and now she’s cursed? The cryptic, martini-induced rant had him stumped. Painfully familiar with what it was like to be unloved by a parent, Ryker still refused to feel sorry for her. She let out a little moan. Her arms moved along the mattress until she settled them again above her head. 62

Satisfying the Curse His gaze slid over her serene face, lingered on her soft, pursing lips, and lowered to the perky mounds thrusting up and down beneath her tank-top with each breath. Her shirt had lifted with her restlessness, and the bare skin of her flat stomach taunted him. Damn! How can I still be attracted to this woman after what I’ve just learned? Unable to stop himself, he soaked in the curve of her pelvic bone and trailed up to her belly button, stopping as he caught sight of the ink. Huh? Did goody two-shoes Juliana Pratt have a tattoo? He flicked his eyes up to her face. She was fast asleep. He pinched her shirt in his fingers and lifted, then froze at what he saw on her soft belly.

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Chapter Six Her frontal lobe, posterior head and neck, hurt as if someone with precise rhythm was hitting her repeatedly with a mallet. She winced as the next thunderous blow struck. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes in an attempt to fend off the growling throb and then pried one eye open. Snapped it shut. “Ouch. Lights,” she whimpered as they sent an ache directly from her pupils to her already throbbing head. The sound of a door opening echoed in her ears, inspiring the rubbery mallet to hit harder on a nail that refused to sink. A strong scent of the wilderness infused her nose. “Good morning, sunshine.” Ryker's lively tone managed to wedge in between her ear and the indestructible mallet. She forced her eyes open. He stood just outside the bathroom in nothing but a pair of faded jeans. Droplets of water clung to his naked chest. He smiled at her as he finished toweling off his hair, then effortlessly tossed the terrycloth onto the chair. “Oh, my.” She closed her eyes. “I have a terrible, terrible headache.” She winced. “No. What you have is a hangover.” Her eyes flew open and the night before staggered back in bits and pieces. Those dirty martinis! One, two— Had there been a third? She couldn’t remember. She tried to sit up, as if it might help to get the blood flowing so her memory would clear, but she couldn’t move her heavy arms. She looked over at her wrists and saw that she was handcuffed to the bed. She clipped her eyes up at Ryker. “How dare you! Let me out of these things right now!” Smiling, he sauntered over to the foot of the bed. “Oh, I'm sorry.” He scrunched down a tad to meet her at eye level. “Aren’t you comfortable enough? Maybe this will help.” He yanked her by the ankles.

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Satisfying the Curse Startled, Ana stared at him, her head still a bit hazy, was unable to find her next words. He bent over, her ankles still in his strong hands. He spread her legs apart and held them firmly to the bed. “There.” His eyes were as black as the night. “Is that better?” “No, that's not better!”What was his problem? Why was she handcuffed? If he had thought she would run while he was in the shower, he couldn’t have been more wrong. The hangover thing was utterly horrible. “What's the matter, pumpkin? Afraid?” His voice was low and daunting, the perfect complement to the eerie steadiness in his eyes. “It's a natural reaction. See, right now, you're vulnerable. That comes from being unable to protect yourself. So what are you trying to protect yourself from?” Ana's heart slammed against her chest, and she started to pant. Oh no! He knows! Those were very close to the exact words, the ones she had said when she tied him up, when she thought he was The Kid, not the dangerous and dominant Agent T. Ryker. “That's right, sweetheart,” he said, nodding his head, knowing what was running through hers. “What was it?” He arched a wicked brow. “Oh, yeah, pain. We all fear pain. But don’t worry, Princess. I won't hurt you.” He scaled her trembling body with those devilish, dancing eyes. “Well, that is, I won't if you tell me why you felt the need to tie me up and try to rape me.” She gasped. “I didn’t try to rape you!” Kicking her feet, she tried to break free from his grip, but Ryker pinned her ankles even more firmly to the mattress. He arched a questioning brow, “No?” “You— you gave me permission to touch you!” As crazy as it sounded, she tried to rationalize with him. He released her ankles and straightened, crossing his arms over his hunky chest. From the cynical look on his face, he clearly hadn’t let her go on account of her explanation. He had something up his sleeve, and if she’d thought she was nervous before, well, now, she was literally shaking in her flannel bottoms. “Had I known you were a virgin, Julianna, I would never have let you put one finger on me.”

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Yes, there was that. It had really upset him when he’d found out her little secret. “So, here's how it's gonna go,” he evenly said as he walked around the bed and sat down beside her. Her heart raced. On the verge of having a full-blown myocardial infarction, she froze. He crossed his arm over her body, trapping her between him and the mattress. Every nerve shuddered and scurried for safety. “You're going to tell me why you drugged me and tied me up.” His eyes seized hers. “And don’t try to lie to me, because last night, well, let's just say your loose lips were a-flappin’, pumpkin.” Damn it! Why couldn’t she remember any of that? Damn those martinis! She had read somewhere that alcohol could cause blackouts. Is that what happened? Why she had no recollection of the night before? She needed time to think about her answer. “How did you know it was me?” Ryker grinned and shifted back. His hand moved to the middle of her body. Ana bent her head, following his hand as it slowly raised her shirt. He glanced down at her tattoo. “What does it mean?” he asked, looking up from the dead giveaway. She grimaced at the irony. “It means freedom.” She'd gotten the tattoo a month after Daddy Pritchard had been arrested. Josie’s friend had done the tattoo for her. A thought popped into her head. “How did you see it? You didn’t—” “Don’t flatter yourself, Princess. As I said before, I don’t fuck virgins.” From his disgusted expression, Ana believed him. “While you were drunk and thrashing about in the bed, your shirt lifted.” “Please pull it back down,” she humbly said. To her surprise, he placed her shirt back over her belly, then trapped her again between him and the bed. “Follow suit from last night and start talking, 'cause I'm not even gonna think about

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Satisfying the Curse letting you loose until I have the truth. And that’s all you better tell me.” Closing her eyes, she groaned. How was she supposed to explain the curse? Honesty usually worked best, she tried to convince herself. She opened her eyes. Agent T. Ryker, angry or not, had to be the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, and the curse wanted him badly. It sat like a sad little child in the pit of her stomach, for he’d made it painstakingly clear the curse would never have what it truly desired. Ryker silently listened to Ana's story of a mother who left her as an infant to chase after a lover, and a father who convinced her she was doomed to be just like that mother, a whore, if she gave into some ridiculous curse. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest. Warren Pritchard had certainly messed up his daughter's life. He’d kept her hidden from the public eye, neglected her, and verbally abused her. What kind of father tells his daughter she'll become a whore if she has sex with a man? Sure, some men might be tempted to put something like that in their daughter's head—hell, he might be one of them—but to tell her she's cursed, to keep her from having a life until she was twenty-six years old? As she talked, the missing pieces from the night before fell into place. “So, with my father in jail and not breathing down my neck, I decided to try, once and for all, to take care of the curse. When I was at The Final Round and saw you, the curse became hungry, more famished than it ever had been before, so I—” “Drugged me,” he finished for her. Damn it! What guy wouldn’t want to hear those words coming out of Juliana Pratt’s mouth? Hungry and famished already had his cock swelling. “Oh, I didn’t drug you. That was Josie's idea. Really, how else would we tie you up?” A fellow fucking NESA agent drugged him? What the hell? Ryker abruptly set the information aside. He'd deal with that later. First, he had to tend to Juliana Pratt and her so-called curse, and he knew exactly how he was going to do it. If that hungry curse needed to be fed, he was gonna feed the shit out of it. And in return, he would get 67

what he wanted. If his plan worked, which he had no doubt it would, he'd have her in the palm of his hand. “I'm going to help you with this curse of yours,” he said. “You are? But you said you don’t, um, have sex with virgins.” Yes, he had said that, and he was going to try like hell to stay committed to that oath. “There are other ways to satisfy that curse of yours.” “Other ways? But you will be doing it, correct?” “I'm the one the curse wants, right?” Hey, she'd said it, and now she confirmed it with a nod of her head. He closed in until he was mere inches from her mouth. God, how he wanted to taste her. “There's just one thing you need to do for me.” A semblance of a “what?” quietly fell from her lips. He looked into her eyes. “You need to promise me that when you testify against your father, you will tell the absolute truth.” Confusion scuttled across her face. “I plan to,” she said. “Good.” He slid a hand to the back of her neck. “It's all settled then.” He pulled her to him. He kissed her, wildly, fiercely, and feverishly. He was only doing this, he told himself, to end the curse, and to see that killer put behind bars. **** For the next three days, Ryker kept his distance from Juliana. He'd agreed to help her out with the curse, but he was all balls and no jump. The night they made their agreement, when he’d kissed her, he'd floundered yet again. Taken over by the kiss, when he finally mustered up enough strength to stop and pull back, she asked to be released. He was ready, prepared to touch her, to feel her body beneath his hands, but then she had said she was “going to be sick.” He tried not to take it personally. After all, she did have a hangover. But after he took the handcuffs off and watched her run into the bathroom, it still managed to mess with his psyche. The first time he’d kissed her, she just rolled over and fell asleep while he stayed up all night wanting nothing more than to drive himself far up between her legs, and that was a blow to his healthy male ego. But the second time, she threw up. Yeah, it kind of fucked with him all right. 68

Satisfying the Curse In the hotels where they stayed, he slept on the uncomfortable couches or sometimes on the floor, wishing every moment he was next to her, deep inside her. I have to get it together, he told himself. Wanting, needing a woman so bad had never been a problem in the past. If they sent off a signal that they weren't interested, he had no problem moving on. And even if it was a definite go, which it usually was, he had no problem moving on afterward. That wasn’t the case with Juliana. Every time he looked into her eyes, he saw that starving, anorexic curse. It stared right back at him, begging for him, holding his cock hostage in its tight grasp. The problem was that she had him stuck at a red light. Stop, asshole, or you're gonna crash. That was why he stayed away, why he hadn’t gone into the bed at night and played with Juliana and her curse. Not only was that curse of hers making Juliana hungry, it had Ryker equally famished. He simply couldn’t trust himself around her. His cock had far too much of an appetite and far too little willpower. She was the one person who could spare Warren Pritchard from a life sentence in the lockup, but Ryker couldn’t directly influence her decision. Not with words or reasoning. It would be a lot easier to take her body, bring her to that ultimate orgasm, and banish her crazy curse. He could see himself smiling while she melted in his hands. That was the plan. Lots and lots of foreplay, till she was screaming—shit, crying out his name—ready to do anything for him. He'd already worked out which little trick he was going to pull first, but he couldn’t bring himself to get close enough to her. His bag of tricks required that he actually had to touch her body, and that was the part he was having the most trouble with. He accepted the fact that he feared virgins. But he was having a difficult time coming to terms with the fact that he might fear Juliana Pratt, too, and not only because she was a virgin. Beyond her innocent-looking eyes and the bookish intelligence that made her seem oddly naïve, he knew there had to more to it. Her inexperience was not his only terror. He was frightened of her, and of the notion that any woman could have that much power over him. It knocked his ego right down the drain. It was swirling away, and he needed to do some plumbing soon. He wasn’t going to let 69

Warren Pritchard go free, and Juliana was the one person who could help him on his quest. “Ryker?” He glanced up from his plate of scrambled eggs, home-fries, and toast. “You haven't eaten a thing. Aren't you hungry?” Sure, he was hungry, but gazing into Juliana's eyes, he could see her “curse” needed to be fed before he fed himself. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked. It was shit like that, those big, concerned, sincere green eyes, that had him thinking she couldn’t be the money-hungry bitch he thought her to be. He shoved a hand though his hair. “No, I'm good. I don’t usually eat a big breakfast.” “Are you sure?” She fumbled for her purse and opened it. “I think I have some aspirin in here.” “Juliana—” She glanced up at him. “Really, I'm fine.” She let out a cute little huff and put down her purse. “It's important to eat in the morning. Your body fasts all night while you're sleeping. Did you know that only about thirty-five percent of adults eat breakfast, and people who do have less chance of getting diabetes and heart disease? It also helps with your concentration,” she added as Ryker stared blankly at her. Another thing about Juliana Pratt was that she was Google incarnate. If ever anyone needed information, especially about health and anatomy, she could provide a whole shitload of facts and figures. The thought pushed him to inquire, “What did you go to college for?” “Me?” she said as though surprised he had asked, that he had shown any interest at all. “Um—medical. I'm a physician’s assistant, a PA.” “Like someone who assists a doctor?” It made sense, and he could imagine her looking professionally adorable, even in hospital scrubs. “Yes. I'd like to go back to school to get my MD, but I, well, I—” She seemed happy to be rescued by the waitress, who had come 70

Satisfying the Curse over to see how their meal was. When the waitress walked away, Juliana turned the tables on him. “How about you? Did you always want to be Agent T. Ryker?” “It wasn’t the initial plan, no. I went to college to be a lawyer.” “Oh? So what happened?” “I passed the bar, found out the hard way that the judicial system is severely flawed, and changed careers.” It happened right around the time his aunt was killed. At that point, he lost all faith in everything he had believed in, studied, and achieved to become a lawyer. He started taking other courses, and one day, when it came down to driving over to Warren Pritchard's mansion and killing him or joining NESA, he chose the staying-out-of-jail path and signed on to be an agent. Since then, life had pretty much been a constant flow of bad guys and dirt-bags like Pritchard himself. The difference was that Ryker could get them locked up for their crimes. “Hmm.” The small noise coming from Juliana had him glancing up to see her dubious expression. It was the same reaction he got from most people who found out he’d gone to law school and passed the bar. He didn’t really come off as the lawyer type, so he guessed he’d chosen the right career path after all. Ryker waited, but if she had anything further to say about his occupation choice, she held her tongue for once. Her gaze lingered on him, making him uncomfortable. How does she do that, he thought, a twenty-sixyear-old virgin capable of stripping him with her eyes, leaving him to feel naked and vulnerable? Shit! She was beautiful and sexy in her own Juliana Pratt sort of way. “So?” she said, picked up her glass, and bit the straw before taking a sip. Ryker became hard and felt it kick against his pants. “When do you think we can start?” She paused and placed the glass on the table as a pink glow shot up her cheeks. “I mean, do you still want to help me with—with my curse?” Of course. Who the hell wouldn’t? The very thought started a kick-boxing match in his jeans, and he wondered who would win. Would it be his personal vow to never take a virgin or his body's driving need to have Juliana? 71

Chapter Seven It was her third interview, and getting in front of the cameras and lying about Daddy Pritchard hadn’t gotten any easier. At least she had some time to relax. The Massy Williams Show gave her the star treatment, complete with a dressing room, a hairstylist, and a make-up artist who put so much gunk on Juliana's face she'd be scrubbing it off for days. Now, alone in the room with Ryker, who was standing in front of the closed door, posing like a royal foot guard minus the red tunic and black bearskin hat, she tried to unwind. Sitting in the salon chair, she gazed at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of her. His shoulders relaxed from his strict pose, and he shoved a hand into the pocket of his jeans. He leaned against into the door and stared pointedly at her, silent but confident, as always. He had never answered her at the café when she’d asked him about tending to the curse. He’d simply looked at her for a long, unbearably awkward moment, then paid the bill. She could only assume he was having second thoughts. More than once, he'd told her he wouldn’t sleep with a virgin, but she thought that part was all worked out. Even after he'd put up a stink about sleeping in the same bed with her their first night together, Ryker was now sleeping on the sofa, or on the floor. He stayed away from her as though she had some contagious disease. She’d tried to get close to him a few times, but he immediately inched back from their nearness, as if her catchy infection would find a way straight into his pores. Ana closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Only one week and two days, she thought. She rolled her head to loosen the kinks in her neck, took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and inhaled sharply. Ryker was standing directly behind her, and she hadn’t even heard him move.

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Satisfying the Curse His dark-eyed gaze bounced off the mirror glass and reached out to her. “You always look so nervous before these interviews.” He wrapped his finger around a lock of her hair and pulled it back from her shoulder. Exposed to the air, the skin on her neck and collarbone stirred. “You need to relax.” He leaned down ever so slowly toward her shivering bare flesh. His eyes never leaving hers, he placed his warm lips on her neck. A knot formed in her stomach and held firm and tight until he pressed his heated lips once more against her skin. A tug-of-war started at her astute head and ended between her trembling thighs. If for one second Ryker thought kissing her was going to help her relax, he couldn’t have been more wrong. He rose up and gazed at her with black, sinful eyes. He placed his large hands gently on her shoulders and softly rubbed the tension he was creating within her. “I haven't forgotten about your curse,” he said, dipping his hands forward. He slid down, inch by inch. She felt his fingers straight to the depth of her bones—from her clavicle, manubrium, and sternum, where he had stopped just before the opening of her top. “I still intend to take care of it for you.” He slipped his hands beneath the fabric covering her heaving chest. Ana's eyes shot wide when he touched her breasts. Molding them firmly, he pulled each one out from her top until they spilled, naked, in front of her, reflected by the mirror. “What if someone comes in?” She thought it absolutely normal to be concerned. But never having had a man's hands on her in such a way before, she secretly wanted to say “Oh my God! Don’t stop touching me.” As he stroked her with precise measure, her breasts swelled beneath his hands. “I would never let anyone see you like this,” he promised. The possessive flare in his eyes had Juliana believing him. Lifting a hand from her, he ran his thumb across his mouth. Among short, heated breaths, Ana watched his tongue slide over his thumb. He lowered his hand toward her, closer, closer— “I would never allow anyone to have the pleasure of seeing you like this, Juliana. No one but me, of course.” His moist thumb glided gently over her nipple. 73

Don’t pant! Don’t you dare pant like some inexperienced virgin, she silently scolded, but when he started to circle her hard little bead, she couldn’t hold back two quick, short spurts of air. Oh no! He was doing the same thing to the other thumb, licking it. She lost the panting battle when he then rolled her nipples between his wet thumbs and fingers. As the moisture evaporated, his contact became rougher, intensifying with each passing second. Did he know that was going to happen? He squeezed her nipples. Ana's hands slapped down onto the arms of the chair. Holding on with all her might, she closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on not screaming out in utter pleasure. He pinched them, and she could no longer hold it inside. “Oh!” she gasped. Her hands were now clenching the chair for survival. She hadn't expected the pinch or the twinge of pain that followed it to feel so freaking fantastic. Ryker was watching her in the reflection, a small, sly grin etched on his handsome face. “Look at you,” he huskily said. Ana gazed at the reflection in the mirror. His strong hands covering her naked breasts. The image was salacious. “Your curse is coming out. I can see it in your eyes.” Unable to respond to his words, ready to burst with, well, she wasn’t sure with what. But something inside her was ready to react to Ryker's splendid touch and his heated, arrogant glare. As he caressed, kneaded, and pinched her tender breasts, she lost all ability to think about responses. She found herself arching, hurting for more. With her neck slack, she swayed her head farther back to absorb the feel of his hands. A moan escaped her lips, but before the last vibration could sound out, Ryker caught her mouth to his, reviving the moan once more. She reached up and drove her fingers, half-numb from clutching the chair, into his thick hair. Pulling him closer, it was Ana who deepened the kiss. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, searching greedily for his. The curse had fully awakened, and it was hungry for Agent T. Ryker. With a thick, masculine grunt, Ryker withdrew from her, rendering her nervous. He gave the salon chair a light tap and it spun around. She ended up in front of him. Her heart was racing as 74

Satisfying the Curse he pulled her up from the chair. Ana let out a little cry when he latched his greedy mouth onto her rigid nipple. With added passionate greed, his lips began to mock what his thumbs and fingers had been doing earlier. As he held her tender mounds with his sturdy hands, his head went back and forth between her breasts, his skilled mouth lapping, sucking and nipping. Ana was ready to wilt and die right there. Her womb contracted. She was on fire, a freaking inferno. Her skin was ablaze, sizzling with need and smoking from the inside out. Ryker's hand slipped beneath her dress. He pulled her leg up and around his waist. Her engorged breasts hit his solid chest. He gathered her ass into his hand and squeezed, not like he had done with her breasts, soft and measured, but rough and taking, so much so that she had to struggle for her next breath. “Juliana—” He yanked her closer to him. With the feel of his manhood pressing and grinding into her pelvic area, her breath never came. “Oh, my sweet, sweet Juliana.” His voice was needy and harsh. He captured her mouth and invaded her mouth with more passion and fury than ever before. He sipped moans from the bellows of her lungs with each feverish kiss. His tongue lashed and demanded attention, attention Ana was more than willing to give. He pushed her panties to the side. He rubbed and kneaded her ass-cheeks. “Ryker….” She breathed his name. She wanted him. She was ready to throw herself down on the floor, willing and prepared to surrender to him. And then there was a knock on the door. His hands flew off her body. He stepped back. “Shit. I'm sorry.” He raked his fingers through his hair. First, why was he apologizing to her? Second, what was he apologizing for? She readjusted her bra and the top of her dress, willing herself back to where she actually was, the dressing room at The Massy Williams Show. Ryker had certainly taken her somewhere else, somewhere completely out of this world, and she hoped she could journey there again. Another knock at the door.

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“What?” he snapped over his shoulder, keeping his gaze on the floor. “Miss Pratt, you're on in five,” said a woman's voice muffled behind the door. “All right! She'll be out in a minute,” Ryker grunted. She didn’t care who was waiting for her. Ana wanted to know only one thing. “What are you sorry about?” He turned and shot her a brutal look. “That. It got out of hand, out of control. Come on.” He started for the door. “Let's get you out there.” “Out of hand?” she said, meeting him at the door. “Isn't that what's supposed to happen?” “Yeah.” He pulled the door open. “That's what's supposed to happen to you.” Four minutes later, her microphone was clipped beneath her dress and Ana was perfectly positioned for the camera shot. Massy Williams began asking her very leading questions, and like a welloiled motor, Juliana recited her rehearsed lines, the lies about Daddy Pritchard. This time, though, guilt wasn’t what was consuming her. This time, it was the release of her oxytocin from all that Ryker-induced stimulation. Oh God, his hot mouth— As Massy Williams continued to talk, Ana wondered if the whole world could see her heavy, swollen breasts. She wondered if they were popping out of her dress, if the viewers could see them growing right before their eyes. Ana cringed. This was terrible! She was really concerned about it, wondering if her nipples were still erect, poking out at everyone. They were so sensitive and so hot. She wanted to sneak a peek, to glance down at them and check, but she couldn’t take the chance of drawing attention to her chest, which Ryker had so violently awakened. Damn it, why did he do this to her right before she had to appear on national television. **** The ride back to the hotel was quiet, but Ryker was fine with that. He didn’t want to broach the topic of their dressing room interlude. He'd lost control. His only saving grace was that knock at the door. At the time, Ryker hadn’t been sure if he wanted to kiss or kill the woman who wielded that knock. While she didn’t know it, 76

Satisfying the Curse she’d probably saved Juliana's precious virtue just by doing her job. The only thing running through his mind while his hands and mouth were all over Juliana's body was that she was his. No man had ever had her the way Ryker wanted to, and, by her response— those sweet provoking little cries—the way he might have had her. She could be mine, he was thinking then, mine and mine alone. That was when the possessiveness sneaked up on him. No other man will ever have Juliana Pratt. He shook his head, knowing that kind of thinking was going to land his esteemed discipline in a great deal of trouble. The need to be the first and only man to break the seal to her paradise, to bring Juliana to complete ecstasy, tempted him. Fuck, he'd almost fallen victim to her responses. Her moans had coaxed his hands. When she arched, it persuaded his mouth. And when those firm naked breasts crushed against his chest, when his cock pressed against her soft body, he had forgotten for one second that she was Warren Pritchard's daughter. Get your priorities straight, he told himself as he followed her swaying hips into the hotel room. She placed her purse on the dresser and kicked her heels off. Viewing her from behind, he saw her shoulders were slackened. She appeared fatigued, exhausted, but when she turned around with those bright green, angry eyes darting at him, Ryker sensed a battle was brewing. “How could you do that to me!” Yep. A fight in the making. It took him a second, but he eventually caught on. “I was just trying to help you relax,” he explained, trying for casual. Her eyes slanted. “Relax? That didn’t relax me. It—” She threw her hands up. “It messed me up! All I could think about were my breasts!” She paused in thought and dropped her hands to her sides. “Obviously, they're one of my erogenous zones,” she assessed, more to herself than to him, and then she proceeded to place her hands on her breasts. She squeezed and rubbed them. Shit! Ryker instantly stiffened. “The oxytocin releasing. Oh my! They were so swollen, and my nipples—” She let go her breasts and took the few quick strides to get to him. She reached out and grabbed his shirt. He blinked her luscious breasts from his mind as she yanked his upper body down 77

to meet her face to face. “Tell me, could see you them on the camera? Were my breasts falling out of my dress? My nipples, were they poking out? Could everyone see them?” Ryker wasn’t sure if he was going to burst out laughing or be victimized by a full-on raging woody. “No.” He decided his hard-on would do him no good. Juliana was too upset about her breasts at the moment. “As I told you,” he went on, plucking her fingers from his shirt and forcing some space between them, “I'd never allow anyone to see you like that.” “It felt like everyone was seeing me like that! They were so hot and hard.” She went to hold them again, as though rubbing them would somehow soothe her temper. “Don't do that,” he said, arresting her hands before they made it to her beautiful breasts again. If she did it one more time, hot and hard was what Ryker was going to be. And if she didn’t stop talking about them and touching those divine, lush mounds—the ones he had toyed into oblivion—he’d find himself in bed with her that very night, toying with all the other parts of her. Then she'd find herself hot and hurting all over, in places she'd never hurt before. But before he could even consider that, he'd have to have a little one-onone time with his own misbehaving self-discipline. Juliana snapped her hands from his grasp. “Why can't I touch them? They're mine, part of me, and they hurt.” Ryker let out a short chuckle. No, they're mine, sweetheart. Taking a dangerous step toward her, he glanced down at the swollen bounty in question and slowly lifted his gaze to meet her awaiting eyes. “The only one able to make that kinda hurt go away,” he said, bringing a finger to her collarbone and trailing it down over the crest of her silken flesh, “is me.” Fear scuttled across her face, but she diffused it. In a low, throaty whisper, she responded, “Then make it go away.” Temptation became his enemy all over again, and that damn curse had slithered into her eyes. Whenever it was there, his ability to stay in charge vanished. Drawing his finger to her chin, he tilted her head up. “I will.” He caught the feral passion in her glossy eyes, and in reaction to it, his ability to be in control receded. He dropped his hand. “All in due time, Juliana,” he said and walked over to the 78

Satisfying the Curse chair. He needed to put more space between them, time to recharge his willpower, so he took a seat. “You don’t have to do it, you know. Take care of my curse, I mean.” Yeah, right. At that point, Ryker no longer had a choice. Pritchard aside, he no longer had the option of backing out of their agreement. He needed her too much, and that just pissed him off. Needing Juliana meant breaking a personal code, his pledge to never take a virgin. Hence, he was free only to play with her—play and play and play some more. He longingly took in her sensuous body. Oh, this is gonna suck, playing the game but never finishing it, he thought. It wasn’t something he was used to doing. Juliana was glaring at him, her confusion apparent, and he knew what she saw when she looked at him. The blank, unreadable stare, a required façade of every NESA agent’s arsenal. “Besides,” she said, finding her voice, “in a little over a week, I'll have what I want, and this will all be in the past. Daddy Pritchard, you—” “Yes, I understand that.” Anger swelled up in him, but he managed to hold his controlled demeanor. “You'll have your money then, 'cause let's face it, that's why you're doing all this, isn’t it? To get your hand on Daddy’s money?” As much as he hated to admit it, her being a greedy little bitch couldn't even sully her beauty. Looking astounded, she cracked out, “What?” “A few martinis, remember? They loosen the lips, Princess.” Ryker found pleasure in the flash of alarm that ran across her face. Not to mention the twitch in her eye, her thinned lips, and the furrowed brows that revealed just how perplexed she was. He pulled his leg up and rested his ankle on his thigh. He held it there with a clenched hand while taking in the sight of a bemused Juliana. “Warren Pritchard was a terrible father, and he never loved you. I believe your exact words were, ‘he's a bastard’.” “I said that?” There was a strong sound of disbelief in her tone, and her eyes were aghast. Ryker didn’t know how to take it. Was she upset that he knew the truth, or upset that she couldn’t remember telling him the truth? It really didn’t matter. He knew it nonetheless. “Yep, that, and you 79

also said the only reason you're doing these interviews is for the money.” She placed a hand on her forehead and groaned. “I'm never drinking again.” “So,” he said, ignoring her meltdown, “within the next week, I will satisfy that curse of yours, and you'll get your money. But not before you follow through with your promise.” “To tell the truth…” she slowly said, as though recalling their deal, but he cut her off. “Yes, I know it may be difficult, because you want that damn money so bad. But I'm warning you, Juliana, if you get up on that stand and lie, I will hunt you down and—” Ryker purposely left his threat unfinished, knowing the what-if would be much more terrifying. It was more intimidating than knowing the true consequences, because it allowed the mind to run through a tumult of all of its worst fears. Her brow furrowed. “Why? Why do you even care what I say?” Yeah, T. What the hell? Why don’t you just tell her it was her father who killed the only woman who'd ever been a mother to you? Do that and shoot to smithereens all your chances of getting Ana to do what you want. “I believe in justice,” he said, “and as far as murderers go, I believe in the death penalty.” “You wish my father to be put to death if he's found guilty?” “Absolutely,” he solemnly replied, careful not to grin because he was sure it wasn’t appropriate, even for a bastard like Pritchard. The man was, after all, the woman’s father.

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Chapter Eight He’d looked at her with such disdain when he mentioned her money. Apparently, Ryker thought her greedy. He could judge her however he chose, she decided. He had no idea why she needed Daddy Pritchard's money. She didn’t care what he thought about her. It was none of his business. But deep down, she did care. Reluctantly, she acknowledged that gaining Ryker's respect and pleasing the man were essential to her happiness and survival. Almost as essential as getting her money. She blamed her need to please the agent on her depraved curse. It had to be the reason she longed for him to look at her the way he had in that dressing room, and the first night when he had kissed her. It had to be why her heart splintered into a thousand pieces when he found out who her father was and when he silently scolded her about saving Daddy Pritchard's ass, all for the money. That's enough, Ana! No man was going to stop her from getting what she wanted. It was time to take the sting out of the curse for good, to finish the rest of the interviews, and to leave her father and him behind. She had plans, dreams, and she'd poured a lot of time and energy into them. Neither Agent T. Ryker nor anyone else was going stand in her way. First, she needed to convince Ryker to succumb to the curse. All his dillydallying around was getting her nowhere. She had nine days to get him to take care of the curse, and not another day or night was going to go by without his cooperation. So when he came out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower, in a pair of black drawstring pants and nothing more, the curse went stir-crazy. She had chosen to adorn herself in a skimpy cotton babyblue cami and a pair of sweat-shorts, the only remotely sexy ensemble in her bag other than the dress she’d worn the night she allegedly tried to rape him. But sitting on the bed, she suddenly felt naked. She reached for the remote and clicked the television on. Okay, here goes— It was time to let the wanton curse take over. It 81

was the only way she was going to get rid of it. Flicking through the channels as Ryker made his way over to the bed, she casually asked, “Do you want to watch a porno?” Ryker was about three steps from the bed when he came to a complete stop. Ana thought she saw a shimmer of refusal in his eyes, but it could have been fear. If there was any apprehension, he abruptly abandoned it. His eyes lowered, and a sexy grin appeared on his arrogant face. “No,” he said, and Ana's bravery, like a thin, frail piece of paper, crumbled up into a small wad deep in her stomach. “But I would like to watch you.” “Watch me?” “Yes. I would like to watch you watch a porno,” he countered, slowly unwrapping the destroyed bravery in her gut. He got on the bed and arranged his body opposite of hers. He rested his head on the footboard, his back to the television. Placing a hand behind his nape, he settled in to the mattress, crossing his long legs at his ankles. “Go ahead. Pick one out,” he coaxed, as though she were picking a scary movie or some chick-flick and not a racy pornographic film. With her fingers trembling, she clicked to the menu. She flipped through the choices and chose one that looked harmless—straight sex with nothing too kinky. Having experience in selecting a porno, Ana was confident she'd chosen right. She put the remote on the nightstand. The pseudo-reggae-wacky-porno-style music filled the room. Ryker's brows mockingly flickered at the sound, and the reality of what she was doing struck her hard in the head. She scrambled for the remote. I can’t do this. Just as she was about to hit the stop button, Ryker said, “Mute it.” “No. I think this was a bad idea. I'm going to shut it off.” “Mute it, Juliana,” he huskily commanded, all mocking gone. Her finger shifted, and it didn’t land on the stop button. She capitulated, hitting mute, but threw the remote at him. His relentless gaze on her, he caught the remote in his hand and placed it beside him on the bed.

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Satisfying the Curse She crossed her arms over her swelling breasts and glanced up at the screen. A woman wearing a short mini-skirt was standing in an office. “Tell me what you see,” Ryker said. She snapped a look at him and saw serious anticipation in his eyes. He did, in fact, want her to describe what was going on. He couldn't see it from where he was, and the thought of doing a playby-play commentary turned her on. After a long, hard stare-down, she decided to play along. After all, she had initiated the game. She looked back up at the screen. “There's a woman. She has long blonde hair. A man is there”—attractive, but nothing compared to you, she thought”—and he's, um, touching her. Okay, now he's removing her shirt.” “Take yours off.” Her eyes shot to him. “What?” Maybe she should have asked for the rules before she started to play the game with him. She was nervous, but the curse wasn't. Undaunted, it silently giggled at his dare. She sat up, as if the curse had forced her body into a sitting position. “If you want it off, take it off yourself.” Hush my mouth! Did she really just say that? Ryker picked up the remote, hit pause, and set it back on the mattress. He lifted his hand and motioned with his index finger for her to come closer. Rising slowly, she summoned the courage to walk her way over to him on her knees. His hands went directly to the bottom of her cami, and in one smooth movement, he easily pulled her shirt from her body and gazed down at her breasts. They swelled and lifted to his heated gaze. He picked up the remote and pressed start. “Continue,” he said, looking deeply into her eyes. Practically naked and feeling vulnerable, she sank back on her heels. Really? How was she supposed to keep going when her aching breasts were demanding his attention? He patiently waited, silently informing her that the soothing of her hurt was going to be delayed until she did what he had asked. “He's, uh, naked now.” She gave him a quick onceover, and her heart skipped a beat. Well, isn’t he going to play his part and get naked too? 83

“And?” he drawled, not making a move to remove his pants. Guess not. “He's caressing her breasts with his hands, kneading them.” She tilted her head. “Like dough.” “Sit on my lap.” Thoughts of dough tried to escape her mind, but that was exactly what she was becoming—sticky, pliable, and able to withstand a poke. The invitation didn’t need to be repeated. She shifted her body over him, spreading her legs and settling down on his thick, strong thighs. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her up to her knees. Her thrusting breasts were so close to his delicious mouth. “All right,” he huskily said as his sight drifted over her breasts before coming to her eyes. “Go on. What's happening now?” The needy place between her legs and her breasts began to hurt, and she knew—for Ryker had told her—that he could make the ache go away. She required the medicine of his touch. Oh! The porno! He wanted to know what’s going on there, with them. Ana dragged herself away from his lazy eyes. “He's holding her breasts firmly in his hands.” She inhaled sharply. Ryker's hands slid from the staunch hold of her hips. They swept up the hourglass of her figure until he, too, held her firmly in his capable hands. His large fingers dug into her flesh, soft but strapping, and he pumped. “Like this?” “Yes.” She lurched forward into his touch. “Just like that.” Her head swayed back as she absorbed the feel of his hands. “Juliana—” His provocative and deep raspy voice saying her name caused her to tip her head back up. “The movie?” Seriously? Screw the porno! Let's make our own. Had she been more experienced with this sex thing, she would have suggested it. The rhythm of his hands started to slow, threatening to stop their magic altogether if she didn’t continue with the game. Obediently, she went back to watching the movie. Hoping, wishing, and then— Yes! Her insides quivered, and there it was. “He's placing his mouth on her.” She paused and nibbled her lip. “Where?” Ryker's heated breath brushed across her aroused peaks. She bent her head toward him, and he looked up at her. His lashes were long and dark, his eyes even darker, black and 84

Satisfying the Curse smoldering. “Here?” The single word shuddered upon her skin just before his mouth enveloped her tingling nipple. She plunged her hands into his hair and pulled him closer. “Yes, right there!” She exhaled from her heavy lungs. He suckled her nipples, and his name escaped from her lips. Trailing up her sternum, he lashed his tongue and lips over her neck. His strong hand clamped her behind the neck. He pulled her close to his body. Looking over his shoulder, she could see the woman lying on her back. The man had crawled up between her legs. A small whimper escaped Ana's throat as she imagined Ryker doing that very same naughty thing to her. Ryker arched his back, gave her a sideways look, and with a choppy breath said, “Please, Juliana, continue.” Ana could see the desire in his eyes. He didn’t try to hide it, and there was nothing that would have stopped her from continuing. “She's on her back, and he's between her legs.” She hesitated and cast her eyes back and forth between the porno and Ryker, then swallowed hard and said, “He's—er, uh— he’s tasting her.” With his breathing back to a normal pace, Ryker coolly replied, “Would you like me to taste you, Princess?” He couldn’t see for himself, but her eyes were undoubtedly popping out of her head, giving way to her answer. He grinned. “Let's start with this.” He reached up and took the hand she had clamped tightly to his shoulder. He directed it to her belly. “Slip your fingers beneath your panties.” He nudged, and once more, encouraged by his all-male potency, Ana abided to his request. “Take your middle finger and slide it into all that wetness,” he instructed, as though for her to be anything other than wet was out of the question. Her finger obediently slid down and touched her sensitive damp flesh. She winced. “Now….” He wrapped his fingers around her forearm and pulled her hand from between her legs. He lifted it up and folded her fingers back, all but the glistening one she had touched herself with. “Let's find out what you taste like.” He took her finger and slid it into his mouth. Slow and sensuously, he withdrew it. A small

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masculine moan rumbled from his chest. “You are splendid, sweetheart.” The seductive action, his relentless tease, was exotic, but she knew it was a mere appetizer for a very hungry curse. Her years of repression would require more. “He's kissing her there,” she said and glanced down to her own burning womanhood and then back at Ryker. “With his mouth.” Ryker's arm came around her body. He pushed her onto her back and maneuvered his hard physique over hers. He propped his shoulders up with his palms and his lower body up with his toes so that not one inch of his masculine flesh made contact with hers. It was as if he were levitating, suspended in the air. She wanted him to drop down and press all that power on top of her, to feel his hardness bruising her, but he did not. His breathing had escalated. It was ragged and fast. “You want me to do that to you?” The harshness in his voice, the need for salvation in his eyes, had frightened her. “Yes,” she gasped. Scared or not, she did want him to follow through with it. She wasn’t going to stop until she knew what it felt like to have his lips against her pussy. He moved downward, pulling on her shorts, tugging and yanking until they were completely removed from her body. He bent one of her legs up, then the other. She was sprawled out before him, and his heavy gaze scraped her naked body. “Are you sure you don’t want me to touch you with my hands first?” What was he afraid of? Did he think he needed to ease her into this? She knew what she wanted, damn it! “Touch me with your mouth,” she said, her confidence bolstered by inescapable need. He resumed the position and lowered his upper body between her shaking legs. “Okay,” he said in a sort of cautious warning. He nestled his head lower. Ana felt the heat of his breath brush her center before the fire struck a spark deep inside of her with his no-holds-barred mouth. Her head shot up as she tried to see what he was doing, but all she could see was his nearly black hair. She couldn’t see a thing other than that, but hot damn, she felt every single sensation of his lips sucking and licking her. She fell back onto the mattress with a 86

Satisfying the Curse groan. His tongue was smooth but leathery as it stroked her. She tensed when she felt his lips encase her sensitive pressure point. Savagely he began to suck, and it was wonderful. Her hips tensed and thrust forward as the sucking intensified. “Ryker!” She started to pant. “What—what are you doing down there?” she squealed. He pulled back and shot her a devilish grin. “I'm sucking on your clit, Princess.” He delved back between her legs, back to her clit. In an attempt to match his ravishing rhythm, her pelvis moved up and down. In that moment of ecstasy, it was as if he'd magically pulled every single emotion from her and drawn them all directly to her clitoris. “Oh. My. God!” Was this what she’d been missing all these years? No wonder the curse wanted it so bad! Every cell in her body burned with desire. Awed by the whole experience, her mind drifted to the physiological effects. “On my bartholin glans, my—oh my— introitus is on fire.” All those marvelous things that were happening in her womanly places came to a complete stop. Ana's head jolted up. She snapped her eyes down at Ryker. His expression was grim. “Don’t do that,” he warned with dark, sedated eyes. “What?” “You know what, reciting the technical words for your—hell, for whatever you're talking about. I don’t want you to think, Juliana. This isn’t a damn science experiment in med school. Just let yourself feel what I'm doing to you. Let yourself go.” “Oh, believe me, I do feel everything you're doing to me, and that sucking thing is absolutely wonderful,” she said in a rushed breath. The letting-go part was what scared her. It was the motive for her to start mentally flipping through websites to distract herself. She was afraid if she didn’t force her mind to go somewhere else, she’d surely forfeit herself completely to Ryker, and that terrified her. His head veered downward until his mouth was once again submerged between her legs. The hunger in his eyes as he watched her and the feel of his hot tongue only intensified the moment. “Ryker,” she gasped. “It's… it's….” she whimpered. “That's it, Juliana,” he said, breaking from the fabulous torture he was administering on her virginal clitoris. “Tell me in a way I can

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understand. Cry out and moan for me, baby. I need to know you're all right, that what I'm making you feel is—” “Wonderful. Amazing!” She plunged her hips forward, and he dove back to the begging spot of her heat. The feelings that scattered upon his departure had gathered back and penetrated every part of her. He drew her essence from her. Her womb tightened, and her clitoris pulsated with a pleasant pain. Her control, her ability to think coherently, was slipping away. Forcefully, with great technique and expertise, Ryker demanded it all and took it all. “Wait!” She shuddered, trying to catch her breath and her approaching abandonment. “Wait! Oh my. I— I— Stop!” Immediately Ryker paused and pushed himself up on to his palms. “I feel strange,” she admitted. “It's all right, Juliana. What you're feeling is normal.” Ryker’s husky voice was oddly tender and calming. “I don’t know about that. It’s so out of control.” Ana thought she was going to break into a trillion pieces, that she might somehow lose her soul to him. “When you have an orgasm, it’s an overwhelming sensation, and you do lose control. Sometimes it even feels so good that it hurts.” “Yes, that's what I was starting to feel like.” He had defined the feeling perfectly, and she realized she was ready to experience that throbbing bliss. She’d waited too long, almost three decades. “Please,” she meekly said. “Ryker, please finish. Give me an orgasm. I… I’m ready to lose control.” “Juliana….” When he sighed, her heart panicked. Had she blown her chance yet again, like back in the hotel when he found out she was a virgin? “Listen very carefully to me.” His tone was strict. She stared up at him with undivided attention. She'd do anything to get his mouth back on her. “If you tell me to stop, I will,” he confirmed. “But be sure it's what you really want, because the minute that slips from your mouth again, I’m done. For good.” “Oh, no, no, Ryker! I don’t want you to be done.” 88

Satisfying the Curse He shifted to one palm and lifted his hand up between her legs. A single finger sliced the heart of her tender folds, and Ana's body jolted. He raised a brow. “You sure?” He stroked her with his finger, which was heavier and more invigorating than his tongue. He feathered it, rougher and then harder, repeatedly over her clitoris. She gathered the sheets into her fists. “Yes! Oh, yes, I'm sure.” Ryker slithered his head back down, his eyes still holding hers prisoner. He pitched his tongue at her blazing bud. Pressure. A thick finger? Suddenly, it pushed past the entrance to her well-guarded opening. She clenched her thighs, trapping his head between them. He suckled harder, fiercer, and with her toes tingling, almost numb, Ana arched closer to him. A small burst of something powerful broke inside her when his finger slipped in. “Ryker!” A brow lifted. “Juliana?” She bit her lip, forbidding that safe word from coming out. He nestled his face back down and started to move his lips, tongue, and finger again—a trio of stimulations. Beams of lights flashed in her mind’s eye, so lucid that she could almost feel their colors. She became elated by the firing jolts of passion. He pushed farther into her and withdrew. “Oh, Ryker!” Panting was no longer the problem. Now Ana held her breath as a wave of spasms clutched around his thick finger, encouraging him to move a little faster without completely filling her. “I'm warm—Oh!” She squirmed beneath his touch. “Is it hot in here? I'm sweating.” She brushed the back of her hand over her forehead. “So, so hot.” “It's okay, Princess. You're supposed to be hot.” Ana had no choice but to believe him, because she had never personally experienced anything so intense in her whole entire life. He teased her opening with his finger, and that just about took her over the edge. She swallowed some air. Unexpectedly, she needed him to go deeper. “More! I want more.” “I can't give you much more, babe, without breaching your—”

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She lifted her head and glared down at him. Take the kid gloves off! “It feels so good! I want more,” she begged. “Give me more, Ryker,” she hissed. Or perhaps it was the curse doing the hissing. “Oh, hell,” he groaned, dipping his finger a little deeper. The probing, the fullness of his finger excited her. She could only imagine what his penis would feel like, and the thought made her cry out for more. In response, he sucked her clitoris even more aggressively. Unable to stand it any longer, Ana surrendered. The flood of frenzied sensations Ryker had been demanding from her exploded, and she knew she had to be climaxing. There was no other explanation for what she was feeling. She gave each burst of that blissful ecstasy back to his greedy mouth. The cries, to Ryker’s ears a heavenly sound, reached out and grabbed hold of his cock and wouldn’t let go. Her beautiful body, writhing from his touch, made him growl like an animal against her soft pussy. He wanted to rip off his pants, crawl onto her, and push himself through Juliana's tight softness. So badly he wanted to break that damn barrier and declare her forever his. Holding back his finger's exploitation had been difficult enough. When she begged for more, fucking her hard with it was what he longed to do. But if he was ever going to pop that sweet, sweet cherry, there was no way he was going to do it with his finger. Her panting subsided, her cries withered, and her breathing leveled out. The time had come for him to leave the center of her little paradise. He slithered to the side and came up beside her in the bed. He made no contact with her. That was far too dangerous, and he was relatively certain if their bodies touched—other than his finger and mouth to her sweet core—her virginity would not remain intact. Lying on his side, he looked down at her body, then into her eyes. They were glossy and heavy. Her skin was glowing, her cheeks flushed, and her lips were swollen. Nothing as sexy as Juliana Pratt had ever met his eyes. She was beauty at its very finest. Her hand came up toward him. No. Please don’t touch me! Despite his mental pleas for space, the delicate hand landed gently on his cheek and his whole body responded to the innocent caress. Her certain danger swelled and 90

Satisfying the Curse hardened his loins. He lowered his eyes, and his jaw tightened beneath her palm. He ground his teeth together as though it might somehow force his corporal desire to make a quick retreat. “Ryker,” she whispered. He opened his eyes and saw her gazing up at him with gratification and fervor. Any man would be proud to receive that sort of look from a gorgeous woman in his bed. Ryker was torn between justice and lust. She was the enemy, the daughter of Warren Pritchard. He should fuck the living hell out of her for that reason alone. He should steal her fucking virginity after what she was stealing from him, taking away his only chance to see that asshole behind bars forever. Staring down at her luminous green eyes, all Ryker really wanted to do was pull her into his arms and hold her tight. But he knew all too well that thinking with the wrong head can cause massive problems when it came to handling the task at hand. Why did he want her so much? Shit! Just look at her, you idiot. Juliana was nothing but a sexy little troublemaker, and so far as that crazy curse of hers went, it was still fucking hungry. He sensed the hors d'oeuvres he'd just given it. Those tiny nibbles, literally and figuratively, weren’t going to hold it over for very long. The thing was still waiting for the main course. She blinked. “That was—” She blinked again as she lightly stroked his chin and cheek. “Oh, thank you, Ryker.” He stared down at her. Normally he would have said, “You're so very welcome,” grabbed his pants, and headed out the door. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her, and hell, his pants had never even come off. Fighting to get free, his cock was throwing a tantrum. It wanted to come out and play, too. Her hand stilled. “Do you want me to—” She impishly glanced down to his painful crotch and then back up at him. “To relieve you?” “No,” he bit out. Damn, did she want to lose her virginity? Wait. The boldness, the passion in her eyes was hot and sexual. She appeared fearless. Shit, yes, she was ready. Ready to get laid. Ryker had regained his lost sanity, though. There was no way he was gonna be the one to do it. His rod turned to steel. 91

“Oh!” Her face went pale. She reached for the blanket and covered herself, pulling it up close to her chin. Her eyes lowered, and she shied away from him. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I guess I shouldn’t just assume that you're— well, that you're attracted to me.” Anger surged through him. Fuck! He reached out and seized her hand, the one holding the blanket, and placed it on his rock-hard cock. “Does this feel like I'm not fucking attracted to you?” Her gaze flew up to his. “Ah,” she squeezed him. His eyes rolled, and he cringed. “No?” She squeezed him tighter. “Do you want me to—” “No.” He pulled her hand from his full, throbbing erection. “No,” he confirmed again, more to himself. “Fuck, no. Go to bed, Juliana.”

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Chapter Nine Two days had gone by, and Juliana had once again developed a case of whatever plague it was that kept Ryker away from her. The agent barely made eye contact with her, and he was back to sleeping anywhere where she wasn’t. His answers were short and snappy, conversations were scarce to nonexistent, and his mood was as black as his eyes—all the time. He stayed the night he'd given her an orgasm, and the next morning, she woke up in his arms to see him staring down at her, his expression bleak. She’d jumped when he finally moved to get off the bed. She knew he wanted her, or at least his body did. He’d abruptly pointed it out to her with that barbaric and suggestive hand-to-penis maneuver. But he confused her. He'd been angry, yet sexually aroused. Nothing seemed to make sense about the man. One minute he was sexy, persuasive, and greedy, and the next, he was cold as ice. Ana sat in the chair in the hotel room, waiting for the arctic king, who was currently in the shower—not that hot water was going to thaw any of his bitterness. While surfing the Web on her iTouch, she could hear his phone ringing. It was nearby and oddly enough, he hadn’t taken it into the bathroom with him this time. Her eyes sought out the gadget’s whereabouts, and she found it vibrating and ringing atop the dresser. She wandered over to it. The ringing stopped, but two seconds later, it started all over again. Ana picked it up and hit the answer key on the touch-screen. “Hello?” “Hey, T—” There was a pause in the rushed male's voice. “Hey, wait. You're not T.” “No, I'm not,” she admitted. There was silence for another few seconds. “Is this Juliana Pratt?” “Yes, and who is this?”

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“T.'s agent coordinator, Bucky. Where is—? Does Agent Ryker know you’re answering his phone? Wait. Is he all right? God, tell me he didn’t do something stupid and get himself hurt or killed.” The concern in his voice shook Ana. She'd never imagined that anyone would or could worry about the indestructible Agent T. Ryker. “He's fine. Just in the shower.” “Oh, okay.” Relief penetrated the line. “Well, let me give you some advice. In the future, I wouldn’t go answering his phone, unless— naw, he would never give anybody permission to get in his business like that, least of all an assignment. You ought to leave his phone for him to answer, ma’am.” Ana shrugged. Whatever. “Okay.” She reached out to touch Ryker's gun, which had also been tossed carelessly on the dresser. She feathered it with her fingers. It was dark, cold, and lethal, just like the man it snuggled up next to every day. A thought snapped into her head. He left it out! Surely he wouldn’t do that deliberately, or leave his phone. She reasoned that either he had too much on his mind, or he was subconsciously beginning to trust her. She smiled at the thought as she fingered the cold metallic finish on Ryker’s weapon. “You still there?” She gave the weapon one last pat. “Yes.” While she had this man on the line, there was something she needed to know about the man assigned to protect her. “What's Ryker’s first name?” “T.'s?” “Yeah. It can't be just T, so what is it?” “Don’t know. He’s always been just T. to me. Don’t tell him I called. It'll just piss him off that you picked up his cell. I’ll try again later. Do what the man says and you’ll get where you’re supposed to be going, ma’am.” Click. The bathroom door creaked, and Ana placed the phone where she’d found it. Ryker came out, dressed in a black t-shirt and worn but nicely fitting jeans. His feet were bare. The man’s feet—quite like the rest of him—were absolutely perfect, especially considering he was a male specimen. 94

Satisfying the Curse He gave her a curious look. Deciding to go right to the source, Ana asked, “So what does the T. stand for?” “What?” he grumbled, and not offering her another glance, he walked over to his bag, fetched a pair of socks, and sat in the chair. “What's your name?” Ryker continued to ignore her as he donned his socks. “Hey, T.” She placed purposeful emphasis on the consonant, and it worked. He stabbed her with those hard, black eyes. “I don’t use my first name,” he said as he leaned back in the chair. “I told you to call me Ryker, and that’s all you need to know.” “Why don’t you use your first name? What is it? Thaddeus? Theodore? Titan?” She sneered. “Terror?” “No,” he flatly responded, obviously not amused, and pulled on his shoes. “Then what is it?” For some reason, the mere fact that he wouldn’t tell her was driving her crazy. The man was so closed, so secretive, and she was dead set on breaking down some of those thick walls. “Okay.” She hugged the sides of her hips with her hands. “What does your mom call you? I can't imagine it’s T.” His eyes darkened. “My mother called me by my first name for the whole nine years of my life that she was alive. No one has called me that since.” “Oh.” Her heart squeezed. She shouldn’t have pushed him. “I'm sorry. I didn’t know.” He stood up. “Nothing to be sorry about,” he said matter-offactly. He walked over to the dresser, checked his phone, shoved it in his pocket, snagged his gun, and gave her a sideways glance as he placed the weapon in the back of his jeans. “I haven’t missed her one day since she killed herself.” Ana was standing less than a foot from Ryker when he made the admission, and her belly tightened. Reaching out to him was her first instinct, but the chill in his eyes froze her hands to her hips. “Ryker,” she whispered. “Come on. Let's go,” he instructed as his wide shoulders twisted.

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Her hands instantly defrosted. She reached out and touched his arm. He followed her heartfelt contact with his gaze, which lingered on the hand that was holding his arm. With his face grave and his strong jaw squared, he lowered his lids, as if her touch pained him. “Ryker,” she said, exhaling his name again. “Juliana,” he said between thinned lips, “remove your hand.” He lifted his lids, and his dark lashes soared upward. A blatant threat had burrowed into his eyes. Ana wasn’t about to back down. Apparently, his mother was a touchy subject, a vulnerability he obviously didn’t want to compromise, but this was the closest she'd been to him in days. Although it was the unpleasant conversation that had brought her to him, something he didn’t want to discuss, she adamantly refused to remove her hand from his body. “Juliana,” he warned under a ragged, profound breath. She decided to change the subject to a more uncomfortable one for her. “Why haven't you touched me?” She held his vacant glare and felt his brachioradialis muscle roll beneath her hand. “You wanted me the other night. I felt it. I saw it in your eyes.” His hand came up and clasped her behind the neck. His eyes scaled her face. “I do want you.” They lingered on her lips, and she had to catch her breath when his gaze drifted back to hers. A potent heat and rage flowed from him. It shot straight into her. “But as much as I might want you,” he said, “there is no way in hell I’m screwing Warren Pritchard's daughter.” Her knees went weak. She realized he despised her because of Daddy Pritchard. The thought of his narrow-mindedness brought her defenses alive. “I can't help who my father is, any more than you could help who your mother was.” “No.” He ignored the prying jab, placed his not-so-gentle hand around her waist and yanked her against his hard body. “But you can help your father stay out of jail so you can get your money, can't you, baby doll?” His words were packed with disdain, his body rigid with cogent strain, and his eyes irate with contempt as he tightened his grip on her.

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Satisfying the Curse “You don’t know anything about me! You can think what you want about me, Agent T. Ryker, but let me tell you this one thing. I wouldn’t lie for my father.” “Then tell me what you're going to say when you take the stand,” he challenged. His eyes were severe. He'd already judged, convicted, and locked her up with Daddy Pritchard, but Ana didn’t feel the need to explain herself to anyone. Not to the reporters, and certainly not to Agent Ryker. She tilted up on her toes to meet him eye to eye. “Like everyone else, you'll have to wait and find out, won't you?” The threat in his eyes was deadlier than ever, even though Ana knew in her gut that he’d never really hurt her. Sure, he might say something awful, but he’d never physically harm her. A dangerous smile curved his lips just the same. “Oh, sweetheart, you're gonna tell me before you get up on that damn stand.” She let out a snort. “You sound so sure of yourself. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not discussing the case with anyone. Not even you.” He swept her up into his arms and carried her over to the bed, where he dropped her down. With a loud huff, Ana pushed her hands against the mattress to get up. Just who did he think he was, tossing her around like a ragdoll? Her thoughts dissipated when Ryker took his shirt off and threw it on the floor, then unbuttoned his jeans and removed them and his boxers in one swift moment. There he was, naked, beautiful, perfect, and impressively aroused, and she had to tell her mouth to close before drool started to drip down her chin. “Wha— What are you—?” she stuttered. He climbed over her and pushed her onto the bed, flat onto her back. “One thing I most certainly am, Juliana, is sure of myself.” He captured the next sass about to come out of her mouth by crashing his own lips onto hers, plunging his tongue, with greed and demand, inside her mouth. Ana was helpless. She opened for him and fell into sync with his hostile and brutal kiss.

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His hips pressed against hers, and his thick hardness was making its impression on her pliable and needy body. She arched to get closer to it, to him. She wanted him inside her, longed to know what he would feel like buried deep inside. He pulled up her dress and tore off her panties. “Yes,” she gasped. “Oh, Ryker, yes! Take me! Take me right now!” she moaned out, half-believing it was her voice, her cries and pleads. Her hands fell to his back. She slid down and filled them with his strong gluteus. His ass was firm, and the muscles flexed and loosened as he pumped against her. “You drive me insane, Juliana Pratt.” He skimmed her ear with his hot words and moved to kiss her neck. “God, I want you so bad, baby.” His hand slipped beneath her top, past her bra to her swollen breast, which he cupped, massaged, and tugged. Ana tilted her hips, searching for his fullness, for his engorged phallus. Restlessly, she writhed, and then she felt it. He entered her thick, hard, and powerful—not completely and just barely, but he was there at the start of her aching opening. “Shit,” he groaned, and his body went stiff. “Juliana—” He pressed his palms against the bed. His elbows straightened as he jolted upright. He was immobile, still sitting full and erect at the start of her vagina. He gazed down at her. There was no mistaking his desire, his feral need, but he withdrew from her. She panicked, and then he settled back inside a bit farther. He shuddered. “Shit, Juliana, you feel too damn good.” His eyes closed, and his face contorted, almost as if he was in pain. He grimaced and threw his head back. Is he hurting or just stressed? Was she doing something wrong? “Ryker?” she said hesitantly, trying to move her hips to catch a rhythm. But she was a novice at this dance. His head snapped back down, and he looked at her. “Stop. Don't move.” She obeyed. His aggressive and savage eyes lightened, and an unruly closed-mouth smile appeared. “You want me to take your virginity, Juliana?” She didn’t even need to think about it. The word flew from her in a hiss, “Yes.”

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Satisfying the Curse He pulled back from her heat. “Tell me what you're gonna say on that stand.” He dipped back in. She cried out. If this was what an inch felt like, she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to handle all of him. Looking into his eyes, she realized that if she didn’t answer his question, she would never find out. “Don't—” Her hands moved up his back, and she grasped his strong shoulders. Shaking her head, she pleaded, “Don’t make this about anything else. Just take me, Ryker. Please.” His eyes darkened. “Answer me.” “I need you. I can't take it anymore. It can only be you. Don't you understand? I want no one else. This moment, I want to remember it being with you.” Something broke in him, and she saw it as clear as the disdain, as dark as the anger he usually contained. He dropped his head down to her chest. “You're not going to tell me, are you?” he mumbled against her heated flesh. “No,” she said. Her hands fell from his shoulders onto the bed. Her body chilled when he rolled off and landed with a heavy thump next to her. Good one, T. He overestimated his charms and underestimated Juliana Pratt's determination. She wasn’t gonna talk, and there was no way he could endure another round of blue balls. Torturing yourself? Nice fuckin’ goin‘, man. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he would have followed through and taken her virginity, even if she had told him the truth. Regardless, he was again left with a raging and unsatisfied hard-on, and he was quickly finding out that a Julianainduced hard-on was like none other. It reminded him of what he felt for her, and that went way beyond hormones, urges, and sex. He could try and fight it until the trial, but the truth was—Pritchard put away for life or not—he cared about Juliana Pratt. She said she wanted only him to be the one to deflower her. He wanted the same thing. The idea of another man touching her sent him into some kind of animalistic frenzy. To a dangerous place inside, a cage he chose to keep locked up. Ryker knew that no matter what disciplines he prided himself on, Juliana was eventually going to break him. To reconnect his blood with his father's, the rapist’s. He feared the sinful, tainted blood 99

running through his veins would devour and destroy Juliana's sweet and pure virtue. He was defenseless against it, against her, but he had to be strong. He couldn’t allow himself to become a savage and surrender to the temptation and the inferno in his pants. Wait it out, T, he told himself. Just wait for the trial, see what happens, and find out what she’s going to do. Maybe she’s not a money-hungry bitch. Maybe there’s another reason she’s doing whatever the hell it is she’s doing. Ryker looked over at her. Her come-hither eyes looked almost loving. He could only pray Juliana wasn’t what she seemed. He placed his hands over his face. With his cock still standing at attention, he groaned. He felt pressure around his shaft and lifted his fingers from his eyes. Juliana had his erection in her small hand! He stared at her, afraid to say anything, afraid to tell her to stop. He needed that release. Like a self-seeking cad, he watched and failed to utter so much as a word as she started to stroke him. Oh, man, am I a fucking asshole. “Juliana,” he groaned, selfishly needing her to continue. “Baby, your hand feels good on me.” She recessed a bit, somewhat shy. “Don't fucking stop now,” he said with a growl. “Am I doing it right?” Her voice was shaky, her eyes apprehensive. “Am I hurting you?” Beautiful, bashful, sexy, and bold. God, he needed this woman. “No, you’re not hurting me,” he assured her. “Anything you do to me is more than all right. Touch me any way you want, Juliana. Believe me, my body will react to it appropriately.” She smiled at his comment, a lighthearted jest from their first meeting. “I don’t want you to feel appropriate.” She picked up the stroking. “I want you wild and cumming in my hand.” No doubt reciting a line from a porno she’d seen, he thought, moaning with pleasure. His hips flexed, and then he pumped into her hand. “Keep talking like that, and that’s exactly what you’ll get.” “What I really want—” she teased, lowering her head to the tip of his cock. She fisted him, looked up with those green, seductive eyes and said, “What I really want, Agent T. Ryker, is you inside me.”

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Satisfying the Curse His throbbing head disappeared into her mouth, and his body quivered. Her gaze delved to the center of his open heart. Son-of-abitch! He wanted to be deep inside her too. He surged up, and she took him to the back of her throat. A sound resembling an animal, a bear, lion, beasts of all beasts, rumbled from the bellows of his chest. “You have no idea— how bad I want to give that to you.” Damn! Did that really just slip out of his mouth? She hadn’t missed a beat, just gazed hungrily up at him as she caressed him with her tongue, lips, and mouth. Her silence was deafening, her lack of response breathtaking. He told himself not to think about it. Just to take the gift she was offering him. “Juliana!” He threw his hands back and grabbed for the headboard, holding on for dear life. His body grew taut, and his muscles gathered and pulled up, fighting to break free of his skin. “I'm—” Oh, T., you're gonna cum harder than you ever have in your whole damn life. “Baby, oh—baby, baby.” His hips jammed forward. Fuck! He couldn’t talk. What the hell is wrong? I can’t— I— Damn, get it together, T. “Juliana, I'm gonna let go. You might wanna—” Blood rushed to the tip of his head. When her mouth left him, he thought he'd get a reprieve, be able to pull back and speak a complete sentence, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. “Why?” She watched her own hand slide up and down over him. Her gaze slowly rose to his, and the sexiest smile glowed upon her face. “Don’t you want to cum in my mouth?” Uh, hell yeah! Ryker's hands tightened on the headboard. She lowered her head again to his swollen, beating erection. The contact of her lips stole every last stitch of his willpower. His muscles released from their contracted state, and every ounce of his energy swarmed to his cock in a fluent rush. He cried out her name, “Juliana!” He reached out and fisted her hair in his hands. Then he shuddered, convulsed, and climaxed. “Fuck, that's it, baby. Take it all!” Sweet, sweet Juliana milked him until there was nothing left. Until he relinquished his discipline. She had sneaked in and made herself at home while his defenses were down. Yes, Juliana Pratt had reached right into him and had stolen a little piece of his heart. 101

Damn her, he thought, and damn you for letting her, he scolded his hungry libido. She crawled over him, rested her body on his, and laid her head on his winded chest. Impulsively, he ran his fingers through her long, love-tousled hair. The swell of her breasts cushioned upon his warm flesh, and she painted his skin lightly with the tips of her fingers. “I need to tell you something, Ryker. I—” “Shh.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her tiny ear. He wrapped his arms around her delicate frame. He had no idea what she was about to say, and he didn’t want to risk ruining this amazing moment. If she meant to confess anything, peculiarly enough, he was not in any mood to hear it. There would be time for that later. Minutes went by with Juliana in his arms. Lying naked on his body, she fit like his favorite pair of Levis, molded and relaxed, perfect and natural. She seemed content and comfortable, stroking his chest. It was finally back to rising and falling at its normal pace. She swirled a finger around his nipple, playing and toying with it like a child exploring a new toy. “Ryker.” Her voice vibrated right through him until it reached his heart. “If your mom passed away when you were nine, who raised you?” He debated talking about his life. The only time he’d discussed his aunt was in the context of trial. “My mother's sister,” he found himself answering. “Actually, she got custody of me when I was five.” “Five?” “Yeah.” His hand drifted, trailing down her delicate spine to the low of her back. “My mom was, well, she was sick.” It sounded better than the truth. The woman was a lush, a pathetic drunk at best. “Oh,” she said. “Tell me about your aunt.” “An amazing woman, loving, strong, and honest. She was more of a mom to me than my birth mother. She was a P.I. and believed in finding out the truth, regardless of what it was—good or bad. She was the one who inspired me to go to college and become a lawyer.” 102

Satisfying the Curse “Was? That amazing woman was a mom to you?” she muttered. “Wait, Ryker.” She stopped and tilted her head to look up at him. Yeah, she gets it. Her eyes glistened. “Where is your aunt now?” “Dead.” “Oh.” Her green eyes crystallized. Was she going to cry? He supposed someone should. He wasn't shedding a damn tear until the bastard who killed her was put away forever. “I'm sorry. How did she—how did it happen?” He peered down at her face and her sincere expression. God, you are so beautiful. “It makes no difference how she died. She's not here, but unlike my mother,” he said, swallowing back an unexpected hurt, “I miss my aunt every day.” After a painfully long stare, Juliana's head lowered. She went back to stroking his tense body. “Do you have any other family? Sisters or brothers or anyone?” “No. My grandmother died before I was born. My grandfather lives in a nursing home. Alzheimer's. He doesn't even know who I am.” “And your father?” “Don't have one.” Her head snapped back, and she squinted at him doubtfully. “Everyone has a father.” He pulled his hands up her long, slender back and ran a finger along her cheek. “I guess I'm the exception to the rule.” “Yes,” she said with a pretty gesture, “you most certainly are.” Her gaze slithered over to his arm. “What's up with the tattoo? Why outline your cephalic, median cubital, basilica—” “Veins,” he said, and then smiled lightly. “Juliana, they're just veins to me.” “Yes. I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget to censor my words, but using them helps me keep the terms fresh in my mind. I like to think I’m always studying and learning new things.” “What are you studying for?” Her smile widened. “Oh no,” she accosted. “Don’t go trying to change the subject. Now spill it. What’s up with that tattoo?” 103

Ryker felt her smile and her demanding tone all the way to the very toes she’d curled the living hell out of just moments ago. Returning to her with his own wayward grin, Ryker told her the truth. “It reminds me of who I am.” “And who are you?” “Princess, I can assure you that I'm not someone you want to know.” “Let me be the judge of that,” she fired back. He chuckled. “Save your judgment. We've got a few more days together, and then we'll be going our separate ways.” With a frustrated “Humph,” she dropped her head again to his chest. “Ryker, what can I do to get you to take care of this curse for good. You know. To get you to make love to me?” Love? A dangerous word, especially with her lying naked on top of him. Her essence dripped into his heart like a slow leak. “I'm not the lovemaking kinda guy, and I’ve told you more than once that I never have sex with virgins. So I’m afraid you’re out of luck.” “Why are you so against having sex with a virgin? They're clean, free of sexual disease. There are no preconceived expectations, so you can do whatever you want. They're inexperienced and wouldn’t know any better, and—” “What? Stop being ridiculous, Juliana. Do you really think I need a woman to be inexperienced before I can pleasure her?” Her cheeks flushed. “Okay. I suppose you're right. I'm just saying—” “I know what you're getting at, but see, it’s that purity of yours I’m not inclined to fuck with, Princess. I'm just not the one who should be your first.” “That choice should be mine, not yours,” she argued. “Perhaps, but it does take two to tango, and I'm not interested in doing any kind of tango with you, let alone making love with anyone. So you might as well get that out of your head right now. It's not gonna be me, Princess. Not by a long shot.” “There's got to be something I can do to change your mind.” “Short of not being a virgin, there's nothing you can do.” “Not being a virgin? Hmm—”

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Satisfying the Curse She had tried to mumble the semi-threat under her breath, but Ryker heard it. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, and her eyes seemed to hiss at him with a dark green fury from his brutal response to her words. “Don't get any ideas,” he warned. Thinking about her with another man awakened a bully in his heart and stirred something savage in his already contaminated veins. “Ha!” She tried to jerk her head away from his grasp, but he refused to let her go. “You're not my boss!” She glared up at him, and when she gave up her fight, she informed him, “I'll get any damn idea I want!” “The fuck you will.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up his body, taking her mouth to his with all the aggression of his need, his want, and his blinded jealousy. If he had anything to say about it—and he did—Juliana was never going to touch another man. It just wasn’t going to happen. Fuck! He silently cursed, fully aware that staking a claim like that would ultimately get Juliana Pratt exactly what she wanted—him helplessly inside her body and her deeply lodged in his heart.

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Chapter Ten Ryker stood against the wall, waiting for Juliana to finish with her interview. They had five more days together, and over the past few nights, he'd grown accustomed to sleeping with her curled in his arms. He was pleased with himself for being strong enough to resist succumbing to his tempting desires, but he had felt himself slipping away from his oath. Every single night she taunted him, trying to get him to touch her, to play with her sexy curse, but he held firm—in more places than one—and refused to surrender to the damn little temptress. He shook his head and took his phone out of his pocket. There were other things to worry about besides Juliana’s horny curse. He punched in a few numbers. “Hey, Bucky. Any news on my assignment's attacker?” “Yeah,” Bucky chimed in on the line. “Want the good news first, or the bad news?” Ryker already knew what the bad news was. They had to let the perp who attacked Juliana at the motel go free. NESA didn’t have any authority to arrest the guy. If that was the bad news, the good news had to be that they were able to get some information out of him first. They probably used it as a wager, promising not to turn his sorry ass over to the cops after he’d pulled a gun on Juliana. It really didn’t matter who the perp was. He was a cog in a much bigger wheel. All NESA cared about was who hired him—who ordered the attack and why. “Give me the good news first,” he said. If he could get a handle on who was after Juliana, it would make his job of protecting her a whole lot easier. “You’re not going to believe this,” said Bucky. “Just spill it, buddy.” “Fine. The guy was hired by none other than Warren Pritchard.” “Her own damn father,” Ryker said in disbelief. “Yep. The perp was supposed to make sure she would follow through with the agreement that she and Pritchard made for the 106

Satisfying the Curse trial. Said if it seemed like she wasn’t, he was supposed to, uh, well, take her out.” “And just exactly what is expected of her?” Ryker already knew the answer, but he needed to hear someone else say it. “Something about being his alibi.” Bucky said. “Damn it! The little bitch is gonna say she was with Pritchard on the day of Janie Crawford's murder.” Ryker glanced up at Juliana, who was smiling at one of the cameramen. The deceitful bitch appeared so sweet, so innocent. A sudden pain pierced straight into Ryker's chest. “Have there been any more attacks since then?” Bucky asked. “No.” “Well, then I think it’s safe to assume that good ol’ Daddy Pritchard believes his little girl, your assignment, is going to follow through with their agreement.” Ryker pushed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it would seem so. Fuck!” The pain in his chest was now heavy, almost suffocating him. “What's she got to say about it? Have you asked her?” “Yes, but she just keeps saying she plans on telling the truth, whatever the hell that means.” “Hmm.” Bucky’s surmise sounded through the line. “Ya know, T., she might be telling the truth. Maybe she was with Pritchard on the day of the murder. Did you ever consider that?” “No. Pritchard killed Janie Crawford. It doesn’t add up any other way.” But he feared that Ana's innocent face, warm green eyes, and sweet smile would easily win over the hearts of the jury. Damn! The deceitful bitch, in some sick and twisted sort of way, had even won over a small piece of his own heart—a nearly impossible task. Now, his already weakened heart was breaking from the news Bucky was giving him. Bucky was right. If Pritchard hasn’t bothered to put out any more hits on his daughter—the sick fuck—then she was probably going to protect his ass by perjuring herself in court. Fuck! So greedy for Daddy’s money, she was gonna sell that monster his getout-of-jail-free card. But even now, as Ryker watched her, he felt an undeniably strong bond to her. Even after all was said and done, he sensed—and feared—that he would still want her because of it. 107

“So,” Bucky's voice broke into the line, “what’re you gonna do?” “What do you mean?” Ryker retorted. “I’ve got an assignment to do, and I’ll be done with her five days from now, and—” “Come on, T. That's not what I'm talking about. All bullshit aside, I know Janie Crawford is, er, was your aunt, and I also know you got it bad for Juliana Pratt. I can’t say I blame you, but—” “What the hell are you talking about?” Ryker barked. Of course he knew very well Bucky wasn’t talking about his aunt, but frankly he wasn’t prepared for this, especially coming from Bucky, of all people. Shit! He was having a hard time accepting that he was falling for his assignment, and all this just amplified the mess. “Look, I called you a few days ago. She answered the phone. You're a damn good agent, and you’d never leave your phone lying around for your assignment to pick up. That’s NESA 101, man, unless you were incapacitated or severely distracted. She said you were in the shower, so—well, I assume the latter. What are ya gonna do about it?” “I'm not gonna do anything about anything. There's nothing going on. I assure you I’ve got a handle on the situation. My priorities are straight, as always, and—” “All right, all right!” Bucky chuckled into the phone. “Just don’t go pulling a Maddox on me, okay? I’m not lookin‘ to lose another good agent to a bad case of the damn love bug,” “Love? What the hell, Bucky? Fuck! Don’t say shit like that to me. I know all about Tantum Maddox and Nala Dekker. I used to work with Nala, and—” “Yeah, so you know the situation’s not so different.” “Yeah, but there are some big differences. I’m not a loving kind of guy and I have no fucking plans to become one. Juliana Pratt’s got nothin‘ I need.” “Maybe nothing you need, but I’m sure she’s got something you want. Just watch yourself, T.” “Screw you.” “Okay, okay, whatever you say,” Bucky said, failing to pacify him. “Just tell me where to deliver my assignment when I'm through. It’s only a few days from now, and I still haven't been given a location.” 108

Satisfying the Curse “And you won't until that day.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” “I don’t know the location, and I won't until after her last interview in Virginia. At which point I will forward the information to you.” “This sucks,” Ryker muttered and clicked the phone off. As Juliana sauntered over to him, he attempted to compose himself. “What's wrong?” she earnestly asked, stopping in front of him. “Nothin‘,” he snapped, still feeling the sting of Bucky’s verbal slap across his face. “You done here? Ready to go?” She placed a defiant hand on her hip. “Don’t lie to me. There's something wrong. Who were you talking to?” “My AC, Bucky.” He reached out and apprehended her elbow. “Now let's go.” He steered her toward the exit. Her steps slowed. He stopped and looked at her. She nibbled her lowered lip. “I'm sorry I answered your phone the other day,” she nervously said. Her gaze scampered guiltily around the room. “I should have told you, but Bucky warned me it wasn’t a good idea. He said you'd be angry, and I can see now that he was right.” “He said that, did he?” Fucking Bucky. “Yes, but I see it was wrong, lying to you. I don’t want you to be upset with me, Ryker. I truly am sorry.” “Why?” “Because—” She glanced up at him with her big, beautiful eyes. “I care what you think. I don’t want you to think I'd lie to you. I, um, care about you, so—” “Don't.” “Everyone needs someone to care about them, Ryker.” “Well, as we’ve already established, I’m the exception to the rule,” he flatly said. “Right,” she snidely remarked, the cut apparent in her eyes. “Damn right, Princess, and I don’t need you getting any ideas about us running off into the damn sunset together on your daddy’s dirty dime.” He glared back at her and swallowed hard, trying to build up the courage to say what was about to come out of him next. “I don’t care about you. You're an assignment to me, Juliana, and

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anything I've done to you or with you has only been to cure that crazy curse of yours. Just part of my job.” The hurt in her eyes was swiftly replaced with anger. “You're a very cruel person, Agent T. Ryker. I'm not asking you to fall in love with me. I worry about you, that’s all.” Her eyes shot darts at him, wounding him more than he let on. “You're so cold and heartless! I can't believe I thought you even had a heart in that hollow chest of yours.” Ryker didn’t like the obvious hurt he’d caused her. The hatred in her eyes traveled the length of his rigid body. It pierced to his aching but very alive heart. He wanted to soothe her, to confess what he had so vehemently been trying to deny. The truth was, he cared about her too, but he shouldn't. He had betrayed her by not telling her about his aunt, and what had really happened to her. He had no plans to inform Juliana of the truth, even though that was what he expected from her. Truth. He couldn’t influence or coerce her. When the time came, he needed to know if she was going to be honest. A part of him had to know if she would get up on that stand and tell the truth because she was a good and decent person, and not just because she cared about him. He smiled at her. “You caught me. Heartless and cold. Now,” he said, holding the door open, “let's get the fuck out of here.” Juliana pushed past him and walked out into the sunlight. She was too proud and stubborn to allow his words to cut her down. He followed her, feeling like an ass for hurting her with his callousness. “Ana!” Juliana raised a hand and waved as she ran over to the man calling her name. “Shawn!” Ryker's eyes snapped to the left, where the male voice had come from. He made a beeline toward them. Attack mode switched on when she threw her arms around the stranger. The man picked her up and swung her in a circle before placing her feet back on the ground. Ryker moved without thought. He wedged himself between the cozy reunion and pushed Juliana behind him. The guy was a couple

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Satisfying the Curse inches shorter than Ryker's six-one, but he managed to meet the agent’s heated gaze. “Who the hell are you?” Ryker demanded. Ana grabbed his biceps in an attempt to move him. “Ryker, stop it!” He ignored her as both men stood face to face, stuck in a staredown from hell. The man cocked a brow, and his brown eyes smiled with confidence. “I'm Shawn Owens, a friend of Ana's. And who the hell might you be?” Juliana's head popped around Ryker's shoulder. “He's been assigned to protect me.” Ryker gave her a sideways glance. “And, Agent T. Ryker, you are being very rude. Shawn is a friend of mine. He's not a threat, so back off!” Shawn’s eyes lightened as he looked at Juliana. “Protect you? Why? Are you in danger? What’s going on, Ana? Are you okay?” The concern in his voice piqued Ryker’s rage. The man obviously cared about Juliana, but unlike Ryker, he had no problem showing it. Did he have the right to begrudge Juliana the presence of someone who cared about her? Anyone besides himself? Ryker decided to step to the side. “I’m okay.” Juliana sighed, no doubt relieved by Ryker's retreat. “It's my father's high-profile case. He's worried about it and assigned a bodyguard to me.” What was that about, Ryker wondered. Warren Pritchard didn’t order the protection. Doesn’t she know who really ordered it? Apparently Daddy had been filling his little princess’s pretty head with all kinds of bullshit. “Oh, yeah. That's coming up, isn’t it?” Shawn glanced back and forth between Ryker and Juliana. “Next week,” she said with a wave of her hand, “but enough about that. So what are you doing here?” “Michelle Brooks, my sister-in-law, works here. She said you were scheduled for an interview today, and she let me come in to see the taping. I thought I'd surprise you and see if I can talk you

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into coming to my brother's tonight for a party. Linda Cameron will be there.” Juliana's eyes widened. “Linda Cameron? Really?” “Yep. I talked to her about what you're doing, and she's very interested. She wants me to introduce you tonight, and you know what that means.” “More money! Gosh, Shawn. Of course I’ll come. Thanks!” Ryker reckoned that if he hadn’t been standing there, Juliana would have jumped the man for another hug. “Hey, we're in this together,” Owens said with a twinkle in his eyes. Oh yeah, this guy’s damn good, Ryker thought. That damn smile of his was so warm it would melt an ice glacier. “You're still meeting Wendy Gates in a few weeks to sign the contract for the house, right?” Owens asked. House? Juliana was planning on buying a house with her bribe money? “Uh-huh, on August 13. I'm so happy everything is falling into place. I just need to get through my father's trial, and then we'll be on our way. I can't tell you how much it means to me that you're going to be there.” Owens was going to move in with her? What was that all about? “How could I resist?” Owens chided. Resist? What the hell was he talking about? Juliana? Ryker's blood heated. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought the two were lovers. But Juliana was a virgin. Nevertheless, it sure sounded to him like they were lovers, and after the trial, Owens and Juliana—his Juliana—were going to run away together. Was she using her bodyguard to take care of the curse so she could be with this guy? His blood went from hot to boiling. “Ryker?” Juliana was looking at him, waiting for an answer, but if she’d asked him anything, he hadn’t heard her. “Do you think we can go tonight?” Absolutely. He would drag her to that party if he had to, because he needed to find out what was going on between Owens and Juliana. The threat on her life seemed to be nullified anyway,

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Satisfying the Curse because she was cooperating with Pritchard. Ryker casually shrugged, “Sure.” She tilted her head and inquired cautiously, “Really?” “Yes.” He bent his head and looked at her skeptical face. “Really.” “G-great,” she stammered and looked over at Owens. “So I guess we'll see you tonight.” Juliana started toward him, arms outstretched as if she meant to give her friend a hug. Ryker snatched her around the waist and pulled her against him as if she were his property. The bitch might be thrilled about getting more money into her greedy little hands and running off with Shawn Owens, but he wasn’t about to let her touch the man again. Not now, and if he had anything to do with it, not ever. Shawn Owens took a step toward them as Juliana wiggled to break free from Ryker's tight hold. Owens gave him a quick onceover before he settled his eyes upon Ryker's and stopped. As if he was absorbing the sight of Ryker claiming Juliana as his own, a strange endearing expression lit up Owen’s face. His warm brown eyes softened, and Ryker was rendered very uncomfortable, though not intimidated by any means. “Ana, I can see you are in very capable hands,” Owens said, holding that menacing but discerning smile. “I'll send you the address and see you tonight.” Juliana's struggles to break free subsided. She leaned back into Ryker's body as they watched Shawn Owens walk away. Ryker leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Juliana, you should have told me you were in love with someone. Things might have gone a lot different for you.” Her body stiffened against his. “Different how?” Her voice cracked, and so did Ryker's heart from the omission. “Princess, had I known you needed to break the curse so you could be with another man, I might have had no problem fucking you. Maybe more than once.” She bent back and looked up at him, her eyes glossy and hooded. “You wouldn't care if I was in love with someone?” Ryker's hand shook when he lifted it. He prayed she hadn’t seen it as he slipped it across the front of her neck. “Why would I care, Juliana?” He lied. He wanted nothing more than to kill Owens and 113

then run away from Juliana and what he felt for her. Neither option was feasible, so he did the only thing that would soothe his hurt and rage. Ryker kissed her. This man, Ana decided, was more confusing than the nervous system from the CNS to the PNS. Did he really think she was in love with Shawn Owens? In any case, Ryker knew exactly how to ignite her limbic system, the part of the brain responsible for emotions. He could ignite it and send it shivering through her complicated nervous system. She only wished she really was in love with Shawn. The gentle doctor would be excellent relationship material. But instead, she had to fall for the incorrigible, maddening, but sexy Agent T. Ryker. Truly, after eight years of college, she’d have thought she’d be intelligent enough to know that a man like Ryker was difficult to catch, let alone to keep. Wait. If Ryker thought she was in love with Shawn, why did he kiss her? Why didn’t he allow her to give Shawn a goodbye hug? Ryker was a conundrum all his own, and it was past time for her to put on her thinking cap the agent’s objectives. There had to be more than met the eye here. He was hiding something from her, and she intended to find out what it was. Ana put a light shade of maroon on her lips, smoothed them together, and walked out of the bathroom. Ryker stood in front of the large window with his back to her. “Are you almost ready?” she asked. He turned around, smacking her with that handsome face and his starlit, arrogant presence, one that constantly called for attention. His hand cupped his chin. He stroked it thoughtfully as his gaze slithered up and down her body. Another shiver skidded not down, but up her back this time. He moved a few steps closer to her and paused. His intense gaze became hooded, seductive. “Esti atat de frumoasa.” His tone was deep and husky. Ana blinked, attempting to banish the hypnotizing effect he had on her. She needed to know what he had said. She went over to her iTouch and looked for a translator, hoping she could figure out how to spell what he’d said. “Juliana.” Now he was standing beside her, his large hand covering hers. “Put that thing down.” Caught up in his drawing gaze, she obeyed. 114

Satisfying the Curse “You don’t need to look it up,” he said and placed an arm around her, pulling her against his hard body. “I will tell you what I said.” “You will?” Her heart slammed against her chest, and she was so close to him, she worried he'd feel it. “Yes,” he said. He lingered upon her mouth, then ran a finger over her trembling lower lip. He looked up at her, and the waiting tore her up until she started to fall apart. “I said, ‘You are so beautiful.’” She was sure pieces of her were now lying on the floor. She heard the sincerity in his tone and saw the unlocked desire in his eyes. “Ryker….” His name came out as a breathless whisper. He stared at her with that cocky but inspiring expression, fully aware he had her right where he wanted her. Here sensibility woke up. Anger brewed, and her confusion heightened. One second he was shutting her down, and in the next, he was telling her she was beautiful. He infuriated her on so many levels. “There's seriously something wrong with you,” she muttered aloud. His eyes smoldered, and he wore a sexy grin. “Why? Because even after discovering you're in love with another man, I still want you?” “Uh,” she answered condescendingly, “well, yeah, for starters.” “Believe me, Juliana, if you weren’t a virgin, I'd put a scream in your throat and bury myself in that sweet pussy of yours.” She gasped. In her whole life, no man had ever spoken so candidly to her. She found she liked it. It had, in Josie's definition, thoroughly turned Ana on. He leaned close to her mouth. “Isn't that what you want?” Ana decided she was through wilting from the man's voice, from a look of those heated eyes, and from the feel of his torrid body pressed against hers. She was through with surrendering to his fickle whims. Either he wanted her or he didn’t. It was time to fight fire with fire, time to toss the extinguisher out for good. She let a slow and provocative smile curve her lips. “Do you really need to ask? Are you trying to tell me you don’t already know what I want?” “Oh, I know what you want, Juliana, maybe even better than you do.” His hand slid up her back and clasped the nape of her neck. 115

She could only assume the spot was a point of control for him, because he always grabbed her there whenever he felt he was losing control. “You can have your money, and you can have Shawn Owens, but there's one thing you can't have. You will never have—” “If you're going to say it's you, then let me stop you right there. Personally, Ryker, I'm getting a little bored with your indecisiveness.” His jaw tightened, and his left eye twitched. Without showing it, Ana cringed on the inside. She certainly had hit a nerve. His lips thinned. Oh, yeah, she’d hit it good and hard, and she had every intention of slamming the hell out of it. Ana placed her hand on his chest. “Besides, let's face it, if I really wanted you—” She slid her hands over his strong, heaving chest down to his taut stomach muscles, lower to the impressive bulge in his pants. She squeezed his arousal and leaned in until she was a mere breath from his tight lips. “We both know I could have you.” Ryker placed his hand over hers and pressed harder against his engorged erection. “Yeah, but what are you prepared to give up for it?” His eyes searched hers. “Shawn Owens, your virginity, your precious fucking money?” His sneer softly brushed her mouth. Holding her smile was difficult. Wilting came to mind, but she fought it and curled her fingers around the thickness beneath his jeans. He let out a small groan. It enhanced the power she had over him. “I think the bigger question here is, what are you prepared to give up? Because I believe there's only one reason you won't sleep with me, and it has nothing to do with my virginity.” “Is that right?” His cocky tone irked her, but it kept her from becoming intimidated. Setting aside her inhibitions, Ana placed her mouth against his. Softly pressing and releasing, she nibbled his lower lip and then, with much effort, she withdrew. His nostrils flared, and she slyly smiled. “You're afraid, Agent T. Ryker, that you'll actually fall for me.” 116

Satisfying the Curse He chuckled, and a short, snide grin played against his dark, feral eyes. “Don't flatter yourself,” he growled between thinned lips, the very ones that had been so pliable and warm against hers just moments earlier. She ignored his conflicting response—flustered, goaded, and sexually aroused. Ana intended to push him as far as she could. She wanted him to break, and she would enjoy watching him do the crumbling for once. “You're afraid you'll fall for me, and you're also afraid that Shawn Owens, or my so-called precious money, will then take me away from you.” His eyes tuned black, crazy, and dangerous, like a sudden summer storm on a tropical island. His hand tightened on her neck. His lip curled, and his breaths came short and fast. For the first time in Ryker's dominant hands, Ana became frightened. He grasped her by the wrists and pulled them to his chest, imprisoning her. He bent his head, gave her mouth a long, hard stare before beating her with his lethal gaze. “Don't challenge me, little girl, because the only one who will get hurt is you.” He dropped her wrists and without another word, made his way to the door. Perhaps it wasn’t the breakthrough she was looking for, but from his reaction, Ana was sure of one thing. Ryker did care for her. In her head, her common sense argued, Why else would he be so angered by my proclamations?

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Chapter Eleven Ryker stood with an arm resting on the fireplace mantel and a thumb hitched into the pocket of his jeans. Every muscle in his body had turned to stone from the sight before him. Shawn Owens had his hand on Juliana’s lower back as he escorted her through the room, stopping here and there for introductions and mingling. Charging over to the man and knocking him out cold had crossed Ryker's mind about a dozen times, but he knew that would just prove Juliana right and reveal how afraid he was of losing her to the chump. Are you scared of losing her? he asked himself. No. He’d need to actually have her before he could lose her, and he didn’t have Juliana—yet. He had to admit, though, that denying himself what he really wanted was becoming painfully difficult. Shit! He knew if he allowed the truth to surface, Juliana would have him in her power. At the least, another little piece of him like that one she’d stolen from his heart. There were about forty pretty people at the party. The women prowled the room in their low-cut dresses, their plump silicon breasts bouncing everywhere. With their flashy jewelry and fuck-me shades of lipstick, they shamelessly begged to be noticed. But not Juliana. Other than the interviews, when, he presumed, she purposely gussied up for her audience, she usually wore slacks, on occasion jeans, and a high-collared shirt. For this particular occasion, she’d selected a blouse that buttoned to her throat and a long, unrevealing skirt. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun. Even in that conservative getup, she was still the most ravishing woman in the place. Of course, it didn’t help that he knew what lay beneath her modest attire. He’d held those lush, perky breasts in his hands and felt her smooth curves pressed against his heated body. No amount of fabric could ever take that memory away from him. In his eyes—and his hands—she was absolutely faultless and sexy, school- librarian hairdo or not. 118

Satisfying the Curse When her back was turned to him, Ryker gazed at her. Overcome by her stark beauty, he wondered what it would be like to wake up every morning to her sweet smile, to have the smell of her attached to his clothes, to touch her at whim. His head berated him for the thought while his heart tightened in his chest and another part of his anatomy threatened to tighten in his crotch. His eyes drifted over to Shawn Owens. The man was returning his stare, wearing an eloquent smile while doing it. There was nothing cynical about his light brown eyes—they were almost admirable—but for some reason, even that infuriated Ryker. He couldn’t figure the guy out, and he was always suspicious of people who puzzled him. Owens lofted his beer to Ryker in a toast. Fuck. Ryker wasn't one to judge another dude, but the guy was goodlooking from his sandy-brown hair right down to his emphasized dimples. A damn real-life Ken doll—not to mention, as Ryker discovered, that he was a doctor to boot. Get a grip, T. This guy’s got nothin’ on you—well, nothin’ besides Juliana. Shit! This jealousy thing was a pain in the ass, Ryker thought as he pulled his eyes away from the two. It was either that or walk over and smash those dimples in until the good doctor had to go looking for an orthodontist. Ryker smiled when he noticed an approaching distraction, an attractive blonde in a skimpy strapless dress was slithering right up to him. “Here all alone?” she purred in a voice she had no doubt rehearsed in front of a mirror. He was sure she’d started young, because she had the husky tone down perfectly. Ryker offhandedly glanced to his left, then to his right. “It appears so,” he droned, really not in the mood to play cat-andmouse with Barbie. His lackadaisical attitude toward such a creature was very peculiar and out of character for him. She batted her long eyelashes. “I'm Lizzy Walborne.” “Ryker,” he offered. He wasn’t exactly enchanted, but it wasn’t his style to be rude. Lizzy ran her fingertip over her wine glass. “Not drinking?” “Nope.” Short and sweet. Maybe she’d get the hint. “So, how do you know Michelle and Adam?” 119

“Look,” he said, glancing down at her, “I'm not interested.” It may have been rude, but Ryker didn’t want to toy with the little blonde, although it was tempting to use Barbie, or Lisa, or Libby, or whatever her name was, to try and make Juliana suffer a little jealousy of her own. **** As promised, Shawn introduced Ana to Linda Cameron, who expressed interest in providing a donation once Juliana secured the house and could present legitimate contracts—something Ana was already working on. Linda Cameron left a business card with her. Juliana was elated that everything was falling into place. She was close to getting what she had worked so hard for. She glanced over her shoulder and her insides pulled to the center of her stomach with a pinch. There was a woman crowding the space around Ryker. She was pretty, and she had a body any healthy man would drool over. They looked perfect together. Ryker was tall, muscular, and devilishly handsome, and the woman was petite, blonde, and classy. Ana was so bothered by the sight of them close to each other that even her hair started to hurt. Her shirt began to suffocate her, and her skirt felt heavy and warm, as if she were dressed in several quilts. Juliana knew she couldn’t compete in her outfit, just one step below a nun’s habit, but she wasn't going to let that stop her from ruining Ryker's chance at getting laid. Heck, he begrudged her, and it was only fair she did the same to him. She marched over to the ideal-looking couple. Ryker's eyes followed her progress until she stood in front of them. Ana's hands came defiantly to her hips, but not wanting to appear affected by the cozy scene, she quickly dropped them to her sides. She fidgeted, not really sure what to do with them, and Ryker must have noticed, because he raised a quizzical eyebrow. She turned from his comical expression to the pretty bleach blonde, offering a casual “Hi.” “Hello,” the goddess responded, glancing between Ryker and Ana. The awkward silence was deafening.

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Satisfying the Curse “Oh.” The woman made eye contact with Ryker, and a look of understanding flashed across her face. “I'm sorry. I, uh—I didn’t know you were here with someone.” Ryker let out a short chuckle and slowly turned from Ana, resting his lazy, dark eyes upon the blonde. “I'm not,” he said, stilling Ana’s heart. “Oh, I can assure you he's not.” Ana turned to the woman. “In fact, Ryker here is an unattached and very available bachelor. You're more than welcome to do with him as you please.” She smiled with ruthless enthusiasm, and her hands again made it to her hips, this time refusing to let go. “Um—” The woman looked around the room, then down at her wine glass, clearly uncomfortable to have wandered into a soap opera she didn’t understand. “If you'll excuse me, I think I’ll get another drink.” She scurried off in her ridiculously high heels. “Now look what you've done.” Ryker grinned at Ana. “You've gone and frightened her away—and just imagine what I was going to do with her later.” “I wasn’t trying to,” Ana snidely defended. Ryker gave her a crooked grin. “Oh, okay, sweetheart. Right.” “I told you before to stop calling me those ridiculous pet names. I’m not your sweetie, your little lady, your baby face, your baby doll, or your baby anything! It makes me feel like a two-year-old. And as for pumpkins, they are a large orange fruit, an excellent source of Vitamin C and minerals like beta-carotene and potassium, but you can’t flatter a girl by calling her that! And don’t even get me started on sweetheart. Have you ever eaten a heart? It wouldn’t surprise me if you have. I haven’t, but I’m pretty certain they aren’t sweet!” Ryker's grin widened so broadly it looked like it might reach his earlobes. “That just leaves ‘princess.’” “Hmm. Well, that’s the one you seem to favor, but I promise you I am no heiress, and my father is by no means a damn king!” “Maybe not, but someday you’ll be entitled to his empire, won't you, Princess? Did you find Linda Cameron, Your Highness? Were you able to get any more money into your greedy little spoiled hands?”

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Ana, shocked he’d even remembered Linda Cameron's name from her conversation with Shawn, tried to recall everything else he might have overheard. She shook her head. It didn’t matter. Obviously he thought she was all about the money for her own selfish reasons, and that hurt more than anything else. “You might think you know me because of some file you read and a few days of traveling together, but you're wrong—dead wrong,” she assured him. She wasn’t about to offer him any excuses. “Perhaps not,” he mocked, “but I know about your nasty little curse, and I've decided I have no desire to help you cure it.” “Fine with me,” she snapped. “It'll be easy enough to find someone else, maybe right here in this room.” When Ryker thrust his hand out at her, Ana's body tensed, but he pulled back and crammed the hand into his pocket. He looked ready to attack, ready to kill. A nerve in his cheek twitched, but he stood still and inflexible. Taking the opportunity to push the needle deeper into his already pricked skin, Ana leaned in toward him. “And another thing, I don’t choose to prance around here half-naked for every man to drool over me because it’s degrading and leaves nothing to the imagination. We are not animals. Well, most of us.” Again his lips thinned, and again his eyelids dipped. Agent T. Ryker was fit to be tied. Apparently, though, he refused to untie any knot that might be binding his fixed and strict body. His lack of response concerned her, but she had to leave him with something to think about, to twist the needle and tighten that damn knot. She dropped her voice to a near whisper. “Even so, I don’t go to a party without allowing myself to feel sexy. Underneath this long skirt, I’m not wearing any panties.” And then she twirled around and walked away from him. She half expected him to stop her and half wanted him to, but as she made it across the room to Shawn and Ryker failed to come after her, her heart sank right past that modest skirt and straight down to her toes. Shawn glanced over at Ryker, then back to Ana. He smiled. “Looks like Linda Cameron is interested.” Flustered over Ryker's comment about not wanting to assist with her curse any further, about the accusations he continuously made 122

Satisfying the Curse about her money, and the way he looked at her with absolute contempt, she took a few seconds to respond. “Uh—what? Oh, yeah,” she answered, pulling out a small, tight smile. Shawn touched her arm. “What's wrong, Ana?” She brushed a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Where to begin— and should I? Shawn was a dear friend, but they rarely discussed anything personal. Still, she could use someone to talk to. Shawn's eyes sparkled mischievously. “Is it that robust concoction of muscle and bones standing over there?” He shot Ryker a quick look. “Is there something going on between the two of you?” “I thought maybe there was,” she admitted, because until that heated encounter, she honestly had thought so. “But either he's too stubborn to accept it or he truly isn't interested in me.” “Honey, he's interested,” Shawn said with an errant grin. “I don’t know. He's very perplexing. Most of the time he acts as though he can't stand to be around me.” Ana knew Ryker blamed her for Daddy Pritchard's sins, and he thought the only thing she was interested in was her father's money, but there were times when he seemed interested, even attracted to her. She was so confused. “Believe me, that man wants you. It’s easy to see in the way he looks at you, and—” “Wait,” she interrupted. “What do you mean the way he looks at me?” “His eyes have been on you all night. When he thinks you're not watching him, he's watching you. Ana, he looks at you like you're his, like you belong to him.” She let out a short, unladylike snort. “Yeah, right.” “Have you two, uh—?” Shawn paused, leaving the rest unsaid, up in the air to linger. “What?” She stared at him. “Oh, no! Um, we came close, but no. He won't give in to, well, to that.” Okay, this was strange, Ana thought, talking to Shawn—to another man—about her almost-sex with Ryker. “Maybe he just needs a little push.” 123

“Like—make him jealous?” “Yes, and for a man like that… well, let's just say I don’t think he's used to sharing, so I’m sure it wouldn’t take much.” Ana nibbled her lip. “He already thinks you and I are—that we're, ya know—” Shawn's eyes went from cunning to wide. “Did you explain to him that we're only friends?” She lowered her eyes, ashamed. “God, you're going to get my face rearranged!” Her eyes shot up at him, riddled with panic. She hadn’t considered that. Shawn didn’t appear genuinely concerned, though. “All right. Let's give this bodyguard of yours something to react to. Let's make him crazy with jealousy.” “I can't let you do that for me,” she protested, unsure if it would even work. “Don't worry about me. I may look sterile and neat, but I can handle myself. Besides, I'm a sucker for love.” He gave her a warm, heartfelt smile. “Love?” Ana knew Ryker was somewhat indecisive about whether or not he wanted her physically, but she was sure his sexual interest had nothing to do with love. “Yes, love. I'm telling you, you gotta see the way that guy looks at you. Let's go to the back study. I'm sure nobody will be in there, and I'm also pretty sure your agent will follow us. In fact, we might not even make it through the door.” Shawn placed a hand on her lower back and guided her in the right direction. He bent down to her ear and whispered, “Once we’re in there, I’ll slip out the other door. Now that I’ve thought it over, I kind of like my face the way it is.” He drew back with a mischievous wink. **** Watching Juliana and Owens disappear behind the door was like being doused with gasoline, then having a match struck and tossed at him. Ryker split open with a rage that no amount of water could tame or put out. His brain might have attempted to deter him from the immediate response, but his body moved with determination to the closed door. Pondering her threat that she'd find someone else 124

Satisfying the Curse to take care of her curse, as well as the mental images conjured by knowing she was devoid of any panties, Ryker shoved open the door like a knight come to slay the dragon before the fair maiden could be devoured. Juliana was standing in the room. She turned to him, her eyes widening. Ryker stormed inside and paced the room, searching, but she was alone. “Where is he?” “Who?” Juliana gave him a sly smirk. His nostrils flared, his chest heaved, and his throat burned and grated when he spoke. “Don’t be coy, Princess. Where the fuck is Owens?” “Oh, do be careful, Agent T. Ryker. Your alpha-male is showing.” Juliana giggled. Ryker came at her in quick strides, transforming her amused expression into fear. She back-stepped until she could go no farther. He pinned his hands on either side of her head. He pressed her against the wall with his own body. “Starting to come out?” He gazed at her trembling lips, wanting to shove himself between them. “I make it a point never to put it away,” he said and glanced back up into her dark green eyes. They were no longer frightened or petrified, but heavy and seductive. Her bewitching gaze dropped to his mouth. He strained for her touch. She licked her soft pink lips. “Just what were you expecting to find in here?” She knew full well, he was sure, what he expected to find. He was jealous, caught red-handed, and Juliana loved to watch him squirm because they both knew just how caught he was. “You don’t want me,” she said, “but you don't want anyone else to have me. Is that it?” Her smug look, coupled with her challenging words, left Ryker no other choice. “You're absolutely right.” He reached down and pulled her skirt up. His cock roared when he grabbed her naked ass. She hadn’t lied about going commando. She wrapped her leg around his thighs, close to his waist, as he grinded himself into her, digging his fingers into her soft ass.

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“I want you, Juliana,” he assured her, “and if I wanted to make you mine, there'd be no amount of money that could buy you away. No other man to steal you from me.” He claimed her mouth. He took it hard and demanding, just the way he would take her virginity if he let himself succumb to his desires, and that scared the fuck out of him. Juliana slipped her hands beneath his shirt, stroking his heated flesh. As she pulled her mouth from his, her breaths were ragged and shallow. “Then be with me, Ryker,” she whispered, her fingers raking his back as she drew him into her warmth. “If only for one night, make me yours.” He lifted his hand from the wall to brush back a strand of hair from her face. He couldn’t have her for only one night. It would be all or nothing, which was why he had held back from being with her. When it came to Juliana, his heart would triumph over his reasoning, and he knew he couldn’t trust himself. “I can’t have you because I'll hurt you,” he confided, revealing his worst fear to her. “You deserve a man who will be gentle with you your first time, and I'm not—” “I never asked for gentle. I only asked for you. I want you—tough, dominant, sexy you. I want you to be with me the way you are, whatever way you need to be.” She doesn’t get it. “When I put myself inside you, it's gonna hurt.” “Just hearing you say it,” she said, blushing, “is turning me on. But I'm already hurting, Ryker. Nothing could compare to the pain I'm feeling right now, the pain that comes from needing you so bad.” “Juliana—” He removed his hand from her backside and cupped her face with his palms. “I'm serious.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Once I'm inside you, I won't be able to restrain myself. You'll want me to stop, but I—” His tainted blood started to burn in his veins, and he couldn’t spit the words out. “You what?” “I won't stop.” He’d be just like his father. He couldn’t stop either. “I don’t want to take you against your will. I won’t. Not you,

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Satisfying the Curse Juliana. You deserve better than me, even if I can’t let anyone else have you.” “No, Ryker.” Her fingers slithered from beneath the collar of his shirt, and she wrapped her hand around his neck. “You needn't worry about that. My curse may want your body, but I am the one who needs you. Nothing you could do to me would ever have me asking you to stop. Nothing could make me want to push you away.” She was so very convincing, and he was so ready to give in. He had to turn away from her beauty to look for his strength. “I can't trust myself,” he confessed. Her hands came to the side of his face. “Look at me,” she pleaded, and when he did, her eyes were glowing with reliance. “You let me do the trusting, okay?” Was she saying she trusted him? But—how? Why would she? His heart had a total meltdown at the thought. He'd done nothing but lie to her about who he was and why he agreed to take care of her curse, yet she trusted him. At that very moment, gazing at her, Ryker suddenly didn’t care. He needed to be with Juliana, and he was going to take her back to the hotel and finally give her what she’d been begging him for. The consequences might be severe, but he’d deal with those when he got to them. He'd settle the score with his heart after the trial. He'd convince himself then that he wasn’t in love with Juliana Pratt. But tonight, he resolved, he would be with Juliana, body and soul. He would love her so fucking good.

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Chapter Twelve “I left my purse in the coatroom,” Ana said. “I'll go get it and meet you out at the car.” Ryker hesitated, but after a curt nod, he headed out the front door. She sighed, glad she would have the chance to sneak back in and thank Shawn for risking his neck—or at least his face—for her. Ana had a strong feeling, the one she recognized when he’d pressed against her body, that she was going to be with Ryker that very night. She retrieved her purse, the only valuable thing in it being her iTouch, and headed into the living area to search for Shawn. Someone directed her out to the back patio, telling her he’d had to take a call and might still be out there. It was dark and desolate outside, the only sounds a chorus of crickets, chirping along with the muffled music coming through the closed glass doors. “Shawn?” She strolled down the brick walkway, along the tall bushes. “Shawn?” Suddenly, there was a hand around her waist. “Sha—” Before she could finish saying his name, another hand came over her mouth. “Shawn's not here,” a man grunted into her ear, sending a fearful shiver up her spine. “Keep walkin‘ and don’t say a fuckin‘ word. Just do as I say, and you won't get hurt.” He pushed her forward. Her feet tripped over one another on the unfamiliar path in the darkness, but her assailant’s tight grip kept her from falling or wandering in any direction other than the way he wanted. They followed the dark path, went out the gate, and turned to the left. They walked past a meadow to a high chain-link fence. Ana could hear his heavy, erratic breaths, but she also heard heavier footsteps approaching.

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Satisfying the Curse “Fuck!” The man let her go and pulled a gun from the back of his pants. “Get your ass over that fence now or I'm gonna blow your fucking head off!” He raised the gun and pointed it at her. In no time, Ana scrambled up the chain link fence and fell to the other side, landing soundly upon her feet. With her legs shaking, her heart galloping, and her palms sweating, she saw Ryker's large figure stepping out of the darkness. The man climbed up the fence and made it over. He didn’t make such a graceful landing, and his heavy body slammed back against the links. Ryker, partially over the top, grabbed the man around the neck and pinned him to the fence. As the man awkwardly raised his arm, she saw the shape against the fence. “Gun, Ryker. He's got a gun!” The shot shattered the dead of the night. Ana fell to her knees, but Ryker managed to wrestle the weapon from the man just before he started to run. Ryker flipped the rest of the way over the fence, landing with a heavy thud. His hand punched into the ground, and he jumped to his feet Ana saw the blood glistening crimson in the moonlight. She ran to him. “You've been shot!” “Are you all right?” He frantically searched her body in the dark, his hands touching and probing her. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” “Never mind me. You’re the one who’s been shot!” He shook her. “Juliana, are you hurt?” “No, I'm okay. Now let go of me!” She swatted his hands away and did her own inspection of him, only to discover that the blood was coming from his left arm. She tried to get a good look. “It's just a flesh wound.” He shrugged her off as though it were a mosquito bite or paper cut. “Ryker!” The blood was running down his arm, and she feared he might lose too much. She had read about shock, how it could mask the awareness of being hurt. “You’re bleeding all over the place,” she informed him. Ignoring her worry, he inspected the area thoroughly. “We gotta get out of here in case he's still nearby. I don’t want you to be anyone's target practice.” He pulled her close to his chest. With his 129

arms wrapped around her to shield her, he walked her back to the car and pulled the passenger door open. Ana crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn't going to budge until she tied off that bleeding. “Take your shirt off,” she ordered. “Listen, Princess, I know you're anxious to get our little tryst underway, but I don’t think this the time or the place for—” “Shut up and take it off!” Ryker pulled his shirt over his head, and the low sound he made wasn’t lost on her. Ana wrapped the shirt around his arm like a tourniquet, making sure it was tight enough to stop the bleeding. She shoved her hand out. “Now give me the keys.” He hesitated, trying her patience. “Look, I'm not going to be sitting in that passenger seat all helpless when you pass out behind the wheel from loss of blood,” she said. “Now give me the damn keys, Ryker.” After he reluctantly surrendered them, Ana settled in the driver’s seat and started the car. She glanced over at him and heard her own small gasp. The shirt was already drenched with blood. Ryker wrestled for his phone and made a call. “Hey, Bucky, I…, uh, we need a secure location. Got anything nearby?” Ana scowled at Ryker and slapped him on the thigh. “A secure location? Tell him you've been shot and I'm taking you to the hospital.” “No hospitals.” He shook his head. “No, Bucky, it's nothing, but we can't go back to the hotel. It's not safe. Okay—yeah. All right. Thanks, buddy.” Ryker shut the phone and said to Ana, “Drive east.” “East? To where?” “He'll call back with the exact location in a minute. He said to start out heading east.” “You need to have that wound looked at, and I’m not going to drive around aimlessly in the middle of the night with you bleeding everywhere and with God-knows-who after us.” “Juliana, I'm fine. Put the key in the ignition and drive.” Clearly this was a battle he wasn’t going to let her win. After a few seconds of seething and grilling him with reluctant eyes, she put 130

Satisfying the Curse the key in and started the car. “Place your good hand over the wound and hold it there with as much pressure as you can,” she advised as she put the car in drive and headed onto the street. A few moments later, Ryker's phone rang. “Yeah?” Ana pulled the car over to the curb. Ryker glanced at her. “What are you doing? Keep driving.” “I want to talk to Bucky myself.” He glared at her through the darkness with a look of disbelief on his face. “You can give me the angry eyes all you want, but I'm not pulling back out into the street until you give me that phone.” Ryker growled. “Okay. Hang on, Bucky. Here,” he said, stubbornly handing her the cell. Ana snatched it from his hand and put it up to her ear. “Ryker needs to go to the hospital. It's not nothing, like he said. He was shot, and he's losing a lot of blood.” “Miss Pratt, the hospital is twelve minutes away, and the secured location is fifteen. Ryker says he's okay and that he’ll make it, and I’m inclined to believe that my agent knows what he's doing. I'll have a doctor meet you there as soon as I can, but you can't go to the hospital. A gunshot wound will involve the local police, and that's not something we are equipped to deal with at the moment. He's concerned for your safety, and I must follow his instructions. Do you understand?” “Yes, I understand perfectly. You're gonna risk letting one of your agents—your friend—die just because he's stubborn as a jackass.” She glared at Ryker, who was looking back at her with a cocky grin. “Fine. Then I need a pint of blood. I’m assuming you know his blood type, what with all your files and everything.” “Of course. We know everything about our agents,” Bucky replied. Everything? Ana suddenly wanted to have a little sit-down with the faceless Bucky. Get back on track, Ana. There's a man bleeding to death here, she scolded herself and checked out Ryker's arm. Blood was pooling on the car seat where his hand was resting. “Make it two pints. I also need a heptrap, IV supplies, a suture kit, some ABD dressings—are you getting all this?” 131

“Yes, ma'am. Details are my specialty.” “Good. I'm gonna need a broad-spectrum antibiotic, but be sure it’s not one he’s allergic to. Um—surgical tape, an O2 tank, a good pain med, maybe morphine, and—” “He won't take any,” Bucky interjected. “Nope.” Ryker shook his head. “No pain meds for me. I'll be okay without ’em,” “What?” Ana said into the phone, incredulous, making sure Ryker also caught the question. She turned to him. “I'm going to stitch you up, sew your skin with a needle, and you're going to—” “There's no point arguing with him about it,” Bucky said as Ryker continued to refuse in the background. Ana frowned. “Fine. Be sure you get me a local anesthetic then.” “All right. I sent the address to T.'s GPS, and I'll have everything to you shortly after your arrival at the safe house. And Juliana?” “Yes?” “Don’t try to give him any pain meds, even if he's out of it. If you do, when he does come to, he will be very angry. You might have already realized it, but T can be hazardous under certain circumstances. Doing that to him would be one of those circumstances.” “Why?” She didn’t want to say too much that might give away to Ryker what she and his AC were talking about. “I don’t know, but he fractured his pelvis and cracked a few ribs about three years ago. The doctor slipped some Demerol in his IV after Ryker adamantly refused any pain meds. I'm not sure what happened, but when they picked him up after the hospital demanded that he leave— well, I heard that the doctor caring for him was left with two black eyes, maybe even a broken nose. I recommend you respect his wishes and keep the painkillers away from him, okay?” “Sure.” Hitting a doctor? Well, that’s a tad bit extreme, don’t you think? All things considered, she decided it would be quite all right to let the obstinate man suffer. “Thank you, Bucky.” She flipped the cell phone shut. ****

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Satisfying the Curse Ana got the key from the hiding place where Bucky texted Ryker it would be. Once they’d entered the house, she punched in the security code he’d supplied. Ryker was weaving back and forth. Ana tried to help him, knowing the blood loss was making him lightheaded. He needed to lie down before he fell. She pulled his arm over her shoulder and allowed him to lean some of his weight onto her, hoping she could hold him upright. “You're stronger than I thought,” he mumbled. “Yes, I am, and don’t you forget it.” She dragged him down a hallway, looking for a bedroom. She directed him into the first one she came across and helped him onto the bed. She went into the bathroom and found a pretty glass bowl filled with towels and decorative soaps. She emptied it and washed it out with steaming hot water, then grabbed the antibacterial soap and some clean towels from the sink before she went back onto the room. Ryker's eyes were closed, and his shirt was soaked with blood. Ana removed the drenched shirt, placed a towel under his arm, and began to wash the wound, praying the bullet hadn’t gone any deeper than he had indicated. Once the wound was clean, her anxiety dropped a smidgen. He’d been right, there was no bullet entry wound. It must have just skimmed him, she thought. He was going to need a good stitching, though, because the wound was gaping and the bleeding hadn’t stopped. Ana heard a knock. She ran to the door and found a man with his arms full of medical supplies. He silently handed them to her and went away. At least Bucky was smart enough to send an IV pole with the supplies. She decided to hang the blood first, and then she sutured his skin. Ryker remained silent through the whole process. When she’d done as much as she could, she cleaned the mess in the room and freshened herself up as best she could. She dimmed the lights in the bedroom and stared at Ryker for many seconds. What if the bullet had hit a vital organ? What if he— oh, God, what if he had died? Died trying to protect her? The thought brought a tear to her eye. Losing him would have killed her. She cared for him more deeply than she’d permitted herself to believe. The curse may have wanted The Kid's body, but Ana wanted the agent's heart, something she was quite sure he’d never 133

willingly surrender. She found herself wondering what it would be like to be with Ryker forever. To have a house and some kids with him. But she must stop daydreaming about the impossible, she told herself. He needed his rest, and to give him what he needed, she turned to leave the room. “Juliana….” His husky but faint voice pulled on her heartstrings. She glanced over her shoulder. With heavy-lidded eyes, he gazed at her. “Don't go.” She wanted to run over to him, kiss him, and hold him, but she wasn’t about to be that selfish. “You need your rest.” “I want you to lie with me.” His eyes were glossy and sluggish. “Come rest with me.” She slowly walked over to the large bed. There was plenty of room to lie beside him without touching his amazing body, without hurting him. She pulled back the sheet and crawled in, settling stiffly beside him. “Come closer,” he said. She scooted up against his warm side. His arm, the good one, came out. He slipped it under her shoulder. “Closer,” he said, pulling her up and onto his chest. “Stop,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt you.” “My left arm is the only thing that’s injured,” he said, tucking her against his body. “Besides, it'll hurt me a lot more if I can't hold you like this when you're so close to me.” “Ryker….” Her voice cracked at the realization of how caring and heartfelt his words were. They gave her fanciful daydreams hope. “Shh,” he quieted her. He stroked her hair, soothing her as though she were the one in pain. And to some degree she was, for her heart was breaking. “I need you, Juliana. Stay right here and don’t leave me.” Her eyes started to well up again. “Don't ever leave me,” he whispered, weak and drained, before he finally passed out. One single tear had found its way to her duct, and it released and dropped soundlessly upon his chest. 134

Satisfying the Curse **** “How are you feeling?” Juliana asked as she walked into the room with a plateful of toast, eggs, and a tall glass of water. When he didn’t answer, she thrust the water at him. “Here.” He took it from her. “I know you don’t like big breakfasts, but please try to eat all of this. Okay?” She set the dish on the nightstand. “It’ll help you regain your strength.” Ryker gulped down the cold, refreshing water and handed her the glass. “That was good, but I could really use a cup of coffee.” She snatched the glass. “You can have coffee after you've had a couple more glasses of water and after you eat a few pieces of the toast and all those eggs. You need to hydrate, and you need some protein. You had a lot of tissue damage.” Ryker wanted to argue with her, but his little nursemaid had scurried from the room before he was able to get a word out. He rested his head on the pillow and glanced around the unfamiliar but welcoming room he couldn’t remember from the night before. In fact, just about the only thing he recalled was waking up to find Juliana in the only place he wanted her to be, safe in his arms. He looked at his arm. The bandage was clean, but beneath it the wound had a painful and throbbing heartbeat all its own. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and picked up the dish to consume the meal Juliana had made for him. As Ryker was coming back from the bathroom, Juliana walked through the door with two more glasses of water in her hands. “What are you doing?” She scowled. “Get back in bed. If you fall, it will be very difficult for me to pick you up.” “I'm not going to fall. It was my arm that was injured, not my legs.” But he got back into bed nevertheless. There was something sweet and sexy about the way she was fussing over him. She approached the side of the bed. “Drink this.” She handed him a glass of water and put the other one she was holding on the nightstand. His cleaned plate brought a small, pleased smile to her face.

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Ryker downed the water because, oddly enough, he found himself wanting to please her, just to see that tiny, beautiful smile again. She went into the bathroom and came out with some washcloths. She sat on the edge of the bed and started to remove the bandage, then gently washed his bicep. The suture line was straight, and from what he could tell, the stitches were secure and intact. She placed her hand lightly over the injury, then drew it back. “It’s not warm, swollen, or red,” she said. “That’s a good sign.” She covered his bicep with another clean bandage. “No infection, right?” “Yes. I ran a bag of IV antibiotics this morning when the blood was finished, so I think you should be in the clear.” She picked up the old bandages. “Will you take some extra-strength Tylenol?” “I'm not really in any pain,” he said. Her brows drew close together, revealing her disapproval. “But, yes, if it will please my little princess, I will take them.” Pleasing her over and over again in the naughtiest of ways had come to mind, but he had to get the throbbing in his arm under control before he could deal with the throbbing in his lower regions. Plus, he had to be sure he was prepared to admit defeat when it came to Juliana's curse and her precious virginity. She came back in the room, scanned the full glass of water on the nightstand, and smirked as she placed the steaming cup of coffee on the dresser, just out of his reach. She handed him the Tylenol. Ryker apprehended the glass of water that stood between him and his coffee and took the pills. The sweetest smile had appeared on Juliana's face when she brought the coffee to him. “Where's my phone?” he asked before taking a sip of the hot black java. “On the dresser.” She made no move to get it for him. “I already spoke to Bucky. He says you should rest up. Another agent will be here the day after tomorrow.” Ryker didn’t like the sound of that. He wasn’t about to have Juliana Pratt taken away from him. Not yet, not until after the trial. He convinced himself that was the reason he didn’t want to let her go. Besides, he needed to take care of her curse, and that would 136

Satisfying the Curse require at least a good couple hours of privacy. In truth, he was going to need more than two days to cure the curse she had put on him. “Another agent?” She looked away from him. “That's what he said.” Was she also upset that someone new might be assigned to her? “So, what are we going to do in the meantime?” he teased. “I can't just lie in this bed for the next two days.” “Well, I thought maybe we could.” Her eyes caught his. “We can read a book together.” “A book?” That certainly wasn’t what he had in mind. “Yes. I'll pick one out, and we can take turns reading it. Later, you can take a bath, but no showers. You shouldn’t get the sutures wet. Bucky sent over some clothes for you.” She shuffled out of the room, apparently in search of a damn book. Ryker put his hand on his stiff cock and groaned. A book? Where is that fucking curse of hers when I need it?

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Chapter Thirteen It wasn’t easy sleeping next to Ryker all night. Juliana wanted him badly, but she couldn’t risk injuring his arm any further, and she feared he'd tear the stitches if they were too active with each other, which she was sure they would be during her first time. He'd made a few advances, and his hands had become a little frisky, but she stayed strong and was able to fend him off. They went through a few different books, but it seemed as though every book in the house offered some erotic chapter early on, and listening to Ryker read the explicit sex scenes drove her uncontrollably mad. Every time that happened, she had to pluck the book from his fingers and search for another, more prudish one. He found the whole ordeal amusing, but she wasn’t about to give in. He needed to heal before they could play. She rolled over in the bed and stretched out to search for him. The bed was empty. She cracked her eyes open to find Ryker sitting across the room in the chair. His hands were folded together and his forearms rested on his thighs. He was watching her. “Good morning, Princess.” He smiled with that warm and sexy grin that filled her body with heat. Lying on her belly, she perched up on an elbow and settled her chin into the palm of her hand. “What are you doing out of bed, young man?” she scolded. “I can't lie on that mattress anymore like some fucking invalid. I needed to move around, and don’t give me any shit about it. I know my limits, and I'm okay. My arm feels fine now.” Suddenly anxious, worried he meant he couldn’t stand to lie with her anymore, she froze. If that was indeed what he meant, she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself and force him back into bed with her. She reached up and hugged the pillow, wishing it were him. Ryker's t-shirt, the one she'd worn to bed, crept up her hips, but she didn’t pull it down. She felt the air and then his eyes hit her

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Satisfying the Curse bare ass cheeks. She had his attention, and he had awakened the curse yet again. “Okay,” she said, making it appear as though she wasn’t upset about his decision—whatever the reason—for getting out of the bed. Toying with him further, she rocked her hips. “Are you hungry?” “Yes.” His eyes met hers. “Starving,” he hoarsely admitted. She rolled over onto her back and thrust her breasts out, keeping her eyes locked on his. “What do you want for breakfast?” She raised a leg and let it sway to the side. “I know you never have a big appetite in the morning,” she said, placing her hand on her knee. He followed her every move as she traced her fingers down her inner thigh to her belly, then ran a finger along the edge of her cotton panties. “But I'm sure we can find something for you to nibble on.” “Yes. Anything you serve me will be more than satisfying,” he replied in a harsh, serious tone. The innuendo in his remarks and the dark smoldering of his eyes made it clear that what he wanted for breakfast was her, but he didn’t make a move. Or was she wrong? She became anxious and started to draw her hand back. “Don’t stop,” he said. Ana's finger and bravery paused just beneath the start of her panties. “What?” “Go lower.” He watched her with black, sinful eyes. “Slide your finger under your panties and touch yourself.” His words and what they insinuated inspired the painful ache he was known for creating between her legs. “You want me to—to play with myself? Does that turn you on?” “Just hearing you say it is making me hard.” He sat still and relaxed. “And you don’t want me to strain my arm, right?” He arched a brow. She had argued that issue all night. Ana was familiar with masturbation, she'd read about it and seen it in movies, but she’d never indulged in the self-gratifying act herself. Most things about sex were foreign to her when it came to personal experience, and the thought of touching herself like that was unfathomable and awkward. She feared she would do it wrong—or worse—that she 139

would do it right and the curse would take over and insist on having something more fulfilling. Something like Ryker. He was patiently waiting, his calm, cool eyes gazing upon her heated body, so once again she helplessly abided by his command. She slid her hand farther down beneath her panties, and her finger searched until she arched forward from her own touch upon her clitoris. He leaned back into the chair with a sharp intake of air, hands spread over his sturdy thighs. The sedated look on his face altered. His fingers gripped the thick muscles of his thighs. His response was evident and aggressive, every muscle contracted as though he was holding himself back from approaching her. His reaction encouraged her next stroke and then the next. Eventually Ryker did give in, and he stood up and walked over to her. A spark ignited in her core from his nearing. He leaned over her, and that spark turned into a raging fire. He hitched his fingers around her panties, pulled them down her legs, and tossed them to the side. Trailing a finger from her ankle to her inner thigh, he began to circle her sensitive flesh. She froze. He shook his head. “No, keep going,” he whispered in a stern, deep tenor. “I just want to see what you're doing.” He reached up for her other hand and guided it between her legs. “Open up for me. Let me look at all of you,” he said, leaving her confused hand upon her womanhood. Placing her fingers on her soft petals, Ana spread them apart, hoping and praying that she was doing what he wanted. The fierce desire in his eyes answered her worries. Ryker came back to the bed and sat beside her. Every cell in her sensed his powerful presence. Every neuron reconnected with memories of how he had made her feel when he was doing the stroking. “Touch yourself, like my tongue on your sweet pussy.” His eyes darkened. “Yeah, baby, you like that, don't you.” Inspired by his supportive descriptions, Ana rolled the tip of her finger over her clitoris and shivered with excitement. “Yes,” she moaned as her legs dropped back and her fingers tensed their hold.

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Satisfying the Curse Ryker's gaze seemed to reach inside of her as she stroked herself into a needy frenzy. “Ah, that's it, princess, rub that pretty pussy,” he said, blazing with passion as he watched her. His hand lifted, and Ana cried out with anticipation when he maneuvered it between her legs. Was he going to take over? Her hand stilled. “Oh, no, you keep at it,” he insisted. “I only mean to assist you.” A finger slid along her opening, slow and tantalizing, and his skilled assistance had her begging for more. Her virginal walls contracted, were preparing for him, but he only teased the sensitive flesh upon its wake. “Juliana.” Calling her name, he pulled her from her frenzy. She gazed up at him, and her body infused with an intense need. “Cum for me.” He circled her entrance, and Ana's finger rubbed her clitoris faster, trying to match the sensation of his touch. “I want you to cum right now.” He slipped his finger inside her, probing her tender walls. “Can you do that for me, Princess?” Could she? She tilted her hips upward and cried, “Yes!” Ryker lowered his head and muffled her next moan with a kiss, hard and taking, as she exploded, erupted, and squirmed beneath his power. She trembled, and the spasms shot through her infused body. His mouth was relentless, not letting go, and as she released her orgasm, he devoured the audible reaction of her bliss into his untamed mouth. **** He'd been in the bedroom for the past two days, not that he minded being in bed with Juliana, but he was anxious to get up and move around. Roaming through the place, Ryker ascertained that it wasn’t the kind of NESA safe house he was used to. There were too many personal items. He left Juliana in the bedroom, flushed and out of breath. It was either that or drive himself into her, and although he'd come to terms with the fact that he was indeed going to be with her, he wanted a little more time to allow his arm to heal. He didn’t want anything to hinder his performance, and he certainly didn’t want to give her any less than what she deserved for her first time. 141

Ryker wandered into a library. He laughed to himself when he saw that most of the books were steamy romance novels with Fabiolooking men and well-endowed women on the covers, their hair blowing in some imagined breeze. No wonder Juliana couldn’t find anything suitable to read the other night. He gazed around the room. Family pictures were strategically placed on the shelves and walls. There was a wedding photo, as well as several other photos with the happy couple in some loving pose. There were also pictures of their child, a girl. He came to a mahogany roll-top desk, and the picture sitting on top of it caught his eye. He picked it up. His stomach squeezed and his fingers shook. He became lightheaded. The photo was of his mother and his aunt, and someone who looked like the woman from the wedding photo. The women were young, somewhere in their teens. What the hell? Who was that in the photo with Mom and Aunt Janie? He glanced around the room in utter confusion and shock. Where the hell are we? Whose house is this? His mind ran in circles, and when Juliana walked in, he quickly replaced the picture and tried to recompose himself. “Hey.” She smiled at him and started to meander around the room. “I didn’t notice all the family photos before.” She leaned in to get a better look, then shot her gaze at him, confusion paled her face. “Ryker?” She stopped and stared at a picture of the young girl. He came up behind her. “R-ryker,” she stuttered, “that girl is me!” She pointed. “The—the girl in this picture is me.” Examining it closely, he could see the resemblance. “Why are there pictures of me here? I didn’t know any existed from my childhood. My father never cared enough to take any. What's going on?” Her mouth gaped as she stared up at him for an answer, but he had nothing beyond a hunch, nothing concrete. “Whose house is this?” she demanded. He put his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. She was trembling, and he wished in that moment he could give her all the answers. But first he needed to make a call. He stroked her hair. “I don't know,” he mumbled as he kissed the top of her head. “I'm sorry, Princess, but really I don't know.” 142

Satisfying the Curse Once he had her settled on the sofa in the living room, he left her to call Bucky, who picked up on the first ring. “What's up, T.? How's that gunshot wound? You on the mend?” “Bucky, I want to know what the fuck is going on! Who the hell hired me for this job, and who owns this house?” “All right, all right. I know it seems a little fucked up, but—” “A little fucked up? There are childhood pictures of my assignment all over the fucking place! This is Juliana Pratt's mother's home, isn’t it? She's the one who hired me, right?” “Yeah, T. Look, I knew you'd figure that out sooner or later, but there's more to it. I’ve got my orders, and I can't give you any further info. When Mrs. Chambers and the NESA agent get there, they will explain everything to you.” “Fuck!” Ryker paced the room, aware that Bucky wasn’t going to break. He was a stickler when it came to his damn orders. Taking a deep breath, Ryker tried to calm down. “Okay, okay, but help me out, Bucky. What can you tell me?” “I can tell you the attack the other night may not have been solely directed at your assignment.” “What? That makes no sense. Who else would they have been after?” “You.” “What?” “See, about three weeks ago, there was some new evidence unearthed in Janie Crawford's case.” Bucky sighed into the phone. “You're the witness for that evidence.” “What? He killed my aunt, but I have nothing to do with the case. I was in college at the time, out of fucking town. Besides, no one's contacted me. I haven't been served papers to be in court.” “Maybe not, but the court order is sitting at NESA's regional office in Washington.” “And they didn’t tell me!?” “Listen, the agent will explain—” “Yeah, yeah, fuck you, Bucky!” More confused than before, Ryker clicked the phone off and threw it across the room. ****

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With her arms wrapped around her waist, Juliana rocked back and forth as she sat on the sofa, waiting for Ryker to return as thoughts ran through her boggled brain. Who were those people, the couple in the pictures? Why did they have pictures of her? Whose house was this, and where the hell was Ryker? She looked around the room, opened her eyes and really took in her surroundings. It was warm, well-lit, and welcoming. The sofa was comfortable, and the chairs looked just as appealing. The plasma screen wasn’t monstrous, but it was capable of doing its job. The house smelled of affluence, but it also gave off a nice homey feel. She heard a noise at the front door. Ryker came out of nowhere and stood in front of her, his gun drawn. Ana's heart jumped, skipped, and then took off when the door creaked open. Josie's head came through first. She raised her hands in the air. “Agent Ryker,” she said, glancing over at Ana, who smiled with relief. “It's just me and Mrs. Chambers. Put down the gun.” He hesitated, but finally conceded and holstered his weapon in the back of his jeans, “Thought you weren't due until tomorrow.” Josie dropped her hands and waved for whoever was behind her to come in. “We got a call you had some trouble. Said you were shot.” Her gazes drifted over to his arm. “We decided to head back a day early.” Josie cleared the doorway and a woman came through behind her. Her hazel eyes searched the room and fell on Ana. The woman's eyes softened then, and she smiled. “Hello, Juliana,” she gently said and walked over to Ryker. Her hand came out, and she gingerly touched his good arm. “Thank you so much for keeping her safe, Agent Ryker.” “Who are you?” Ana blurted out. She didn’t wait for an answer. “Do you live here?” She stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “Why do you have pictures of me as a child?” “I'm Cassandra Chambers, and, yes, I do live here, Juliana.” She swept her warm eyes over Ana's body. Is she inspecting me? Ana wondered.

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Satisfying the Curse “I will explain everything to you, but first I must have a word with Agent Ryker.” “I don't think so. Not until I get some answers!” “Ana,” Josie intervened, “I promise you'll get those answers, but come with me to the kitchen for now. I'm famished, so maybe we can find a bite to eat. Mrs. Chambers only needs a few moments with Agent Ryker, and then you may ask her whatever you want.” Ana glanced up at Ryker, who grimaced and nodded. Damn it! If Ryker wanted her to leave, she knew there was no way she was going to be able to stay. If he had to, the big brute would physically remove her from the room. “Fine,” she snapped. She turned on the balls of her feet and headed toward the kitchen. She'd work on Josie while this Mrs. Chambers and Ryker had their little talk about Godknows-what. **** Ryker could see the resemblance instantly. Cassandra Chambers’ eye color may have been different than Juliana's, but the shape was the same. She had similar facial features, like the high cheekbones, pert nose, and full lips. Without a doubt, the woman was Juliana's mother. “Come. Let's go into the library,” Cassandra said and led him back to the room that had started all the mayhem. She closed the door and turned to him. After a long stare, which made Ryker extremely restless, she said, “Do you care for Juliana?” His brows furrowed in confusion at the question. Okay, where was she going with this? She waved a hand. “No matter. You don’t have to tell me. I can see it in the way you look at her. That’s why it is imperative I tell you this before I explain everything else.” Somebody better start explaining, he impatiently thought, but he didn’t make a move. She strolled around the room as though drumming up the strength to get out what she needed to say. She stopped and turned to him, folded her hands, and rested them just below her waist, perhaps to calm herself, or to prepare herself. “Despite what she thinks, Juliana is not Warren Pritchard's daughter.”

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He hadn't anticipated this. He wasn’t sure he could believe it. After all, this juicy little bit of gossip was coming from the woman who had allegedly passed Juliana's crazy “curse” to her. But Cassandra didn’t come off as promiscuous, or loose or stupid or selfish, and for some reason, Ryker couldn’t see her running off from her child to chase after a man. He had learned, though, that first impressions could play tricks. When he considered all the corrupt assholes he’d come face to face with in his line of work, he knew firsthand there were some pretty damn good masks out there, and sometimes it was tough to see through them. Perplexed and wary about how Juliana was going to take the news, he tamped the violence boiling below his own superficial calm. As he’d been trained to do in desperate situations, he remained still and silent. “I had left Warren. I got pregnant by another man, and when I went back to Warren a year later to ask for a divorce, he stole Juliana from me. Of course, that is another story. We can discuss it later.” So. There was the reality behind the mask. Leaving one’s husband and getting knocked up by some other man sounded more like the mother Juliana had mentioned. As Ryker watched her walk cross to the photograph of his aunt and mother, he forgot about Juliana’s father and didn’t giving a shit about Cassandra’s infidelity. She picked the photo up and gazed at it longingly. “Janie and Sarah,” she finally said, and looked at Ryker. “Janie was my best friend growing up. We all went to summer camp together. Your mother, Sarah, was such a sweet little girl. Janie was a bit tougher, but I suppose she needed to be. Sometimes that’s how it is for older sisters….” Her words drifted off. Although royally confused and anxious to know more, Ryker held his tongue. He could tell Cassandra Chambers had more to say about his aunt and mother, and he wanted to hear it. She shook her head, then carefully placed the framed photo back on the roll-top desk. “The last year we were all at camp, I was seventeen. We decided to sneak out one night and go to the carnival, along with all the other girls. While we were there, we met a carnie by the name of Renny. He was a handsome young man, witty and very charming. He tried all night to get me to go off with 146

Satisfying the Curse him, but I refused to leave Sarah and Janie. The man was a few years older than me, so I guess I was a little intimidated.” She ran a hand up her arm as if she was cold or had caught a chill. “We went back to the cabin. Sarah, your mom, was keeping a turtle in the shed by the lake. She went out there, just as she had every other night, to check on the little thing.” Cassandra took a deep breath and then sighed. “When Sarah came back, she—she— “ Her eyes fogged up with tears. Ryker had an idea about where the story would go from there. Anger surged and muscles tensed, but still he remained silent. She wiped her tears and composed herself. “That was the night your mother was raped,” she flatly informed him, verifying his assumptions. “We called the police and filed a report, but your mother adamantly refused to give up her attacker.” She walked over to him and placed her hand lightly upon his arm. “It changed her, Trent.” He flinched at the sound of his given name, but Cassandra had told him stories of his mother—a young, carefree, loving, happy girl—and these momentarily softened the blow. His mother had always said his name with such contempt, but Cassandra painted her as a caring, unselfish person. Ryker's heart was begging for him to forgive his mother, but the little boy inside, haunted by his memories, never could. Cassandra dropped her hand from his arm. “A few years later, I ran into Renny, the man who worked at the carnival. Things had changed for him too. He had started his own business and made some very good investments. He was an intelligent man and a very wealthy man, and since I was a bit older myself, I no longer found him intimidating. We eventually got married, but he changed. He became cruel, but that, I suppose, is also another story, one you don’t need to know.” Ryker took a few steps back and crossed his arms over his chest as he tried to grasp what she was saying. A sense of doom encased him, wrapping around his edgy body, and he had a notion it was going to strangle him before Cassandra Chambers was through with what she had to get off her chest.

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“When my husband stole my child from me, I tried to take him to court, but his money bought the best lawyers. In the end, he gained full custody. He hid Juliana from me for years. I remarried Juliana's biological father, and when he passed away ten years ago, I began to use his life insurance money to try to find my little girl. I knew Janie, your aunt, was working as an investigator, so I went to her for help. Janie looked into Renny's background, but what she uncovered was… well, let’s just say it could have ruined him. Renny, as you have probably guessed, is Warren Pritchard.” She swallowed hard. “Trent,” she said, gazing into his eyes, causing that damn doom to seep into every pore of his flesh, “he's your father.” As if a mule had kicked him with all its might, his knees gave out. Ryker stumbled back into a shelf. Books fell with a crash, as if doom was finally consuming him. Cassandra hurried over to help him up. “No,” he snarled, shrugging from her. “I want to hear the rest.” He pulled himself to his feet. Rigid as a granite pillar, he waited. He had a gift for shutting down his emotions. He’d always used it when he couldn’t face a painful truth. That Warren Pritchard could be the man who had raped his mother—could be his father—was not something he knew how to accept. But he had to hear more, all of it, before he could process all the pieces to the sordid puzzle she was putting together for him. “The blood work they did on you three weeks ago…” she began, and Ryker recalled NESA requesting the blood draw, telling him it was for his yearly exam. “It was sent in with Warren Pritchard's. It has been confirmed that he is your biological father. It also confirmed the identity of your mother’s rapist. That’s the new evidence. They now know Pritchard’s motive for killing Janie. She used all her resources as a private investigator, and she found out the truth. She had a hunch Warren was going to come after her, so she placed all the incriminating evidence into a file and hid it in her secretary's office. But after Janie's murder, the secretary was so upset she just packed everything up and put it away. Then, six months ago, when she was going through her things preparing for a move, she discovered the file Janie had left for me. I forwarded it to

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Satisfying the Curse Detective Dillinger, and he felt it was enough to reopen the case for investigation. He found more solid evidence for a conviction.” Warren Pritchard was the man who’d raped his mother. Aunt Janie had discovered it, so Pritchard killed her. Numbed by shock as he was, Ryker had to admit it all fit together now. Instinctively he’d known Pritchard was guilty of the crime, but he could never figure out why. The blood flowing in his veins belonged not only to a rapist, but also a murderer. His sense of doom settled in on him as he realized he was ruined beyond repair. How would this affect Juliana? That is, besides the fact that now he couldn’t ever have her? Warren Pritchard wasn’t her father. He was Trent Ryker’s father, for fuck’s sake! His own fucking father! The realization churned the bile in his gut until he was nauseated. “Trent—?” Cassandra tried to rouse him from his self-loathing. “Please don’t call me that.” It brought back too many bad memories, too much pain. “Call me Ryker.” She gazed at him as though he were an abstract painting. “I know your mother changed after the rape. Something inside her died that night. Something sweet and pure was taken from her, and she couldn’t get it back. She was only fourteen when that happened to her, still a child herself, and she didn’t know how to deal with it.” “You don’t need to tell me that!” Ryker grumbled under his breath. “No, I suppose I don’t. But your name was given to you by Janie. It was her favorite boy’s name.” She smiled. “When she was younger, she always said her first son's name was going to be Trent, and when you were born, she was the one who wrote your name on the birth certificate. She loved you with all her heart, and she would have come back from college sooner if she had known how bad it was getting for you with your mother.” For the first time in years, Ryker wanted to cry. But he had stopped shedding tears at a very young age, and he couldn’t bring himself to surrender to the weakness. “I want to hold you, comfort you, because this must be very difficult to take in. That's why I asked NESA not to inform you about Pritchard being your father. I didn’t want you to find out

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from court papers or from your employer. I have a good sense, though, that accepting my comfort may also be difficult for you.” Ryker turned away from her. Cassandra's comfort was felt, even though the woman hadn’t physically touched him. “I am grateful you kept my daughter safe. I assumed being raised by Janie, you would be a good man, and I can see I was correct. Janie always spoke so highly of you. She was my dearest friend, and I loved her too.” Ryker kept his eyes steady on the floor. He knew if he looked up at Cassandra, he’d probably crumble into pieces, a coward, succumbing to childish tears and scurrying into the woman's embrace, in search of the motherly care his Aunt Janie had always offered to him. “Now, I must go see Juliana and explain things to her.” She heaved a sigh and turned, but when she got to the door, she looked over her shoulder at him and said, “I will not tell Juliana about Pritchard being your father, but it will come out in the trial. She will find out either way.” Ryker nodded in appreciation. “You will testify and do what needs to be done to assist in putting Pritchard away for good, won’t you?” Ryker lifted his head and looked her dead in the eyes. “Yes,” he said without hesitation. A warm smile came over her face before she left the room And there was Ryker, enlightened, alone, numb, cold, and fuming next to a pile of fallen romances, pondering the taste of doom and revelation.

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Chapter Fourteen “So—” Josie said, spreading mayo on her bread. “You know,” Ana said. “you should use mustard on your ham sandwiches instead. It's a lot less fattening.” She was thinking about the woman who had shown up with Josie, wanting to know more, but Josie wasn’t talking. Josie threw her arms in the air, butter knife and all. “What? Are you saying I'm fat!?” “Oh, no! You have a great figure, but your heart would like you better if you cut back on the cholesterol, that’s all.” Josie dauntingly waved the knife at her. “Don't try it. I'm not telling you anything. It's not my place. Mrs. Chambers will explain everything when she gets in here.” She placed the knife back in the jar. “Anyway, what I was going to say was, did you take care of that pesky curse?” “When it comes to that, did you know—” “That he was a NESA agent?” Josie blurted out. “No. I was just as surprised as you were, I expect. Did he find out it was you who tied him up?” “Yes.” It felt as if it had been eons since she and Ryker made their little deal. Josie's eyes widened, her sandwich paused midway to her mouth. “How'd that go over?” “Let's just say I woke up one morning handcuffed to the bed.” A mixture of a gasp and a giggle erupted from Josie. Ana ignored her outburst. “And before you ask, yes, I'm still a virgin. He doesn’t sleep with virgins, remember? And he wasn’t lying about that.” “Oh, sweetie, that's too bad.” Josie sobered. “I know how much you—well, that curse—wanted him to be the one.” She took a bite of her sandwich.

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Ana raised a hand, shaking off Josie's quick turn of heartfelt empathy. “He may not have sex with virgins, but he's taken the edge off my pesky curse in other ways, if you get my meaning.” Josie choked. “No.” She coughed again. “Explain yourself, young lady!” Ana scowled at her enthusiasm. Josie always wanted details, regardless of what the topic was. “He's agreed to help me with, well, you know.” She leaned in. “With foreplay,” she whispered. “My, it's amazing. I can’t believe what I’ve been missing out on for all these years.” Josie cleared her throat. “But no actual sex?” “If you mean intercourse, then no,” Ana confirmed. “Wow. That's some damn good self-control on his part.” In every way, shape, and form, Ryker had control. Oddly enough, it was a major part of his appeal. Well, that and his ability to wisp away everyone else around him when he walked into a room. Then there was his strong persona, his steady and precise hands, and his smile. Everything about him awakened each sex-starved hormone in her body. He may not have cured her curse yet, but he'd cured her of her textbook-speaking tactics. All she had was Ryker on the brain. “Juliana?” Mrs. Chambers was standing at the archway to the kitchen. “Yes?” Ana stared at the strange woman, unsure what to do next. “May I have a word with you now?” Ana gave Josie a wary look. “Okay.” “Josie, you may come too,” she said, probably sensing Ana's angst. “Let's go into the living room.” Josie brought her half-eaten sandwich along, and the two trailed behind Mrs. Chambers. Uncertainty circulated in the air. Ana did a quick sweep of the living room but saw no sign of Ryker, though part of her hoped he was there. She had Josie with her, but Josie didn’t offer Ana the security Ryker did. It wasn’t that Josie was incapable of keeping her safe, because she would. It was only that the safety level with Ryker was different, in a man-versus-woman sort of way, one she'd never experienced before until she met him. She trusted him, cared for 152

Satisfying the Curse him, and had to admit to herself that she was falling hopelessly in love with him. Josie and Ana sat on the sofa, and Mrs. Chambers took a seat in a chair across from them. The woman appeared to be just as anxious as Ana was. She placed her hands in her lap, her fingers twirling her wedding band. “There's no easy way to say this,” Mrs. Chambers began, looking right into Ana's eyes as determination surpassed her nervousness. She stopped fiddling with her ring and folded her hands together. “I'm your mother.” Ana's cranial nerve shot a warning signal to all forty-three muscles in her face. Her optic nerve went into overload as she searched the woman's appearance. Her eyes were hazel, but the shape was commensurate with her own. Her hair was brown, but with a tinge of red like Ana's. Her mouth was full like Ana’s, and her nose was eerily similar. Ana's blood shot to her internal organs from the shock of her findings. There was a definite resemblance. “Juliana, I know what Warren Pritchard has told you about your past. But before you believe him blindly,” she implored, “please allow me to explain what happened and why I haven't been there for you.” Ana sat speechless, afraid to open her mouth because she was unsure what would come out of it, words or a scream or a cry. Mrs. Chambers, her mother, continued, “A couple years after Warren and I were married, he changed. He became cold and cruel, unbearable to live with. Caught up in a loveless marriage, I pleaded with him for a divorce, but he refused to give me what I wanted. So, I eventually left him. I moved back to my hometown and met a man who was on leave from the army. In the two months we were together, I fell in love with him, but he was shipped overseas for a three-year tour. After he left, I found out I was pregnant, and—” Ana's head shook. “Wait—” Frantically waving her hands, she again said, “Wait!” Her hands slowly stilled. “Are you trying to tell me that—” She glanced at Josie, then back at her mother. “Are you saying Warren Pritchard is not my father?” Oh, after all her wishing, wouldn’t that be a God-sent bit of reality? Tilting her head, Mrs. Chambers quietly replied, “Yes.” 153

As Ana's organs twisted inside her, all her defenses kicked in. She shot to her feet. Her body was shaking, and she found herself screaming. “Then why did you leave me with him?” Her mother wrung her hands together. “I never wanted to leave you,” she said calmly, though her voice was shaking. “Please sit down and take a deep breath. I promise I will tell you everything.” Ana suspiciously eyed her mother, the wanton whore Daddy Pritchard had warned her about. Should she trust her? Could she believe one word this woman said, the woman who’d run out on her? She wasn’t going to decide until she heard what the woman had to say. She cautiously lowered herself back down on the cushion. A huge slice of Ana secretly relished the thought that Warren Pritchard was not her father. She didn’t know what a typical father-daughter relationship was supposed to be like, but she’d always had a feeling growing up that hers and Daddy Pritchard's was severely flawed. “After your real father went back into the service, I discovered I was pregnant with you. I was still married, and I never had a chance to tell your father I was pregnant. When you were born, I went to Warren to request a divorce. He knew right away that you were not his. Your age, and the time I was gone—well, the math didn’t add up. Don’t get me wrong, I never tried to pawn you off as his child. I wanted to prove that I no longer loved him. I needed to convince him to give me a divorce. He struck a bargain with me. He said I should stay with him for one month, and if I still felt the same way at the end of that month, he’d sign the divorce papers. Well, things didn’t turn out the way he wanted, and one day I woke up to find you gone. He kicked me out, filed for divorce, and took me to court for custody of you.” She sighed, and her eyes became misty. “I fought for you, I gave it everything I had, but I was penniless, and Warren's money won custody of my little girl. Not his. I searched for you, but he’d hidden you well, even changing your last name. Your real father returned from combat, injured,” She lowered her lids with shame. “I never told him about you. I feared for him if he tried to cross Warren, but I will always regret that he never knew. He died over ten years ago. Someday we will sit down together, and I'll tell you about your real father, my one true love and husband. 154

Satisfying the Curse He was a wonderful man.” She lifted her eyes to Ana. “It was with the money from his life insurance that I hired Janie Crawford to—” “Janie Crawford? That's the woman my—” She stumbled on her words. “That’s who Pritchard is accused of killing.” “Yes. Janie was a private investigator. She was helping me find you. She uncovered things that could have ruined Warren. Janie wasn’t just an investigator. She was also a dear friend of mine from childhood. I’d known her and her sister Sarah growing up.” “Why?” Ana was afraid to ask, frightened to believe it, but if she was going to consider what the woman was saying, she had to believe anything was possible. “Why do you think he killed her?” “Hang on,” Josie chimed in. “I remember from reviewing the case file that Sarah was Janie Crawford’s sister’s name.” Ana’s face scrunched with deep thought, and her mother's expression went grim. “Sarah.” She shot a finger in the air. “Sarah Ryker!” she proclaimed, then her forehead wrinkled. “Is she any relationship to Agent Ryker? Is that why you requested he be assigned to take over Juliana's case?” Ana's insides went to mush as she waited for her mother to reply. Cassandra timorously darted her eyes back and forth between Josie and Ana. The secret—one Ana assumed wasn’t supposed to be exposed—lingered in the silent room. Her mother went back to rubbing her hands, and that was when it struck Ana. “Oh. My. God! Janie Crawford was Ryker's aunt!” She gasped, and a buzzing sensation ran from her head to her feet. She was taking in air but suffocating. The floor was moving, and although she was sitting, Ana felt like she were falling. She placed a hand on her forehead to stop the room from spinning. Had Ryker planned to seduce her and use her? Her stomach twisted into knots, and a dilemma presented itself: Fight or flight? One thing she had learned was that when fear stares you in the face, it’s best to deal with it head on. She shot to her feet. Fisting her hands at her sides, she shouted, “Where is he?” Her mother stood. “Juliana, Ryker had no idea I hired him, and he didn’t know why.” Ana glared back at her. Neither the discovery that the woman was her mother, nor the truth that Warren Pritchard wasn’t really 155

her father could compare to the pain she felt from realizing Ryker had been playing with her emotions, toying with her inexperienced heart. “He may not have known, but when he did find out?” She turned on her heels. “He didn’t tell me!” Ana marched through the house until she arrived at the library, where she found Ryker standing by the window. “You!” He glanced over at her, then spun around just in time to catch the blow she landed across his face. “You—you bastard!” He didn’t try to defend himself. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he gallantly took the slap like a man. In fact, a sly grin developed beneath his haughty expression. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, come on, Juliana,” he said harshly. “You can do better than that.” Enraged, her body trembled. “You fucking son-of-a bitch!” Unable to control her rage, her hurt, she hit him again across the cheek, harder this time. “I—” Tears welled to her eyes, and a lump began to form in her throat. She shoved at his unswayable, smug posture with her hands. “I trusted you!” she hissed. “Perhaps that was your first mistake.” His words grated between thinned, tight lips. His heartless façade, his unfeeling response and lack of concern replaced her hurt, jabbing her with fierce anger. She sniffed back her tears and stiffened her back. “You knew all along that I was Warren Pritchard's daughter, and—” He cocked a brow. “I thought you were Warren Pritchard's daughter,” he condescendingly corrected. So he, too, knew the truth now. But that was beside the point. “Admit it! The only reason you made that deal with me—to take care of my curse—was so you could get me to say what you wanted when I get up on the stand.” He blankly stared at her, not bothering to deny her accusation. “You're just like Warren Pritchard,” she spat. Ryker's eye twitched, and his jaw tightened at the sound of the insult. Anna knew she'd hit a nerve with the decree, but she was fuming, and hurting him was only a temporary Band-Aid for the wound he’d 156

Satisfying the Curse caused to her heart. “Come to think of it, you're worse than Warren Pritchard. At least he never made me feel like he gave a shit about me. I was falling for you, and I thought you felt something for me, too, but—” Her voice cracked. “But you were only using me for your own personal gain!” He smiled, but the grin didn’t reach his cynical eyes. “Falling for me?” He chuckled. “Princess, I’m afraid that would have been your second mistake, and you can’t say I didn’t warn you about that one.” “You really don’t care about me at all, do you?” “The only thing I care about is putting Warren Pritchard away for life. Am I sorry you were hurt along the way?” He shrugged. “Life isn’t all about money, Juliana. It can be unfair and cruel.” “Well, thanks for introducing me to the cruel part, Agent Ryker. I will never forget this, and I will never, ever forgive you!” She walked out of the room. **** “You're just like Warren Pritchard— worse than Pritchard—” Those words coming from Juliana’s lips were a nightmare come true. Validation that he was, in fact, a chip off the ol‘ block. He was, in fact, Pritchard's son. Was he really worse than Pritchard for lying to her? For trying to manipulate her with sex so she’d say what he needed her to say on the stand? Yes, he was a cold-hearted bastard. The rotten apple didn’t fall far from the tree, did it? Juliana had found out her whole life was a lie, and he only added more turmoil to her already fucked-up world. It was for the best, her loathing and anger. It would only hurt her for a short while, but as for him, he’d be suffering forever. He’d have to let the one woman he cared about—the one he was falling for—get away. He knew he'd never forgive himself for that, for turning his back on the could-be love of his life. For eternity, Juliana Pratt would have in her possession that little piece of his heart she had stolen from him. His punishment for allowing the theft to occur in the first place was denying her the rest of his heart. “She took it pretty hard,” Cassandra Chambers said as she entered the room. Ryker raked his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I expected she would.” 157

“And you were prepared?” Prepared to hurt her? No, but it was easier than telling her the truth about himself. The whole truth. It was easier than confessing his feelings for her and admitting his malicious intent, and it was a hell of a lot easier than facing the truth about who his father was—a murderer and a rapist. All things considered, he had nothing to offer Juliana. Sure, he had a sizeable bank account. All work and no play kinda collected into unused assets. She was planning on getting millions from Pritchard, though, so she had no use for his money or possessions. He wondered what would happen to her inheritance. What did she want with all that money anyway? What exactly was she planning to do with it? He looked up at Cassandra and saw her studying him. He scowled at the way he felt, but even confronted with his pose of callous indifference, her eyes were soft and forgiving. As though she understood him. She may not have agreed with the way he’d treated her daughter, but she certainly hadn’t chastised him for it. Ryker felt uncomfortable, an emotion both mother and daughter seemed to bring out in him. He tried to pull it together. “So, how'd she take it with you?” “We really didn’t get to discuss her feelings. She was too upset when she discovered that you’ve been lying to her.” Well, damn, that hurt. Ryker stared at her. “Was she with Pritchard on the day my aunt was killed? I have to know.” “That, I can’t tell you,” she said earnestly. “Have you asked her?” “No, and I'm not going to.” She moved farther into the room. “I don’t know my daughter very well, but I have to believe in my heart that in the end, she will tell the truth.” She stopped in front of him. “You've spent some time with her. Do you think she will?” “Yeah.” Ryker sighed. She might be a money-hungry bitch, but she wasn’t a liar. “I just don’t know what the truth is.” “Besides life being unfair and cruel”—Cassandra recited the words he had said to Juliana as she touched his arm—”it can also be filled with confusion. What we all really want, for good or ill, is to know the truth.” “Aunt Janie used to say that,” he mused. 158

Satisfying the Curse Whenever he got into trouble as a child, which was more often than he liked to admit, his aunt would ask him for the truth. Unable to lie to her, he'd confess, and she'd hug him and whisper in his ear, “See? Don’t you feel better now? The truth prevails, and no matter what you have done, I will always forgive you because I love you.” “Yes, I know.” Cassandra warmly smiled, and her eyes lit up. “Janie was a wise woman. She also said that while we might not always get what we deserve or want, we had better fight like hell for whatever it is that we truly need. She'd say, ‘To want is to desire, but a need? Well, that is a requirement, something you can’t live without.’ So I ask you, Trent, when it comes to my daughter, do you want her? Or do you need her?” Answering the question was unnecessary. To save Juliana from himself, he wasn’t going to pursue his real wants or needs. “I will keep her safe.” Cassandra's eyes were soft. “Yes, we do try to keep what is ours safe, but learn by my mistakes. I failed my daughter because I lost control of the situation. In order for you to protect her, she must be able to trust you. You must maintain control at all times, Trent. Otherwise, danger may get the opportunity to sneak up and take her away from you. I trusted Janie, and it was that trust that inspired me to hire you. Intuition told me that when you discovered who Juliana is, even under the false pretenses of her being Pritchard's daughter, you wouldn’t turn your back on her. Can you ensure me that those intuitions were accurate?” Questioning his own intentions where Juliana was concerned was okay, but for Cassandra to do it angered him. “No one will have the opportunity to hurt her again—not Pritchard, and not even you.” Juliana might believe Cassandra was telling the truth, but for Ryker, trust came at a high price. After all, he’d trusted his mother for the first five years of his life, and she did nothing but hurt him. “Like taking Pritchard down, I will do whatever it takes to keep Juliana safe.” With an enthusiastic grin, Cassandra replied, “Good,” revealing no qualms about his threat against her if she hurt Juliana, as though she wouldn’t expect anything less from him

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He relaxed a little. Maybe Cassandra wanted what was best for her daughter after all.

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Chapter Fifteen Ana spent the next few days getting to know Cassandra. She might have warmed up to the thought of Cassandra being her mother, but for the time being, she wasn’t comfortable with calling her “Mom.” Cassandra was absolutely fine with that. Ana had told her what Pritchard had said, why she left her as a child. It brought no tears to Cassandra's eyes, and she didn’t seem too angry about it. In fact, on the contrary, it made her laugh. “A wanton? Hmm.” Cassandra lightheartedly squinted at Ana from across the kitchen table. “Considering the only two men I'd ever been with were Warren and your father, I'd say that is a bit ridiculous. There was no passion with Warren. I didn’t even know passion could exist between two people until I met your father. But mark my words, Juliana. If you are anything like me, you really are cursed. When we love—truly love—it is reckless and passionate, an indestructible force. There's this power in what we feel, a power nothing can triumph over. I may have been a wanton, I suppose, but I was guilty of being a wanton for only one man.” “I’ve always thought these feelings inside of me were, well, bad,” Ana hesitantly bit her bottom lip. What type of relationship did she really want to have with the woman? With her mother? An open one? Yes. That was how it should be, Ana decided, and she went on. “I tried to ignore them, but they consume me. I feel like I'm cursed to be a whore.” “Juliana, are you a virgin?” With their open relationship now confirmed, Ana's heart swelled. “Yes. I was too afraid that if I gave in to the curse and fed my sexual desires, I would become a harlot. Pritchard warned me frequently that it would happen.” “Honey, there's nothing wrong with what you're feeling. It's healthy and natural, and if it's with the right person, sex can be a very beautiful and altogether wonderful experience.”

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That was the problem. The right person had used her, lied to her. The right man hadn’t looked at her in days. On the day she found out how he’d betrayed her, she had asked Ryker to leave Cassandra's house because she was so upset. But he had refused. He hung around, teasing her heart and tossing it in his hands like a ball, as if he was trying to decide what to do with it, whether he should toss it to the wind or put it away for another day. She tried to convince herself she didn’t care about Agent T. Ryker. Deep down, though, she wouldn't have wanted her heart being juggled in anyone else's hands. Her brain even attempted to rationalize his actions. When it came right down to it, she couldn't blame him for wanting to find out the truth, to know if she was indeed going to serve as Pritchard's alibi in the trial for the murder of Ryker’s beloved aunt. What bothered Ana was the way he went about seeking that truth, the way he manipulated her into revealing secrets and used her curse, her vulnerable body, and her susceptible feelings against her. She also tried to convince herself she only thought she was falling in love with him, and only thought it because he was the first man to awaken her sexual desires. What she really had was a bad case of lust. At least, she tried to tell herself that, but she knew that holding to such a blatant lie would make her no better than him—no better than Warren Pritchard. “Have you ever been in love?” Cassandra asked, searching Ana's face. Was she really waiting for an answer? Ana clammed up. Could she really say it? Could she say the words aloud. Say that I’m in love with Ryker? Cassandra, smiling at her pretended indifference, reached out and placed her hand over Ana's. “It's okay,” she said, and those two words, her motherly reassurance, went beyond comforting. “Just remember that while we can be reckless in love, with all that crazy passion in between—everything from desire to anger to uncertainty—when it is all said and done, it will work itself out.” “The thing is, I'm not sure I know what love is. I didn’t have any siblings, the man I thought was my father never loved me, and so far as I knew, my own mother didn’t care about me.” 162

Satisfying the Curse “I always loved you.” Cassandra eyes became misty with tears. Ana squeezed her hand. “I believe you, but until now, no one has ever really been there for me. I do look forward to getting to know you and learning more about my father, but it's just that when it comes to a man….” She cleared her throat, “Well, I'm afraid I won't know when it's real.” “What? Love?” “Yes.” Cassandra sighed and took both of Ana's hands into hers. She gazed at them and then looked up at her face. “I know exactly what you mean. I thought I was in love with Warren, but when I met your father, I finally understood what love was. There was something about the way he watched me from across a room, and when I caught him doing it, everything around him disappeared. The only place in the world I ever wanted to be was in his arms. He was a proud man, a strong man, but with me, he was always gentle and loving. What I'm trying to say is— well, I suppose love is what we feel by our own definition. When you're in love, you will know it. When your heart whispers to you, listen to what it’s saying. After all, the heart is what keeps us alive.” Cassandra's definition of what she felt for Ana's father pretty much matched her own feelings for Ryker. When she looked at Ryker, he was the only man that existed in her world, and she wanted to be in his arms forever. When he touched her, kissed her, it was fierce and taking, urgent and demanding. Perhaps he wasn’t so gentle, but Ana wouldn't want him any other way. The heat in his dark eyes, the raging desire in his splendid touch, and the violent passion in his kiss didn't have her heart whispering, but shouting at her, demanding more, screaming at her to keep this man at all costs. But she had to wonder if her wounded heart could forgive him for his betrayal. Will my heart ever again shout, demanding his touch? “Juliana?” Ana snapped out of her thoughts and smiled at Cassandra. “Yes, I think I get what you're saying.” “If you ever need to talk about anything, just know I will always be here for you.” 163

“Thanks. That means a lot to me.” Until that moment, Ana had never realized how alone she really was in the world. It was a good feeling to know in her heart that Cassandra—her mother—would be there for her from now on. Cassandra patted her daughter’s hand. “Tonight, though, I need to go into Washington to meet the lawyer before the trial gets underway. I will give you my number so you can get in touch with me if you need me. I should be back by tomorrow afternoon.” Ana knew she wouldn’t be going alone. If she was leaving, that meant either Josie or Ryker would be taking the overnight trip with her. “Who's going with you?” She arched a thin eyebrow. “Who would you like me to invite?” she stealthily inquired. The thought of being alone with Ryker was too tempting. Ana feared she'd walk straight into his guest room in the middle of the night and beg him to be with her. “Take Ryker.” “I will ask him,” she said with a curt nod. “but before I go, I need to ask you something.” Cassandra got up, walked over to the counter, and picked up a briefcase. “It's related to the trial,” she said, opening the case. She pulled out a folder and placed a picture in front of Ana. “Have you ever seen this snow-globe before?” Instantly, the globe was familiar. “Yes. I remember it. I thought my father— um, Pritchard—was going to give it to me as a gift, and I was so excited because he'd never given me anything before.” “Warren had this?” “Yes. He showed it to me, and then—” “No.” Cassandra cut Ana off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t tell me any more. We need to put this in Warren's possession, so it helps if you saw him with it.” “Why don’t you want to know more? I can tell you—” “No, no.” She shook her head, hushing Ana again. “You're testifying for the defense, and I really shouldn’t be asking you about this. The last thing we want are the charges dropped because of some legal technicality or breach of ethics.” “But if I can help, I—”

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Satisfying the Curse Cassandra reached out and stroked Ana's hair. “All I want you to do is get up on the stand and tell the truth, Juliana. I know you will.” Her comment struck a notion in Ana's head, and her heart started to shout at her. That's what Ryker said! He never asked me to lie. When they made their deal, his only request was for her to get up on the stand and tell the truth. Did she overreact? No. He’d lied to her about who he was, the nephew of the woman Warren Pritchard had been accused of killing. Ana couldn’t be sure that when the time did come, Ryker wouldn’t have tried to encourage her to alter her testimony. But now she'd never know, and she'd also never know if she could trust him. That hurt more than anything else. She looked at Cassandra and gave the same promised she’d given to Ryker. “I plan on telling the truth.” **** “Mrs. Chambers is going to Washington tonight to meet with the lawyers before the trial,” Agent Josie Deetz said as she stood in the doorway to the library, where Ryker was lounging in a chair reading the newspaper. He enjoyed the childhood pictures of Juliana and liked being around them. She was so innocent, and the longer he stared at her sweet smiles, the more he wanted to protect her, to keep her safe in his arms. Not bothering to look up from the paper, he said, “You go.” Josie huffed, and then walked into the room. “Mrs. Chambers wanted me to ask if you could go with her.” He glanced up at Agent Deetz. “Well, tell her I’m staying here.” She scowled at him. “If you hurt that girl, I’ll—” Ryker noted the agent's defensive stance and presumed she was talking about Juliana, so he had to cut her off. “No one is going to get the opportunity to hurt her. That's why I’m staying right here.” “Ana doesn’t want you to stay with her.” “I don’t give a shit what she wants.” Ryker calmly rested the paper on his lap and gave the fuming agent a hard glare. “Did Juliana—or you, for that matter, a fucking NESA agent—did either

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of you care what I wanted when I was drugged and tied to a bed like a goddamn animal?” Shame made a quick dance across her face. “I had no idea who you were. I wouldn't have done that if I’d known—” “What? If you’d known I was the NESA agent assigned to Juliana? It doesn’t make a difference who I am. That was some crazy, criminal bullshit, and you know it, agent or not.” “Yes.” She lifted a pledging hand. “I agree it wasn’t one of my better decisions. She's led such a solitary life, all-girl schools, a father who didn’t love her. She has no real friends. I don’t think she's ever had anyone to rely on, anyone to believe in or trust. So, yes, I gave in to her ridiculous curse because I wanted to show her that someone does care enough about her to help. Besides, from my understanding, you had no problem playing along with the curse either. The difference is, I did it because I care about her.” Her eyes slanted. “Can you say the same about your motives?” “My motives, where Juliana is concerned, are none of your damn business” His temper was rising to an unruly level, and the weightless newspaper became heavy. It created a barrier and kept him rooted in the chair. Josie's words had cut him deeply. Juliana had trusted him, but he had let her down. She’d confessed she cared about him, that she was falling for him, but he had let her down. She had said she thought he felt something for her, too, but he had lied to her, and in the interim, he had again let her down. “Agent Ryker.” Her blue eyes softened as though she could see his anguish. “You know you can’t protect anyone forever, least of all Ana.” Forever? Now there's an unreachable dream, Ryker thought. “No, but I can at least see her safely through this trial.” “And then what?” Agent Deetz challenged. “You just walk away? Don't forget I spent six months with Ana. Although she may come off as being a bit odd, she's a caring, strong, wonderful woman. Personally, whether you want to believe it or not, I think you're gonna have one hell of a hard time walking away from a woman like that. Even if she did still want you, I'm not entirely certain you deserve her.”

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Satisfying the Curse “You're right, I don’t.” He couldn’t miss the astonishment that blossomed in Josie Deetz’s eyes when he'd said it. “But my job is to keep her safe until the trial is through, so back the fuck off and do your job. You need to go with Mrs. Chambers tonight because I'm not leaving Juliana under anyone’s protection but my own.” The agent glared at him with reprimanding eyes for a long, hard minute before she stormed out of the room. Ryker had to forgive her for her part in his drugging and capture. In fact, he almost respected Deetz for the dedication and admiration she’d shown to Juliana. If Ryker couldn’t look after Juliana himself, he would have some confidence in letting Josie Deetz doing the job. The past few days had been hell. Whenever he wandered into a room where Juliana was, the walls seemed to close in, shrinking and pressing against him, as though some cosmic power was forcing him closer to her. But she was miles away, distant and cold. Each and every time, he longed to reach out, to pull her to him and express his regret for hurting her, for betraying her. Josie Deetz had been correct. He didn’t deserve Juliana, neither her forgiveness nor her love. Although the plan was to seduce her, that wasn’t how it had started out. In fact, in the beginning, Juliana was the one doing the seducing. She stimulated his body, baited his hungry sex drive, engaged his unreachable dreams, and captivated his heart. And what the hell did he do to repay her for that? Every incredible emotion she had touched and brought to life within him, he crushed with his dishonesty, with his unyielding greed for revenge against Warren Pritchard. Ryker tilted his weary head back against the chair and closed his eyes. He was so damn tired. He felt like he'd just taken a good asskickin’ in an MMA fight. His current opponent, the green-eyedvirgin, had walloped him straight in the heart with her first strike, and now he lay defenseless on the mat, his eyelids lowering from her fatal knockout. **** It was dark, and the sun no longer filtered through the window. Ryker blinked in an attempt to regulate his vision in the shadowy 167

library. Did I fall asleep? Shit! What time is it? He moved the crumpled newspaper from his lap and caught the dark, sexy silhouette standing in the doorway, surrounded by a dim light. He rose to his feet and took a step toward the alluring profile, stopping as soon as he could see her poignant eyes. “Juliana?” he lazily inquired. She slipped to the side of the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest. She had his t-shirt on, the one she'd worn the first night they stayed at Cassandra's home, and the oversized garment somehow managed to flatter her figure. Or perhaps it was the other way around. She was perfect, as if she belonged inside his things— his shirt, his bed, his heart. “I assume you didn’t want to go with Cassandra. You sent Josie instead.” He hitched a thumb into the front pocket of his jeans, “What brought you to that conclusion, Einstein?” “I requested that Josie stay with me tonight, and when I didn’t get what I wanted, I could only assume that was your fault. So tell me, Ryker, why'd you send Josie with Cassandra?” She lifted her chin and met him head on. “Why did you want to be here with me?” “Because it’s my job. I'm the one assigned to protect you.” “Bullshit! Cassandra hired you, so she has the say on who protects me and when. Josie is just as capable of doing it as you are. So, I ask again, why did you insist on staying here with me tonight?” His legs moved without permission until he stood in front of her. He scrolled his eyes over her unwavering face, down to her heaving chest. “Because I don't trust anyone else.” He gazed back up at her, revealing the impudent truth. “Well, I don't trust you.” He fastened his other thumb into the belt loop of jeans, deterring his hands from the need to touch her, confining them for her sake. He shrugged. “Perhaps not, and you have good reason not to, but I can guarantee you this, Princess. It won’t change the facts.” “The facts?” “That I will do my job, and I will keep you safe.” She didn’t back down from his nearness, but her grim smile faded. “Were you going to use me to get what you wanted?” 168

Satisfying the Curse Staring at her distressed expression, he wanted to pull her into his agonizing and worn-out body, whisper in her ear that he’d never meant to hurt her, and kiss away the revulsion she held for him in her sad eyes. He wasn’t sure what her reaction might be, though. Would she slap him across the face again, like she had when she first found out who he was, or would she kiss him back? Either way, he chickened out, but there was one truth he could offer, even though he knew it wouldn’t soothe her. “If it came down to it”—He lowered his head, tempting his mouth as it lingered, stealing a breath from hers—”Yes, I'd do anything to put Warren Pritchard away for the murder of Janie Crawford.” He looked at her with conviction. “Anything.” The first crack wasn’t as bad as the next few, Ana decided. Her heart splintered and lay broken and trodden in her ribcage. She was afraid to move, fearful that all that pain would surge to the rest of her body, leaving her incapacitated. She told herself to breathe, and when her lungs obeyed and the air expelled, Ryker walked away. She watched his stern and determined back as he left her. Then she slumped against the wall. Her breaths quickened, and the oxygen cleared her foggy head. She had come to confront him, to find out the truth. And as much as it had hurt her, that was what he’d told her. But she wasn’t done with him, not yet, because that wasn’t the only reason she’d ventured into the dark library. As he went down the hall, she willed the strength to call him back. “The night we came here,” she began, swallowing hard and knowing it was a long shot, but one worth taking, “you asked me to stay with you. Then you—you told me to never leave you.” He stopped. While his back remained still and rigid, his hesitation made Ana's heart hopeful, and it started to slowly mend. “Ryker, I understand why you lied to me. That doesn't make it right, but I get it.” His broad shoulders remained inflexible and resolute. “Tell me the truth—not only about the deceitful things you've done, but admit it all. Tell me how you feel about me. Do you care at all, or was it just an act to get what you wanted?” She braced herself with her palms against the wall. 169

Ryker shifted. A few quick strides brought him back and, he placed his hands on the wall on either side of her head. He pinned and secured her body, stopping it from its impending fall. The heat of his eyes lashed at her face. “It was an act, Juliana. Just an act to get what I wanted,” he answered huskily. Her heart shattered all over again. Her legs buckled. He caught her, clasping a strong arm around her waist. With his other hand, he cupped the back of her neck. “And what I wanted, what I've always wanted”—he glared at her—”all I’ve wanted is you.” His mouth came crashing down on hers. When Ana threw her arms around him, he deepened the kiss, his tongue conquering and wicked. His hand rushed from her waist to her thigh, and he yanked it up and wedged his body between her legs. He pushed until his muscles, his hips, and his hard erection molded her. She let out a cry from the sheer pleasure of his arousal pressing into her, from the hunger in his savage kiss. Wrapping his fingers around her hair, he tugged her head back and hit her neck with his lips, the very spot where her pulse raced and throbbed. He struck her flesh with hot, sucking kisses. Another whimper slipped from her quivering lips. She writhed against him, begging for more, and wedging a hand between their bodies, he slithered his hand beneath her panties and drove his finger deep inside her, giving her more. This time, it wasn’t merely a teasing inch. This time Ryker completely filled her. He pumped and thrust it inside her. Ana sucked in a harsh breath. It was painfully exhilarating. With his hand still controlling her head, fisted in her hair, Ryker's heavy-lidded eyes shot a passionate glance at her face. He plunged his finger up and moved in circles. Her barriers melting away, Ana kept her eyes on his. She moaned, welcoming the bittersweet intrusion. “Do you want more?” His urgent voice stroked the parts of her body that his fingers couldn’t touch. Ana gazed at him, at his eyes saying he wanted to give her more. “Yes. I want all of you,” she choked out between short gasps. He withdrew his finger.

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Satisfying the Curse She panicked, then felt the pressure, the thickness in her tight opening. Two fingers? Her head fell back, and his hand followed. He pulled her hair, furthering her arch as he slid his strong fingers in and out of her. She cried out. The long and suffering sound rumbled from her, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him. All of him. She raised her head to find him intently watching her face. “Take me to the bedroom, Ryker,” she pleaded, not caring about the desperation in her tone. His fingers slipped out of her. An eerie calm washed over his body. Ana knew that wasn’t good. She was prepared to fight for what she wanted, and there was no way he was getting out of it after all he’d put her through. Whether he wanted to or not, Ryker was going to be the one to take her virginity, and it was going to happen this very night, this very moment. His hand left off gripping her hair to brush her cheek with his knuckles. Ana knew he was setting up for her fall, and she had to do something to stop him. She was prepared and so very ready. As he stroked her face, Ryker's expression turned serious. “I care about you,” he softly said. Ana's esteemed ready lost its giddy-up. She stared at him in awe. “I'm not denying what I said to you the other night.” A wayward grin formed upon his delicious mouth. “And I'm not going to try to convince you that I said it because I wasn't thinking straight, because of blood loss or any other excuse.” He ran a finger over her trembling lower lip. He gazed at it as if lost in his thought. Ana tried to make sense of what he was saying. Is he admitting it? That he cares for me? His dark lashes lifted, and stabbing those black and sinful eyes at her, he took a step back, removing his warmth. Ana, still wilting from his proclamation, waited. He crammed his hands into his pockets. “And because I care about you, I want to give you the chance to run.” She shook her head. “What?” Did she hear him right? Was he telling her to run away from him? Well, that was not going to happen. Not tonight, and maybe not ever. 171

His eyes were hooded again, heavy with dominance. “In about three seconds, I'm going to pick you up and carry you into your bedroom, strip your clothes from your body, and bury myself so deep inside of you.” He leaned in toward her. “So deep, you're gonna scream. It's going to be fast and hard, and it will hurt, but when I start, there will be nothing—and I mean nothing—that will be able to stop me.” There was no missing his intended warning, for it was bold and abrasive. In spite of her doubts about things he had said and done before, she knew that in this moment, he was telling her the truth. But nothing was going to deter her from getting what she wanted—not his threatening eyes, his intrepid words, or his suggestive feral touch. She needed him. “I'm not running from you. I don’t want you to be gentle with me. It's not my curse that needs you. It's not my damn virginity that needs to be coddled. Take me hard and fast. I want you, Ryker, and I don’t want you to hold anything back. Just be yourself with me, whoever you are.” It was a little longer than three seconds, but Ana's heart came back together in one quick whoosh as Ryker swept her up into his arms and carried her down the hallway. “You don’t know what you're getting yourself into, Princess,” he murmured, looking straight ahead as they walked into her bedroom. “Actually, it will be you getting into me, and I am perfectly aware of what is about to happen,” she assured him when he lowered her to her feet beside the bed. She placed her hands on the bottom of his t-shirt. “You don’t scare me,” she said and pulled the shirt from his body, exposing his flexed and solid chest. His pectoral muscle flinched when she touched him. She spread her hand over his brawny chest, and then trailed a finger along the thin line of hair to the start of his jeans. He watched her, and that intense, wild look in his dark eyes encouraged her to continue her tease. She unsnapped the band and pulled down the zipper. The supremacy of his manhood pressed against her hand, fierce and raging to get out. Ryker snatched her by the wrists. “I should scare you.” He pushed her back onto the bed and stood over her, his hands balled into thick fists that would have intimidated any punk in any dark 172

Satisfying the Curse alley. His muscles gathered and knotted with impressive but untamed power. He was a magnificent specimen, but as resilient and powerful as his body was, his eyes flickered with reluctance. Oh no! Now wasn’t the time for him to go dragging his beautiful feet! She could see it, though, just past the hesitation in his eyes. Ryker wanted her too. She just needed to reach that part of him. She sat up and pulled his way-too-big shirt from her body, slipped off her panties, and settled on the bed. Naked and unabashed, she seductively sprawled out. Running a hand over her swollen breasts, she tweaked a nipple, watching his indecision begin to dissipate. She lowered her hand to her belly, and as he watched, slipped it lower, between her legs. She smiled when she heard him growl. The reluctance in his dark gaze vanished, and a spark of fire—an undeniable desire—shimmered in his blazing eyes. “Fast and hard.” She spread her legs and stroked herself. “Wasn’t that what you said?” “Don’t take this lightly,” he warned, not moving his eyes from her hand. He pulled off his jeans in one clean sweep. He got on the bed and nudged up between her legs. He grabbed her hands, pushed them over her head, then slammed them down onto the mattress. His weight crushed her, and Ana caught her breath from his masterful control. “This should be special for you.” His hot breath singed her body as he pressed her hands against the bed. Furious, yet somewhat bemused, he looked down at her. “You should be doing this with someone you love.” “Who says it's not…special?” She couldn’t say what she really wanted, that she loved him, but she had a sense Ryker got it just the same. His mouth claimed hers at the exact moment she felt him enter her. She yelled—not a weak whimper, nor a cry of blissful pleasure, but a scream of sheer pain. Dropping his head on her shoulder, Ryker let out a harsh sigh and his body went rigid. “Fuck, Juliana,” he said, his voice grating and breathless. “I can't stop now.” Ana could hear the desperation in his words. “Don't, then. Stay inside me, Ryker.” She worried that he'd retreat. Although the 173

unexpected thrust of his hard and thick erection had surprised her, she wasn't ready to tell him to stop. His fingers moved until hers were entwined with them. He lifted his head, and the pain she was feeling had somehow transferred into his dark eyes. “There's no safe word for you tonight,” he ruthlessly said. “You don’t know me. You don’t know where I come from, what I'm made of, what I'm capable of doing—” “What are you talking about?” She searched his blank expression for an answer, but he ignored her plea for a response. “Nothing can take you away from me right now.” Lacking his usual caution, he heatedly glared at her. “I've waited too long, and I need you too much.” He withdrew from her. “Just relax, Princess. Let yourself become familiar with me.” He grunted hoarsely as he pushed himself back into her. The sensuously slow action stretched her. Her walls wrapped around him and made friends with his manhood, became familiar with Ryker. Suddenly, the pain turned to an unquenchable ache, and she wanted more. Her hips bore down, taking him farther. When he pulled out, she arched, calling him back. His thrust went from cautious and tempered to wild and bucking. His fingers squeezed hers as he pushed and pulled the agonizing pleasure of his arousal from her. She twisted her fingers, but he wouldn’t let her go. “I want to touch you.” She winced, needing to feel his primacy beneath her hands. “No,” he grumbled. “That’s the only thing holding me back from devouring you in a way that will make you scream again.” “Damn it, Ryker,” she hissed, darting him an irate look. “Fuck me!” Something snapped in him, and the tight hold he had on her hands released. He scored her heated flesh with his palms. Roughly, he fondled her breasts and stroked her hips and belly. She reached up and grabbed his shoulders, and when his finger found her clit, a rush of excitement and primal need shot through her. He rubbed her sensitive nub while he continued to pump her full of his hot, hard flesh. “I'll fuck you, all right, Juliana.” He picked up the speed of his finger and his sinful penetration. “But not till I hear you cum, 174

Satisfying the Curse for only then will you be completely ready for me.” His need gleamed in his eyes. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She wanted him fast and hard. The marvelous feel of him, the attention he gave to her body, twisted to her stomach. Warm and liquefied, it surged down to his splendid touch between her legs. She arched with frenzied yearning, closer to his touch, “Ryk—” Her heart stopped, her nerves halted, and the only thing she felt was the white-hot flash of wonderful spasms that took over. Ryker shifted up, kneeling possessively before her, and she bent her knees to welcome the new position. His large hands apprehended her hips. With controlled authority, he pulled her up and ground her against him, rotating his hips to move deep within her. Vigorously, he claimed her body… and her heart. “Oh yes, take me Ryker, harder!” In response, his fingers dug into her flesh, jerking her violently, and the hot sashay of flesh on flesh intensified. She matched his aggressive movements and met him with each thrust. She opened her eyes and saw that his expression was ardent, serious, and unrelenting. He, too, was nearing his breaking point, and if Ana had harbored any doubt before, in that instant, she fell absolutely and utterly in love with him. She reached out her hand and cupped his stern cheek. His lids lowered slightly as he sank his face into her touch. The feral desire in his eyes softened, replaced by an unmistakable devotion, and he nestled and kissed the palm of her hand. “Ryker, I— I—” He gazed at her as though he knew the words “I love you” were about to fall from her lips. Dropping down, his arms came around her, hushing the dangerous words before her lips could give birth to them. He held her tightly against his hard and trembling body. “Juliana—” His breath was hot and moist upon her skin, and with quivering hands he cradled her head. “Juliana,” he said her name again as his lips pressed against her cheek. “You have stolen my heart.” His voice was low and husky, vigilant but peculiarly certain. He looked at her, and she fell silent, lost to his loving gaze, abandoned to his paranormal essence. “I am forever yours.” He 175

kissed her, and Ana yielded to his sincere declaration, “And you, my sweet princess—” His arms came around her now tremulous body, their dominant hold tightening as he plunged deeply inside of her. “You are forever mine,” he growled, burying himself into her, touching her heated core with the decree of his everlasting claim. His male heat became a magical wand, zapping a miraculous spell throughout her body. He filled her with his affection, and she surrounded him with her love.

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Chapter Sixteen Ryker's confidence subsided. His power was depleted, and his treasured discipline had jumped on the first flight to that ethereal world where a man's heart goes when he realizes he's in love. And when he accepts that his cherished self-ruling, free-to-do-whateverthe fuck-you-want life will no longer exist. For now, that man had someone else to consider—the beautiful woman who was waiting for him in that wraithlike world, waiting and holding his heart. Ryker spilled his entire existence into Juliana's body. Freely, each burst of unconditional emotion flooded from him. While he fought for his breath, her name fell warm and erratic from his arid throat as he shuddered and convulsed with his way-overdue release. Juliana joined him, her sweet cries chiming in his ears. She clawed her fingertips into his back until her nails dug deep into him, bringing their climax, their togetherness to a soul-shattering end. As Ryker came harder, more passionate than he had any other time in his life, as though it were his first time, he comprehended it was all just an end to a new beginning. The smell of sex, mixed with her sweet, natural scent, infused his nose. Moving his hands from her heaving body, he pushed his palms into the mattress to lift his heavy body up so as not to crush her. She didn’t let go of him. Her hands held firmly to his back. Ryker gazed down at her and again realized there was nothing so beautiful as Juliana Pratt. His chest tightened, for he knew he was digging a hole when it came to Juliana. He just hadn’t known the destination was going to be to eternity. Even with the shovel to the ground, the job wasn’t ever going to get done. Not one, two, or three nights would settle the need or desire he had for her. To make matters worse, he’d announced his confession during their astounding sex, acknowledged and declared that he was forever hers. From the way she was gleaming up at him, he knew he couldn’t take it back.

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“Hey, Princess.” He smiled, more to himself for his blunder. For finally giving into her curse, her seductive green eyes, her bewitching spirit. A sly grin prinked her already flushed and rosy cheeks. “Agent T. Ryker,” she teased in a sexy bedroom-huskiness voice. She slipped her hands to the front of him and placed them on his chest. Her head gingerly tilted. “Your pulse is so fast.” “Then I guess we'll have to wait a bit before we do that again.” He searched her face. “You okay?” “A little sore, but once that heart of yours slows down,” she said, her lips molding into a full-blown, playful smile, “I'm more than willing to have another go at it. I never expected sex to be so—so unexplainable, so incredibly awesome, so fabulously arcane!” Ryker arched a brow. “Well, now you know,” he said, planting a light kiss on her love-swollen lips. “And that was only because it was with me.” Ah. Relief washed over him. Confidence, power, and discipline restored. He was back in charge. “Really?” Her eyes twinkled. Moving his hips, probing her insides, he enjoyed the sudden change in her expression, from mischievous to seductively sensuous. “Trust me” had almost slipped from his mouth, but considering his previous behavior, he assumed Juliana's trust wasn’t going to come so easily now. He was all right with that. He knew it might take some time, but he intended to prove himself worthy of her trust. It was either that or drop the shovel and climb into that damn hole he'd started to dig for himself. “Yes, Juliana, I can assure you no other man will ever love your beautiful body as much as I do.” “Watch it, Ryker. Keep talking like that and I may start believing you actually care about me.” Uncertainty wavered in her voice. “I never denied caring about you.” He needed to tread lightly and wait until after the trial to figure out what he was feeling. In any case, when she discovered who he was, Warren Pritchard's son, she might want nothing to do with him anyway, great sex or not. Then where would his forever end up? A long and lonely journey, absent of the woman who held his heart? He couldn’t let that happen. Ryker rolled onto his side, allowing Juliana’s hands to slip from his 178

Satisfying the Curse body. He reached out and pulled her against him until her head rested on his chest. “I think that's enough for tonight. You need your rest.” He ran a hand over her long, dark hair. She turned up and looked at him. “Chicken.” He chuckled. “I don’t want to give you any false hope here.” She eyed him for excruciating seconds, and her face twisted from hurt to cynical. “We had sex, Ryker.” She nuzzled her face against his shoulder. “Falling in love with the first man I sleep with? Spare me the cliché, would you?” “It would have been better for your first time, Juliana, better to be with someone you were already in love with.” He stroked her hair and felt her body tremble against his. “I'm sorry.” He kissed her on the top of her head. “You deserved at least that.” He drew his hand down her long mane, reflecting. Love aside, he’d just created a huge problem. Regardless of how or why it happened, Juliana Pratt was no longer a virgin. No longer off limits. **** The night Ryker took Ana's virginity, he'd stayed in her bed and held her in his arms. The next night, she was awakened from a deep sleep to feel him kissing her neck and feathering his fingertips upon the soft folds between her legs. The following day, while she was taking a late evening shower, he joined her. He was a wonderful lover, unselfish and always putting her needs first. He was patient and tolerant of her inexperience. His voice was always coaxing and reassuring, but he always stayed firmly in control. Two days earlier, when the trial got underway, Ryker's nighttime visits had stopped. He transformed himself into a staid agent, more so than she'd ever known him to be. He began to treat her like an assignment, a mere client, and Ana didn’t like that one bit. The first day of the trial, there were a few character witnesses. By all accounts, they made it clear that Janie Crawford had been an honest and loving person. The second day, the prosecutor introduced the incriminating evidence discovered by Gayle Roberts, Janie's secretary during the time of the murder. This verified that Janie was investigating Warren Pritchard and that Pritchard had threatened Janie's life. So far, it appeared as though they had a pretty good case against the millionaire. 179

Ana sat behind Warren Pritchard during the trial. It sickened her to portray the doting daughter, but Cassandra insisted on it, saying she didn’t want Pritchard to suspect Ana knew the truth about not being his daughter. Ana played her part, the same Oscar-worthy performance she’d offered during the interviews, but all she felt about him was curiosity. Was the once-a-month father she had thought she knew all her life actually a killer? After taking a shower and missing Ryker's company, she wandered into the kitchen to fix herself something to eat. The house was quiet. Cassandra and Josie had gone out an hour earlier to some benefit Cassandra was adamant about attending. Deciding on a salad, Ana placed the lettuce, tomatoes, and other vegetables on the counter. The scent of the fresh veggies was suddenly overtaken by a strong aroma of an uncultivated forest, and Ana smiled. “I still don't understand why you wouldn’t let me go with them,” she said, dicing a tomato. “Because it wouldn’t have been safe.” Ryker's deep, husky voice trailed from behind her. With her back to him, Ana could already imagine what his expression looked like—strict and unwavering. “Why? Pritchard's not going to send any of his goons after me so long as he thinks I'm still on his side. Besides, Josie would have been there to look after me.” “Wait.” He paused, perhaps in thought. “You knew it was Pritchard who ordered those attacks on you?” “Yes,” Ana confirmed. “And that didn’t make you suspicious about him being a killer?” She shrugged and reached for a fresh green pepper. “No. I assumed he was just trying to scare me,” she said. It was the truth. “Scare you into saying what he wants at the trial?” Ana ignored his question and chopped the peppers. “I don’t suppose there's any way I can convince you to skip the trial tomorrow, is there?” Now that question, she had to answer. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Ryker leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded over his naked chest. At least he had jeans on. God! Why did the man have to be so perfectly proportioned? And those black eyes! 180

Satisfying the Curse So wicked and sinfully inviting. “Uh—” She drew out the word, absorbing the image before her. “You've got about one chance in a million of convincing me of that.” She turned her back to him to finish chopping her salad. That natural woodsy scent became stronger, and Ana glanced to her left at the full-length mirror strategically placed in the small kitchen, no doubt to give it a larger appearance. She hadn’t heard him move, but he was standing directly behind her as if he’d magically transported himself. She wouldn’t put it past him. “Place your palms on the counter.” His warm breath brought life to the tiny hairs on the nape of her neck. “Wh-what?” She stuttered, shaking. “Why?” With her heart thundering and her core tightening, she watched him in the mirror as he leaned in toward her ear. “You said I have a chance in a million, so I'm taking my one chance,” he rasped, his breath no longer warm but searing. “Now be a good girl, drop the knife, and put your palms on the counter.” Ana couldn’t resist the tone of his voice. It was the same one he used in the bedroom and in the shower—a voice full of promises, very gratifying, blissful, sexual promises. She pushed the knife across the counter a safe distance away and placed her palms on the counter, suddenly feeling very naked in her humble long cotton nightshirt. He drew back a lock of her hair and whispered, “There's my pretty, good girl.” He nibbled her ear. “Now look straight ahead.” “But I want to—” “You can only look at me when I give you permission, Princess.” He bit her neck, and his hands trailed down her sides to the edge of her shirt. “Lift up your arms.” Ana obeyed his every command until she was standing there in nothing but her slinky G-string. Realizing how exposed she was right there in the kitchen, she started to fidget. “Palms back on the counter,” he sternly said. She welcomed his control and obeyed again. The heat from his body retracted, and Ana became nervous. “Move your ass back and spread your legs.” Searching for him, for his touch, she did as she was instructed. 181

“That's it, Princess,” he grunted as she felt his hand cover her bare ass. “Offer yourself to me.” Ana swayed her hips, not so much offering but begging. Her skimpy lingerie tightened around her waist before she heard the rip, and she gasped just before it was stripped from her body. She desperately wanted to look at the mirror, but instead she squeezed her eyes shut as she felt Ryker's fingers slide from behind between her legs to her swollen and pulsating clitoris. Stroking her, he huskily ordered, “Lift your hips.” She arched to meet his touch, standing almost on her tiptoes like a ballerina. He drove a finger inside her, plunged, and vacated. “Higher,” he said, somewhere between and grunt and a groan. “Oh yeah.” He squeezed her ass cheek as he tunneled his finger deeper. “My sexy princess, you are so fucking hot.” The hiss of his zipper snapped her eyes open and forced her head to turn to the left. “Uh-uh,” Ryker gruffly warned. She cringed, not only between her legs, as she stared straight ahead. The sound of denim falling on the tile twisted that cringe into an unbearable ache. The extremely provocative position was new to her, but sexy as hell. Ryker had never taken her from behind, and when his hands fisted her ass cheeks and when he spread her open, Ana realized she wanted him to go ahead with it. That she wanted to feel him this way. In one fluid movement, his firm hot flesh speared into her. A cry rumbled from her parched throat. “Okay,” he said with a labored breath, entering her again, more slowly this time, “you can look now.” Ana twisted her head. Ryker's naked, powerful side profile was sublime. It took her breath away. His biceps, thighs, and excellent ass muscles ripped with each dominant thrust. The slapping sound of flesh on flesh enhanced the vision before her, and the sexual excitement grew inside her as if there were a volcano simmering within, waiting to release hot lava.

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Satisfying the Curse One of his hands lifted to her tender breast. His fingers molded around it. He bent over her, and his rhythm remained steady but tantalizing. He whispered into her ear. “Have I convinced you yet?” Panic swarmed her. How do I answer that? She tried to read him, but she couldn’t see his face in the mirror. All she could see was that exotic body of his, that strong hand on her breast and his ass as it pumped all his power into her. Damn! She didn’t want it to stop. “Hmm….” She mulled over her next choice of words. “I think”—she winced from the pressure of his manhood pressing deeper into her sheath—”I think I need a little more time before I make a final decision.” “No, you don’t,” he flatly said. “Your mind is made up, and we both know you're going to do whatever you want.” He removed his hand from her breast and smacked her hard on the ass. “But I'm not going to let you get away with it without some kind of punishment.” He slapped her again on her ass cheek. She cried out from the sheer ecstasy of his dominance, and yet another strong and hard hit landed on her tender flesh. He grabbed her by the hips, using his grip as leverage, and plunged his cock deeper inside her. “And I can't resist you. But we both know that too.” Ryker violently jerked her hips, plunging himself into her over and over again. With the sting upon her ass still alive, needing something to grasp onto, Ana's fingers scraped the countertop. She arched in wild response, taking the aggressive punishment his cock delivered to her. She accepted his forceful reprimand until he growled. The primitive sound, like a flint to her fire, sparked her insides and released her orgasm. She cried out his name, and he responded with another drawn-out growl, finally ending with a shudder and his own release. **** In the courtroom, Ryker sat next to Cassandra on the prosecution side, while Ana sat with Josie in the row behind Warren Pritchard. She glanced over at Ryker and saw that he was wearing the same expression as any other day of the trial, flat, somber and unreadable. No matter how incriminating the testimony or evidence was, Ryker seemed to have no response.

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His gaze slid over to her. He didn’t smile, but he slightly tilted his head and lowered his lids as he stared at her. In that moment, Ana fell in love with him all over again. Somewhere between the sheets and the shower and the salad, she had forgiven him. The more she understood and got to know the stubborn man, the more she realized Ryker couldn’t help but to lie to her about who he really was. He had loved his Aunt Janie, and he'd do anything to bring her killer to justice. Anything, just as he’d said. The courtroom quieted as the judge came into the room and called the court to order, slamming his gavel against the sound block. Ryker's head slowly turned from Anna as the prosecutor's voice broke the silence. “I'd like to call my next witness, Trent Ryker.” Ana's head jolted forward. Had she heard correctly? Her gaze snapped back to Ryker, who was making his way to his feet. His eyes were focused on the prosecutor as he started toward the front of the courtroom. Ana watched him take a seat in the witness chair. He placed his hand on the Bible for the customary swear-in. “Trent Ryker, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” Trent? So his name is Trent. Ana felt a wave of guilt wash over her, as if she’d inadvertently invaded his privacy. He’d never offered his first name to her willingly, in spite of her pleas. Trent. “I do,” Ryker confirmed. His voice had pulled Ana away from her trivial anguish, leaving her to wonder what he was doing up there on the stand and what testimony he could possibly add to the case. The prosecutor, Kathryn Jensen, rose from her chair. “Mr. Ryker, could you please tell the jury your occupation and your relationship to the victim, Janie Crawford?” Ryker looked at Kathryn Jensen. “I work for the National Elite Security Agency, NESA. Janie Crawford is”—he stopped for a millisecond, but his blank expression didn’t crack when he finished—”she was my mother's sister.” “And your mother was Susan Ryker, correct?” With his eyes still locked onto Jensen's, Ryker gave a curt nod. “Correct.”

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Satisfying the Curse Jensen walked over to her table, picked up a document, and raised it for the room to see. “I would like to present Exhibit D-1, a police report dated July 3, 1974. This report states that Susan Ryker had been raped on that date. At the time of the incident, her assailant was unknown.” Ana's stomach did a somersault. Ryker's father was a rapist? Even though Ryker didn’t seem to be responding to the inquisition, as if he was numb to it, Ana could feel the pain he must be going through. Jensen handed the document to the officer and turned to a grave Trent Ryker. “How old was your mother when she gave birth to you?” Ryker remained impassive as he replied, “Fifteen.” “You were born on April 12, 1975, nine months after your mother was raped, correct?” “Objection!” the defense lawyer, Jack Riley, intervened. “Your Honor, I don’t see where this is going. Is counsel attempting to charge my client with the rape of Susan Ryker during this trial?” Wait. What? Ana surged forward in her seat. Was she understanding it clearly? Was the prosecution trying to accuse Warren Pritchard of raping Ryker's mother? Oh my God! That would mean Pritchard is Ryker’s— The judged raised a brow at Jensen. “Counsel?” “Please, Judge, allow me to continue. Although, Susan Ryker was only fourteen at the time of her rape, there are no statutes of limitations on rape. I only intend to show motive for Warren Pritchard to kill Janie Crawford.” Okay, relax. Maybe there's another reason why they are bringing up the incident, Ana thought, easing back into the chair. “Overruled. Mr. Ryker. Please answer the question.” “Yes,” Ryker said. His mother was only a child herself, raped and impregnated. That was horrible enough, but another thought entered Ana's head. Surely she must have been a virgin. The painful squeeze in her heart made it stutter and skip a few beats as she realized that might explain his reluctance to make love to her. Clearly, he had made some sort of deep-rooted pledge not to violate virgins because of 185

what happened to his mother. Suddenly the trivial pain of finding out his name was overtaken by the guilt she felt for pushing Ryker to be with her. Jensen walked over to her table and lifted three more documents. “I would like to present Exhibits D-2, D-3, and D-4, hospital records.” She handed the documents to the officer. “Mr. Ryker, do you recall being treated for a spiral fracture of your left arm when you were four years old?” “No!” Ana gasped in an inaudible whisper, and Josie reached out and grabbed her hand. Ana knew what a spiral fracture was. It could only happen from a bone being twisted, and it was common in child abuse cases. Oh no! She started to shake her head, and her chest tightened. Had his mother physically abused him? Ryker's back stiffened. He hid it well, but Ana sensed his tension. He was trapped in that chair with no escape, and she could feel his torment as his horrifying childhood was exposed. There was a slight flinch in the crest of his cheek as he responded. “I remember having a cast on my arm, but no, I don’t recall how it happened.” “What about when you were five, when you were taken to the emergency room for three cracked ribs and a concussion? A few months later, you were back in the ER for second-degree burns on your stomach and chest. Do any of these incidents ring a bell?” The image of what he had been through as a child flashed before Ana's eyes. He was only five years old, unable to defend himself. The sadness knotted inside of her, consuming her. “Stop!” Everyone in the courtroom turned to look at her. Seeing their notice, Ana snapped out of her emotional collapse. Had she really said that out loud? Josie squeezed her hand. Ana realized she must have been trying to stand up when she blurted it out, for she felt herself being pulled back down onto the bench by Josie's tight hand. “Another outburst like that,” the judge warned, glaring at Ana, “and I will have you removed from my courtroom.” Ana looked over at Ryker. His eyes were fixed on the back of the room, inert and unemotional. The sadness overcame her once more, but as she realized her little outburst was no doubt making 186

Satisfying the Curse Ryker's personal exposure worse, she nodded at the judge with understanding and eased back onto the bench. “Yes, I remember being in the ER.” Ryker's deep voice broke through the tension in the room. Jensen, who was also looking at Ana, circled around and then return her full attention back to Ryker. “You recall those incidents?” “Yes.” “How did they happen?” “My mother pushed me down the stairs, and the burns happened when she threw a pan of boiling water at me,” he said, as if casually. Ana's eyes clouded with tears. “Did your mother have a drinking problem?” “Yes, and she was also addicted to pain medications.” The horror of his life was heartwrenching, and Ana's nose burned as the tears reached her ducts. “And at the age of five, you were taken from your mother and put under the care of your aunt, Janie Crawford.” “Yes, and when I was nine years old, my mother died from an overdose.” “Growing up, did you know who your father was?” “No, but when I was a child, my mother reminded me daily that my father was the man who had raped her.” Ana observed her fearless, strong agent, her protector, as he responded matter-of-factly to the questions. Ryker had been hardened by a childhood of abuse, brought down upon him by his own mother. Ana finally understood his stubbornness, his need to be in control, his detachment. It was a defense mechanism, the psychological consequence of a life of unbearable hurt. His mother had shown him no love, and the one woman he trusted and cared for had been killed, ripped away from him. No wonder he wasn’t eager to offer his heart to anyone—even her. Ana's body tensed as Jensen again went over to her table and picked up another sheaf of papers. “And now I would like to present Exhibit D-5, blood tests verifying that Warren Pritchard is, in fact, Agent Trent Ryker's father.”

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Passing out right then came to Ana’s mind, but Josie patted and stroked her hand, preventing her from losing her self control to the sick feelings ambushing her stomach. If Warren Pritchard had really been Ana's father, that would have meant Ryker was her halfbrother. Why didn’t he prepare me for this? Ana couldn’t have possibly expected him to confess to her the horrible truth about his abused childhood and how badly his mother had really treated him, but he could have warned her about Pritchard being his father. Then again, would Ryker have wanted to admit to that, either? It appeared as though Prichard had killed the only woman who had been a mother to Ryker. “And we present to the court Exhibit D-6, Janie Crawford's own notes indicating that she had discovered that Warren Pritchard was the man who raped Susan Ryker. According to these notes, twelve years ago, just days before her murder, Mrs. Crawford confronted Warren Pritchard about it.” Prosecutor Jensen had done her job well. Ryker's testimony and Janie's notes proved that Pritchard had motive to kill Janie Crawford. That type of publicity—claims of rape and child molestation—would have destroyed the millionaire. Potential investors would have run screaming from Pritchard, wanting nothing to do with his holdings. Society never turns a blind eye to rape, especially when a child is involved, and that grim tale of his past indiscretions would have ruined Pritchard, financially and otherwise. “Thank you, Mr. Ryker. I have no further question,” Jensen said and walked over to take her seat. The judge asked, “Does the defense have questions for this witness?” “No,” Jack Riley replied. Of course they didn’t. After all, what could Pritchard's lawyer possibly ask? Pritchard had ruined Susan Ryker's life. Apparently, she'd been suffering from PTSD and had turned to drugs to selfmedicate, to kill the never-ending pain Pritchard had instilled in her. It wasn't that Ana would ever excuse anyone who treated a defenseless child so awfully, especially if that child was little Trent Ryker. But Susan Ryker was only fourteen when she was raped, and 188

Satisfying the Curse then pregnant with her rapist’s baby, huge hurdles for an adolescent girl to jump. Susan Ryker never had a chance, no opportunity to develop into a healthy adult, and that was all Warren Pritchard’s fault. Thinking about what Pritchard had done to Susan and how that affected Ryker as a child, she was unable to prevent her next action. Josie's hold tightened on her hand, but for once, when it came to Daddy Pritchard, nothing was going to stop Ana from speaking her mind. She leaned forward, close to Pritchard's left side. “You bastard,” she hissed with loathing. Pritchard's head snapped around, his beady eyes fastened to hers as an evil grin slithered across. “I hope you burn in hell,” she said with hatred, then held her breath. His sickening, unremorseful, pleased-with-himself smile did not falter, not even for a second. He was that sure he controlled her, sure that she’d say what he wanted. She was prevented from giving him a well-deserved tonguelashing by a pressure on her shoulder. In the same instant, Pritchard's eyes moved above her, his smile turning lethal as he said, “Well, well. It’s nice to meet you, son.” Ana turned and saw Ryker standing behind her. His hand was the pressure on her shoulder. Pritchard’s grin faltered. Ryker's deadly glare frightened even Ana. He looked like he was going to leap over her and kill the bastard. She panicked, fearful that if she didn’t do something, Ryker wouldn't be able to wait for the trial to finish. That he would attempt to end Pritchard’s sorry, worthless life right then and there. She opened her mouth, but Ryker's demeanor abruptly changed. True to his calm, purposeful nature, he pulled his eyes from Pritchard's instigating ones and looked down at her. He offered her his hand. “Let's go,” he said. Releasing the breath she had been holding, Ana reached for him.

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Chapter Seventeen Juliana didn’t say a word as they drove back to Cassandra's house, and Ryker was thankful for that. He needed time to cool down. Hearing Pritchard refer to him as “son” had almost put him over the edge, turned him into a vengeful murderer right in front of a court full of people and a judge. But when he’d looked at Juliana’s face, his only concern had turned to her. He wanted to throttle her for what she’d said to Pritchard, because it put her into danger. Certainly Pritchard now knew he couldn’t trust her testimony, and Ryker was sure the son-of-a-bitch was going to try and get to her before she had a chance to take the stand. When they were in the house, he closed the door, turned, and noted that Juliana's silence was about to break. With her hand on her hip, she raised her chin. “You could have told me Pritchard was your father.” He tossed the keys on the table by the door and punched in the security code. “I didn’t find out myself until the night Cassandra and Josie arrived.” Ryker twisted around to meet her glare. “Cassandra explained everything to me then, about how she knew my mother and my Aunt Janie, and about what that monster did. But it doesn’t change anything. I always knew my father was a rapist.” He shrugged. “Now I know he's a murderer too. It’s just the icing on the damn cake.” He started for the hallway. He needed to get away from her. A storm of pity was brewing up clouds in her beautiful green eyes, and he wanted nothing to do with that kind of downpour. At least not yet. He had enough to deal with. “Ryker!” she called out to him. He continued down the hall, but the woman was relentless. He could hear her heels click-clacking after him. He ignored her. A few more steps and he would be in his room. He planned on shutting himself in there until he had some time to simmer down, time to

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Satisfying the Curse figure out what the fuck to do about the mess she'd made in the courtroom. “Trent?” He halted. It stunned him to hear her say his name. His real name. A flash of his mother appeared before his eyes, and he snapped. He spun around, grabbed Juliana, and pushed her hard against the wall. Her eyes rounded into huge circles of fear. “Don't you ever fucking call me that again!” he snarled, memories of his mother flooding his mind. “Why?” she softly asked as the fear traveled from her eyes to her quivering voice. “She called me that,” he said without thinking, his grip tightening on her arms. “And when she said it, when my mother called me by my name, I could see the hatred, the disgust in her eyes. I was a constant reminder of what he had done to her.” “But it wasn’t your fault, Ryker. She was suffering from posttraumatic stress disorder. She was a child, not fully developed. She didn’t know how to deal with it, and the trauma Pritchard put her through, it—” “Juliana, I didn’t ask for a shrink, so can it with your psychological crap. It’s a bunch of bullshit, and I don’t want to hear it.” He tensed, and she winced from the death-grip he had on her. He let her go and stabbed his fingers through his hair. “You think I don’t understand why my mother turned to drugs and alcohol? Why she—” He couldn’t say the words, speak aloud of what his mother had done to him. Exposing his past in front of a courtroom full of people had been enough for one day. He took a deep breath. “I get it, but that doesn’t mean I can forgive the bitch.” “You're right.” She reached out and touched his arm. “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to judge you.” He recoiled from her touch, feeling as if he didn’t deserve such compassion, such understanding. He didn’t want her, or anyone, to care about him that much. Of all the things Agent T. Ryker could handle, that was not one of them. “Judge me, Juliana? Shit. You should be running the hell away from me. I've got the blood of a

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rapist and a murderer coursing through my veins. Fuck, I couldn’t even stop myself from taking you, a damn virgin.” “You didn’t take me! Damn it, Ryker, you didn’t rape me!” She moved toward him, and he could already feel his body responding to her nearness. “I gave myself to you,” she whispered. “There’s a difference.” He stepped closer, backing her again into the wall. He pushed against her, and their hips and thighs met. Like a mischief-maker, his aggressive erection sought her out. “You think you had a choice when you handcuffed me to that damn bed? When you teased me with that porno while you sucked my cock? Do you really believe you ever had a choice? Your body was sexually deprived. You were so fucking hungry. I could have had you easily on any one of those occasions. See? You may have thought you had a choice, Princess, but the truth is, you were always mine for the taking.” “If at any time I told you to stop, Ryker, you would have. You— you said that yourself. Said you would stop for good if I told you to.” He caught the hint of reservation in her voice as the words tumbled out, and his body stiffened from it. Was she right to doubt him? Would he really have stopped if she’d asked, even if he’d already set out to take her? Was he like his father? A rapist? That he even felt compelled to question himself was answer enough. He had no right to ask for her trust or her heart. He needed to scare her away before he once more took what was always his for the taking— her. “Are you sure about that?” he said. “I am the spawn of a rapist, a murderer. Can you confidently say you really know me at all?” She bit down on her bottom lip, and his chest tightened as her uncertainty, her unmistakable hesitation strangled his heart. He wrenched his body from her and started for his room. “I love you, Trent Ryker.” His hands hit the doorframe. His body surged forward, seeking to run, but her declaration halted him. He had never thought he would hear those words—his name and a proclamation of love in the same breath. It took his own breath away. Ana hadn’t mistaken his harsh words. Whatever he’d said, no matter how crude or malicious he had been, she understood he was 192

Satisfying the Curse trying to dissuade her from loving him. He assumed being Pritchard's son had destined to be a monster too. Now he was gripping the molding as though it was the only thing preventing him from a fall. He wasn’t at all like Pritchard. She knew that. After what was revealed in the courtroom, he just couldn't deal with her confession that she was in love with him. That she was all right with him, no matter where he came from. In her heart she knew, whether he chose to deny it or not, that Ryker cared for her too. Let him hold on to that damn doorframe all night long, she decided, until he figured it out for himself. She didn’t have to wait very long. His hands slowly slid down the wood as his shoulders bunched together into a mountain of power. Standing a foot behind him, Ana refused to retreat. His head shifted over his peak of muscles. His uneasy black-eyed gaze delved into her, as deeply as he’d plunged any other part of his anatomy into her. He quickly shifted, and before she knew it, he had pulled her into his arms. “Don't mistake a good lay for love, Princess.” He smiled, the gesture not making it to his empty eyes. No retreating! “I know you're afraid of what you feel for me, and finding out that Pritchard is your father has messed with your head. Understandably. But I don't care how you were created or who put you on this earth.” She searched his face for some kind of reaction, but he only stared blankly at her. “Like I said, Trent Ryker, I love you.” When she felt his arm move from around her body, she worried he was going to withdraw from her. She relaxed when he raised his hand and brushed his knuckles softly across her cheek. “You caused some problems with your little stunt today.” He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “And now I can't let you back in the courtroom until you are scheduled to testify.” “Did you hear what I said?” Shit! Is the stubborn man really going to ignore my proclamation of love? Her brow furrowed. “I don’t care about that—” “Well, I do.” He dropped his hand from her mouth and did what she had feared. He stepped back from her and walked over to gaze 193

out the window. “If you can't go, that means I need to stay here with you,” he said with a hint of irritation in his tone. Guilt overcame her. She knew he had wanted to be there for the whole trial, to see Pritchard put away for killing his aunt. “No,” she said, shaking her head. She refused to be the one to stop Ryker from getting his vengeance for the rape of his mother and the murder of his aunt. “Leave me with Josie.” With his back still to her, Ryker crammed a hand into his pocket. “We both know that isn't gonna happen.” “Why? She's capable of taking care of me. She managed to protect me until you came along.” He turned and gazed at her for many unbearable seconds. “Because I'm not going to give Pritchard the opportunity to take anyone else away from me,” he said. “That bastard won’t get his slimy clutches on anyone else I care about. Not ever again.” No longer in hiding, his feelings for her were displayed upon his face, open and blatant in his eyes. “Ryker—” Her breath caught in her throat. Had he just confessed that he cared for her? That he loved her too? She wanted to run over to him and throw her arms around his strapping body. He arched an eyebrow. “Don't overanalyze this,” he cautioned. She gleefully smiled, standing her ground. “I wouldn’t think of it.” “Smart girl. Now go close the door for me.” Finding her feet, she headed for the door but stopped when the doorknob was in her hand. “Wait. Do you want me to leave?” His hand came over hers. Ana wasn’t sure if the jumpstart in her heart had come from the fact that he had yet again sneaked up on her, or if it was from the touch of his hand on hers. “No.” His hot breath whispered down the side of her neck as he pushed her hand and finished closing the door. “I don’t want you to leave.” His invigorating voice sent shivers of excitement through her body. He easily scooped her up into his arms. She put her hands around his neck and looked up at him. The admiration, desire, and need in his eyes made that jumpstart in her heart leap to full throttle. 194

Satisfying the Curse He laid her on the bed, removed his clothes, then unhurriedly took off hers. He crawled over her, and that loving look in his eyes, still intense and vivid, consumed her. “I want you to stay with me tonight, Juliana.” He leaned in and lightly kissed her. “Tonight, my sweet little princess, I'm going to make love to you.” He wrapped her in his arms and eased himself gradually inside her. She arched, accepting all of what he could give her. There were no words of love, but she felt loved nonetheless as he delved deeper into her with each rhythmic push. **** The slow, sensuous, heartfelt lovemaking Ryker continued to show to Ana had, without words, perfectly defined the love she felt for him. He had come to her bed for the past three nights. Never sure if it would be the wild animal or the loving man, she was absolutely happy to welcome either into her bed. Even without experience, she knew Ryker was an excellent lover. Better than that, he was her lover. Ana wandered into the library, aware that Ryker would be there waiting for Josie to give him a report about the day's trial. He hadn’t complained about not being able to go to the trial and hadn’t brought it up even once, but Ana was sure he wanted to be there. It was her foolishness, her fault that he would not attend. Ryker lowered the newspaper and gave her the same smile he had been giving her for days. “Hey.” His eyes twinkled. “Hi.” She walked over to him and handed him the envelope she had been carrying. Without reaching out for it, he asked, “What's that?” “Take it.” She waved it at him, suspecting that if she told him what it was before he had it in his hands, he wouldn't take it from her at all. After inspecting her for a moment, he gave in and grabbed it. “All right. Now tell me what's in here.” “A contract for five million dollars. The one Pritchard gave to me. As per the agreement, once the trial is completed, the money is accessible, regardless of the outcome.” “Yeah? So why the hell are you giving it to me?” There was no mistaking Ryker's anger. 195

“Well, after going through the contract again, I noticed that he never planned on giving me the money. My name is nowhere in the contract. In fact, the only person entitled to the funds is ‘the biological offspring’ of Warren Pritchard. He knew I wasn’t his child, so he put a loophole in there so I could never legally get my hands on it.” Ryker stared at her, his expression bleak but perplexed. “But I don't think Pritchard factored you into his plan. The money is yours, Ryker—all completely legal.” He thrust the contract back at her. “Well, I don’t fucking want it. I’m not taking anything from that asshole.” He glanced down at the envelope, tilted his head, and held up his hand. “Wait—” He shot up to his full height, his lips curled. “Are you still trying to get your fucking money through me? Is that what this is, Juliana? Now who’s using who?” Wow! She couldn’t believe him, Ana thought. Did he really think that was her intention? “No,” she said, trying to reassure him. But he was beyond furious, his chest heaving, his breaths quick. She was hurt by the accusation. “So that's what you think of me? I tell you how I feel about you, and you think….” She paused to fight back tears. “I don’t want that bastard to have it. Do whatever you want with it. Give it to charity, invest it, or retire with it. Just don’t let him get his hands on it. He doesn’t deserve it.” She started for the door. “Juliana—” As always when he said her name, it stopped her dead in her tracks. At least this time, she had enough strength not to turn around and look at him. “You told me you were only doing this for the money,” he said. “What did you want it for?” “That's not important. It's not mine and apparently never was.” She left the room. Upset over Ryker's accusations, Ana was passing through the living room as Cassandra and Josie came through the front door. They said their hellos, and Ana directed Josie to Ryker, who was undoubtedly still waiting in the library, before she skidded off to the kitchen to make some coffee. 196

Satisfying the Curse **** Ryker gazed at the contract still lying on the floor. Josie Deetz walked into the library. Her eyes followed his. She bent over and picked up the questionable peace offering Juliana had attempted to give him. “Hey,” Deetz said as she handed him the document. He plucked it from her fingers and tossed it on the table. He'd deal with that later. “What happened in court?” “The prosecution rested today, but not without a bang,” Deetz said, shoving her fingers into her back pockets. Ryker waited for an explanation, but the agent was hesitant. “What is it? What's up?” “They called a forensic specialist to the stand. He came up with a new theory for Janie Crawford's murder, one that would make Pritchard's alibi meaningless.” Ryker's eyebrow lifted, but he remained silent. “After they got the new evidence, the files Janie Crawford's secretary had found, they requested that forensic take another look at the physical evidence. Yah know, with fresh eyes. And those fresh eyes found sedatives and paralytics in Janie's blood work, something they hadn’t looked for before.” Deetz paused. “Go on,” he impatiently insisted. “The theory?” She swallowed hard. He watched the lump slide past her throat. Shifting on her feet, she warily looked at him, and said, “Their theory is that Ms. Crawford was drugged the day before her murder. Whoever killed her went to her office the night before and while she was sedated, he set up the murder. The next day, while she was still only half-conscious, he drugged her with a paralytic—” “And?” he snapped. Now wasn’t the time to beat around the bush. “What does it matter when he overcame her? He still stabbed her to death.” “Yes, but why did he need that extra time? As you know, her hands were tied. The piece of the puzzle nobody made sense of until now is the water they found on the floor in the doorway near her body. Not just a little water. Lots of it.” “Water?”

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“Ice, Ryker. Melted ice, can you imagine? Once they figured that out, it all made sense. Early the next morning, the killer positioned her—drugged—on her knees, her body over a knife. He must have pushed it into her chest, deep enough to hold it there, but not enough to kill her. The other end of the rope that bound her wrists was tied to a heavy block of ice. The killer would have used the door knob as a pulley. As the ice melted, the rope slipped. Her body fell onto the knife, killing her, but not for an hour or more after the killer left the premises. The medical exam indicated the time of death, and at that time Pritchard had an alibi.” “That’s too far-fetched,” Ryker burst out. “It’ll never convince a jury.” “Oh, yes it will. See, her knees were bruised. The medical examiner documented that, but they thought she’d bruised herself struggling with the assailant. And, not only was the floor by the door wet, so was the other end of rope.” His body went numb. He fell back into the chair. “If it's true— if she was paralyzed and conscious, she suffered. The knife—it must've gone in slow….” His voice drifted off as he imagined the gruesome scene. **** “Are you all right?” Cassandra asked when she came in the kitchen a few minutes later. Ana glanced over at her mother. “Yeah,” she said, pouring water into the pot. “How'd the trial go today?” “Okay.” Cassandra sank down in a chair. “You sure everything is all right? Nothing bothering you?” This daughter-mother thing has its pros and cons, Ana reasoned. Cassandra had a tendency to sense Ana's distress, and she had no qualms about calling her out on them. Ana wasn't accustomed to someone being aware of or concerned about her feelings, and it made her feel a bit exposed. Nevertheless, she smiled and leaned against the counter. “I'm good,” she said with a weak smile, not in the mood to hash out her Ryker problems at the moment. Cassandra scowled, but she didn’t press for an answer. Instead, she changed the subject. “The defense starts tomorrow. Are you ready?” 198

Satisfying the Curse Ana was about to assure her mother that she was indeed prepared, but she held her tongue when she saw Ryker coming into the room. His eyes locked on hers as he walked directly to her. Ana's heart fluttered, wary that he was about to ask what she was going to say, to question whether or not she was truly Pritchard's alibi. She froze, waiting for the inevitable, but he didn’t ask her anything. Instead, he reached out and palmed her face with his large, warm hands. His subduing black eyes relaxed her. “She's ready,” he said and leaned down to place a light kiss on her forehead. “All you need to do is tell the truth, Princess.” He kissed her again, this time softly on her lips, and then he smiled at her with the tender and sensational smile he'd been offering to her for the past few days. He arched a dark eyebrow. “Right?” “Right,” she said, confused. Why had his attitude changed. Just moments earlier, he’d accused her of wanting his money. But now he was saying that she’d do the right thing at the trial. Ana nibbled her lower lip, knowing Ryker wasn’t going to be pleased with her testimony. As she’d always said, she planned on telling the truth.

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Chapter Eighteen “I'll meet you in there,” Ryker said, reaching for his ringing phone while motioning Josie to follow Juliana into the courtroom. “Yeah, Bucky?” “Hey, T. I think I got something. Looks like your girl put in a bid for a three-flat multi-family home. Says here it's got nine bedrooms, three baths—” “Where?” Ryker interrupted. “Uh, South Drexel Avenue in Chicago.” Bucky whistled into the phone. “What?” “Going price is $500,000.” “What the hell does she want with an apartment complex?” “Investment? Lookin‘ to be a landlady?” Bucky offered. Ryker couldn’t see Ana wanting to deal with tenants. She worked in the health field. “Okay. Well, see what else you can dig up for me.” “And tell me again, how does this pertain to the case?” Bucky chided. “I’ve got my reasons.” “Yeah, you usually do.” “Thanks, Buck.” Ryker ended the call, unwilling to explain himself. Perhaps it was wrong to use his NESA resources to spy on what Juliana was up to, even if it didn’t pertain to the case, but it was driving him crazy. He needed to know what she wanted with that damn money. Ryker started for the door to the courtroom, but then another resource came into view. Dr. Owens. He met up with the man at the door. “Owens? What are you doing here?” “Agent Ryker.” Owens gave him one of those strange smiles, the kind that made Ryker uncomfortable. The guy was difficult to figure out. Was he sincerely Juliana’s friend, no more than that, or some kind of slick shyster? 200

Satisfying the Curse “I heard Ana was going to testify today, so I thought I'd come and support her.” He stopped, perhaps to take a breath, but Ryker noticed the clever shift in his eyes just the same. Owens’s expression became a grimace. “Besides, I feel really bad about what happened.” He waved his hand in the air. “She's got to be heartbroken about losing the Drexel place. That respite home was always Ana's dream.” He took another break to eye Ryker, and Ryker, sensing he was waiting for a response, said nothing. Owens continued, “Ana worked with me at Comer Children's Hospital for about a year, world famous for cancer research. It’s one of the leading hospitals for new clinical trials, and people from all over the States take their children there for treatment, when they can afford it. Sad thing is, the trials last for weeks, and most families have a difficult time paying for the travel expenses, copays, and lodging. Ana came up with a really great idea, though. She wanted to open a respite home, someplace where families could stay at no charge while the children undergo treatment. She decided she would oversee the care, but she needed a doctor to work with her, someone to stop in a couple times a week and be on call. That was where I was gonna come in. But now—” He shook his head in defeat. “Well, I know she's got to be really upset about it.” Ryker's body became numb. It felt like his foot was jammed in his heart, crammed in there so damn tight he couldn’t breathe. All that time, he'd thought she was a money-hungry bitch, but instead, Juliana was some kind of Florence fucking Nightingale, an angel with a heart full of unselfish generosity. What an ass you are, T. Then again, he reminded himself, he was the offspring of Warren Pritchard. There would always be a part of him he couldn’t trust, a part of him Juliana didn’t deserve. “Agent Ryker?” Owens was staring at him. “You really care about her, don’t you?” Ryker wasn’t sure why he asked the question, but for some reason, for all the man’s good looks and civility, he wasn’t intimidated by Owen. Not when it came to Juliana. “Yes.” Owens’s smile softened. “But only as a friend.” Owens leaned in toward him, closer than Ryker would have liked. “Ana 201

doesn’t know this, but allow me to put your mind at ease, Agent Ryker.” His eyes roamed far too slowly over Ryker’s physique. “I bat for the same team, if you get my meaning.” Ryker's eyebrows lifted for only a second before he caught on. “Oh. Okay. I get it.” Relief washed through him, and he suddenly understood why the man made him uncomfortable. His lingering eyes and gentle smiles were nothing but mild flirtations, and Owens had been playing with Ryker in a way the very heterosexual agent was not comfortable with. Nevertheless, Ryker needed to set him straight—to let him know that straight was exactly what he was. “Yeah, well, no offense, but I don’t play for the same—” Owens’s hand came up. “Please don’t insult me, Agent Ryker. I know where you stand, but it’s been fun as hell messing with you anyway.” He turned and reached for the doorknob. “Now, let's go give our girl some support.” He sighed. “I have a feeling she's going to need us.” Ryker couldn’t relate to Owens’s sexual preference, but he could respect it. And he had to admit he was glad of it, where Juliana was concerned. As he watched Owens slide into the bench next to Juliana and she smiled up at her doctor friend, Ryker was also glad the guy was there. Owens made Juliana happy and eased the stress she’d been wearing like a shirt all morning. Preoccupied with what Deetz had told him, like a selfish asshole, Ryker hadn’t offered Juliana any support. Thinking about how his aunt might have died had consumed all his energy. The room hushed as the judge made his appearance. Jack Riley called his first witness. “Juliana Pratt.” Ryker sat in a bench in the back of the courtroom. He’d chosen the spot so Juliana wouldn’t have to deal with his stare burning a hole in her face while she testified. Maybe, he chosen it for a fast get away as well. When Jack Riley asked Juliana, point blank, “Were you with Warren Pritchard on the day in question?” a pin could have been heard dropping on the tile floor. But all Ryker heard and felt was his own heartbeat, pounding loud and fast and hard. Juliana's eyes searched the room until she found his. She gazed at him. The room was waiting to hear her answer, but it was at that 202

Satisfying the Curse very pivotal moment Ryker realized that he was absolutely onehundred percent in love with Juliana Pratt. The choice of his seat took on a whole new meaning, for now the only thing he needed to escape was the unbreakable bond, the strong hold she had over him, the unconditional love he was feeling. Her green eyes blinked, and he could see her apprehension. His urge to run from her like a coward was overpowered by what she meant to him. Everything. Ryker crossed his arms, leaned back against the bench, and smiled at her. Juliana's eyes blinked again, but this time, the anguish had dissipated and was replaced by a warm, affectionate smile. With self-reliance, she turned her head back to Jack Riley. “Yes, I was with him. Warren Pritchard picked me up that morning at ninethirty a.m., and we went out for brunch. He dropped me back off at my boarding school at twelve-thirty in the afternoon.” Ryker's hand came up to the back of the bench in front of him. His fingers dug into the wood, and his knuckles turned white and numb. That numbing sensation traveled through his entire body. Juliana was with Pritchard when Aunt Janie was killed? My God, that means the ice theory was right. It means Aunt Janie suffered— **** She’d done the right thing, Ana tried to convince herself, and she was going strong with her confidence until she dragged her eyes back to Ryker. He was white as a ghost, as if someone had pulled the plug on his blood supply and it was spilling quickly onto the floor. That was when the shaking started. Ana tried to relax, but Ryker looked upset. She’d tried to convince him that she planned on telling the truth, and she hadn't lied. Warren Pritchard was with her the day Janie Crawford was murdered. She didn’t even realize that the defense was finished with their questioning until she noticed Kathryn Jensen standing in front of her. Blocking Ana’s view of Ryker, a smooth move on the prosecutor’s part, Jensen said, “I would like to again bring your attention to Exhibit G-1, the snow-globe presented earlier in the trial.” Kathryn Jensen walked over to Ana and placed the picture of the familiar

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snow-globe in front of her. “Ms. Pratt, have you ever seen this before?” Ana inspected the photo of the snow-glob that Jensen was holding in her hand. She recalled Cassandra asking her about it, but she really had no idea how it could possibly relate to the case. “Yes,” Ana responded. “Where did you see it?” “Warren Pritchard had it. He showed it to me. I—I thought he was giving it to me.” She paused to remember the day Pritchard handed her the pretty crimson box. She was a teenager then, fourteen years old, and she was so excited. He had never given her a gift before, and it was so beautiful that when she opened it, a tear fell from her eyes. Inside the glass globe was a white rose with pale pink neon lights that faded down from the petals. When she shook it, the sparkling pearl flakes danced all around the beautiful rose. “And you're sure Warren Pritchard had this snow-globe, the same one?” “Yes. I’m sure. This is the one.” “The same type of snow-globe that tested positive for the drug that was found in Janie Crawford's body? The one that was given to her before she was killed?” “Objection!” The defense lawyer bellowed. “What!” Ana yelled over him. The shaking increased as Ana comprehended what she had done. Driven by a rapid bout of anger, Ana shot to her feet, and for the first time since she stepped into the courtroom that day, she looked directly at Pritchard. Understanding what Pritchard had done to Ana rocketed her to her feet, screaming, “You bastard!” Gasps, oohs, and ahhs roared through the room. “Order!” The judge slammed his mallet. “Order in the court!” He turned his attention to Ana. “Ms. Pratt?” Ana's body was trembling so fiercely she thought she was going to pass out. Control. Get control of yourself. She rubbed her hands over her face, then rubbed her arms to bring the deadening sensation back to life. She glanced around the room. Cassandra was watching her with concern, Josie with confusion. As for Ryker, she couldn’t read him, but the reassuring smile he had given to her 204

Satisfying the Curse earlier was gone from his face. She looked at Pritchard, and what she saw in his eyes was stark fear. Oddly enough, it was his expression that spurred her on and gave her strength. He had to go down for what he had done to Janie Crawford. She knew that telling the truth would mean losing Ryker forever, but all of them—Janie Crawford, Susan Ryker, and Ryker himself—deserved to have justice served, no matter the cost. Ana lowered herself back into the chair. She straightened out her shirt and, desperately trying to evade the vigilant eyes, she pushed the strands of hair that had fallen from her bun behind her ears. “Thank you,” Kathryn Jensen said as she turned to go back to her seat. Wait! Is she being dismissed? Oh, hell no! Ana wasn’t through with her testimony, not yet. “I wasn’t finished,” Ana announced. Jensen stopped dead in her tracks. She turned. Bemused but interested, she arched her pencil-thin eyebrows. “I'm sorry, Ms. Pratt. Please continue.” “I thought Warren Pritchard was giving me the globe as a present, but he took it away from me and before he placed it back in the gift box he sprayed it with something. When he told me to cover my mouth, I thought it was perfume.” Ana’s eyes flicked around the room until they landed on Ryker. Her heart was breaking into pieces. He's never going to forgive me for this. Jensen must have caught on to Ana's apprehension, for she asked, “When did Warren Pritchard show you the snow-globe?” Not taking her eyes off Ryker, Ana replied, “It was the day before Janie Crawford was murdered.” “Ms. Pratt, that was a long time ago. You were what? Fourteen or fifteen at the time? How can you be certain about the date?” Ana tore her eyes from Ryker to look at Jensen. “Warren Pritchard only came to visit me at the boarding school on the first Sunday of every month. That month, he came on a Saturday, which wasn’t like him at all. I remember the detective questioning me about being his alibi the following month, so I am absolutely certain about the dates, Ms. Jensen.” “Did Warren Pritchard say anything about the globe? Do you know what he did with it?” 205

“Yes.” The bile forming in Ana's empty stomach made her queasy and unsteady, even though she was sitting. She swallowed back the nasty-tasting burn that had risen to her throat. “Before Pritchard showed the globe to me, we’d been out for a long ride in his limousine. We had stopped in front of a large brick building.” Ana lowered her head and tears escaped her eyes, running down her face in streams when she raised her head again. She gazed at Ryker through the clouding mist. He stood up, but he didn’t move. He just stared back at her, like everyone else in the room, anxiously waiting. “Warren Pritchard gave me a card and the box with the snowglobe in it. He sent me into that brick building.” Her voiced cracked as she tried to get the words out. “He told me to go to the second door on the left and give the gift and card to the woman sitting at the desk.” “And this—” Jensen riffled through some papers on her desk before coming over and placing a photograph in front of Ana. She pointed to a person in the photo. “This woman, Janie Crawford, is she the woman Warren Pritchard told you to give the gift to?” Ana gazed down at the woman in the photo. Her dark eyes, just like Ryker's, had caught the flash from the camera, and they twinkled in the picture just as they had the day Ana gave her the gift. Her smile was just as gentle as the day when Ana had walked into her office, and without a word, offered Janie Crawford the gift. “Yes,” she choked out. She had delivered the drug that led to the death of Janie Crawford. Ana lifted her head, but Ryker was gone, nowhere to be seen.

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Chapter Nineteen It had been months since Ana last set foot in her Chicago apartment. Everything was exactly as she'd left it the day Josie showed up at her door and told her about Warren Pritchard's arrest. Ana wasn’t sure what she was going to do with her life now, especially since she was flat broke. Cassandra had offered to let her move in, but Ana needed to get back to her home and settle a few things before she made any long-term decisions. The day Ana confessed she was the one who delivered the druginfested snow-globe to Janie Crawford was the last day she had seen Ryker. He’d disappeared, and even Josie couldn’t find him, which was saying a lot since finding people was one of Agent Deetz’s specialties. Warren Pritchard was sentenced to twenty-five years to life, spared the death penalty by striking a plea bargain at the last minute by admitting to killing Janie Crawford. He’d done it just as the forensic specialist suggested. Justice for Susan Ryker might not have been served, but at least her tragedy helped to put the case to rest. Ana finished her cup of coffee and grabbed her coat. Wendy Gates, the real estate agent for the Drexel place, had left her a message about their appointment—the one Ana had called to cancel three weeks earlier. Unable to reach Wendy, she decided to go meet the realtor and explain to her in person that she wouldn't be able to purchase the property after all. When she pulled up to the brick building, Ana felt the tears stinging her eyes. Her dreams were gone, and the man she loved had fallen off the face of the earth. She tried to pull it together and wiped her tears away as she stepped out of the car. Wendy was standing in the doorway, smiling at her, and Ana's tears threatened to return as she met her on the landing. “Hello, Ms. Pratt,” Wendy said, politely opening the door.

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“Hi. Wendy,” Ana returned with a weak smile as she walked into the apartment building. The place needed a lot of work, work Ana had planned on doing with Pritchard’s money. “I have the contract right here,” Wendy said as she walked into the kitchen. “All you need to do is sign it.” She held a pen up in the air. “I'm sorry, Wendy. I tried to call you to explain.” Ana choked back more tears. “I'm not going to be able to purchase the property. I've run into some, uh, financial problems and—” Ana paused, arrested by the realtor's expression. “Ms. Pratt, the only thing I need today is your signature so we may transfer the title over to you.” She looked suspiciously at Ana. “Didn’t Mr. Ryker explain all of this to you?” “Excuse me? Did you say Ryker?” Ana's heart quickened simply from the sound of his name. “Yes. Mr. Ryker has already paid for this property in full, with the stipulation that once the transaction was complete, the title would be transferred over to you.” “Trent Ryker bought this building?” “Yes, Ms. Pratt, and it seems as though he purchased it for you. Your signature on this contract means he relinquishes ownership of the property.” “He bought it for me?” Ana said as tears started to stream down her face. Oh my God! Trent Ryker did love her after all! **** “Josie Deetz.” Ryker stood in his hotel doorway, smiling at the agent. “I see you finally found me.” “Yes.” Deetz pushed by him and walked into the room with a sixpack of beer in her hand. “Being a bodyguard isn't the only assignment I've had with NESA, Agent T. Ryker.” Ryker snorted. “Sure, go ahead. Come on in, kick off your shoes, and make yourself at home,” he said after Deetz had already sat down at the small table in the room. She offered him a tight grin. “Thanks,” she said, scanning the room before she cracked open a beer. “Want one?” She handed him a bottle.

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Satisfying the Curse “Sure.” Ryker took it from her. “So, what brings you this way?” Ryker settled in the chair across from her and took a swing of the ice-cold beer. “Well, NESA sent me over to retrieve Juliana's file. You know, red tape kind of stuff for the bean counters.” He got up, retrieved the file, and handed it to her. “You off the case?” “Yeah.” She took the file. “With Pritchard in jail and his assets frozen, he's got no money to hire anyone to go after Ana. She's safe. They're sending me to find The Shadow. Seems as though he hasn't reported in with NESA for a few months.” Ryker whistled. “The Shadow? Wow! You must be a better agent than you let on, Josie Deetz. He's called The Shadow for a reason, you know, but NESA is sending you in after him. Shit, that’s gotta say something about your abilities. Stroke your ego a little.” “What about you? I hear you haven't reported in to NESA either.” “I'm taking a vacation,” Ryker said. A vacation he might never come back from. “Hmm.” Deetz sipped her beer. “And Ana?” He lifted the beer to his mouth. Just hearing her name struck his throat suddenly dry, and he sucked down the whole bottle. “You were right, Agent Deetz,” he said, dropping the bottle on the table. “I don’t deserve her.” He slumped down in the chair. When Josie Deetz smiled at him, he felt it. He blinked, trying to clear the blur from his eyes. His body suddenly felt very heavy. His head swayed back, and Ryker smiled as his eyes slowly lowered from the drug’s effect. He smiled. This meant he was going to see Juliana Pratt. **** “Hey there, Princess.” Ana turned to find Ryker's hooded eyes gazing passionately at her from across the room. “I told you before, you don’t need to handcuff me to a bed to get what you want,” he taunted, chuckling as he lifted his bound wrists. “Yes,” she said, taking a step in toward him, “but you are a very strong man, and I'm not entirely sure what you might do to me if I let you go.” 209

“This is true.” Ryker gave her body a thorough scan. “But I'm not the kind of guy who enjoys being tied up.” Ana crept to the side of the bed. “Why did you leave, Ryker?” “Call me Trent.” Before she could respond to the odd request, he said, “I like hearing you say it, and I left because I refuse to let Pritchard have any more control over me.” “What do you mean?” “He hurt my mother, took my aunt from me, and then you—” Ryker scowled. “What he made you do—” Ana's gaze shifted away. “Juliana, look at me.” It was an order. Unable to deny the man anything, she abided his command. “I don’t blame you for my aunt's death, Princess. Don't you ever think that. But I wanted to kill Pritchard for what he did. It was either walk away from him or murder him, and I don’t want to be anything like my father. So I left.” “You could never be like him.” Ana reached out and touched his face. “Thank you for buying the Drexel building. I promise I will pay you back, and don’t try to argue with me about that, Ryker. Um, Trent.” He grinned. “Okay, you can pay me back after the five million dollars are clear and I donate it to your respite house.” “The Janie Crawford Respite House,” Ana corrected him. His eyes softened. “I can’t think of a better place for Warren Pritchard's money to go, can you?” “Nope.” Ana's heart filled with love and admiration. “All right. Now that we have that all settled, be a good girl and take your dress off so we can see if my body reacts appropriately to you.” Ana drew her hand from his face and trailed it down over his arm, along the tattoos he had branded himself with to remind him that his father was a rapist. “I'm not really concerned about your body right now.” She crawled up on the bed and straddled him. “What I want to know,” she said, bending down close to his unreadable face, “is if your heart is reacting appropriately.” “Is that right? Well, I’ll tell you this. You may kiss me and touch me anywhere you want, but the one thing you can't do…..” His smile 210

Satisfying the Curse widened. “The one thing you can’t do is walk out that door with my heart.” Ana kissed him. “I love you, Trent Ryker.” “Oh my sweet, sweet princess.” His voice was low and raspy. “Te iubesc,” he said in his foreign tongue, but Ana knew what it meant, and a joyful tear made its way to her eye. He leaned in and touched his mouth to hers. “I love you too,” she said. He kissed her again, then pulled back and arched an eyebrow. A sexy smile played across his gorgeous face. “Now, Princess, let me out of these damn handcuffs so I can show you just how much I love you.” The End

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