Driven by Fire (Fire 2)

A long, thoughtful shower finished the job of cementing her cold fury, and when she came out there was a pile of clothes on the bare mattress, all with price tags still on. She wondered who had brought them, but she doubted it was Ryder. He was kept for strong-arm work, not deliveries.

She was good with numbers, and she mentally added up the cost of the new clothes as she went through them. Of course they were her size—she wouldn’t have expected anything less from Ryder and his “Committee.” Cargo pants, shorts, T-shirts and tank tops, sturdy walking shoes and sandals, and even a couple of sundresses, along with utilitarian underwear, plain white and boring. Her choice was to accept the new clothes or dress in Ryder’s cast offs, and she’d walk around the house naked before she touched his clothes again.

The bruising on her arm was turning dark, and there were marks from his long fingers at the base of her neck. There was nothing she could do about that, but there were a couple of lightweight long-sleeve shirts among the clothing, and she pulled one on over the tank top and long pants. The less anyone saw of her skin, the better. She intended to make Ryder believe he h

adn’t hurt her, couldn’t hurt her. She’d been so vulnerable when he’d touched her, and she was determined she would never be vulnerable again.

She ran into Remy on the second floor, and she braced herself for pity and even a joke. Instead he acted as if he knew nothing about what Ryder had done to her, greeting her in a casual voice. “Ryder’s in the office, making final arrangements for the plane. I see you found the clothes Emery brought you. She’s got good taste.”

It was a relief to think a woman had chosen the plain white underwear. “I don’t have a passport anymore,” she said suddenly. “It was in my house.”

“Oh, Ryder’s seen to it. He’s on top of everything.”

Including me, when he hurt me, she thought, keeping her expression passive. “Good to know,” she said. “Are you coming with us?” At least Remy would provide a buffer between them, something to keep her fierce hatred at bay.

He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. It’s just the two of you—you’ll have more luck in finding the little witch without bringing in an army.”

“‘Little witch’?” she echoed, surprised.

Remy’s grin was wry. “Well, she either escaped or was kidnapped right out from under me—it’s no wonder I’m a little pissed off at her.”

“It was hardly her fault she was kidnapped,” Jenny said sharply.

Remy shrugged, giving her his most charming smile. “If you say so.” He started past her, then paused, and she knew he was going to address the elephant in the room. She didn’t want him to, but she could think of no way to stop him.

“Did Ryder . . .” he began, all trace of a smile gone from his handsome face.

“I’m fine,” she interrupted him. “I told him what he wanted to know.”

Remy didn’t look convinced. “He can be . . . determined when he needs to know something. I do know that he wouldn’t have enjoyed what he did to you.”

Her smile was brittle. “That’s such a reassurance. Heaven knows Mr. Ryder’s feelings are what’s important.”

“That bad, eh?” Remy murmured. “I’m sorry, cher.”

“No worries,” she said, almost convincing. “I’ve been shot and had a house blow up on me and been clubbed on the head. A little bullying on Ryder’s part is child’s play compared to that.”

It wasn’t, but he didn’t know it. Remy looked relieved. “Well, don’t let him get away with anything. He tends to think he knows best about everything, and he needs someone to set him straight.”

He needed someone to stab him, she thought vengefully, but she wasn’t going to be the one. “Not in my job description,” she said lightly.

“What isn’t?”

It was his voice, and she could feel her stomach knot, her entire body freeze. She willed herself to relax, and by the time she turned to look at him she knew she looked completely unruffled.

If she expected him to look guilty, she was doomed to disappointment. He looked as he always looked, not like someone who’d used well-refined torture to get her to betray the only member of her family she still cared about. She wasn’t about to answer him, but Remy stepped in.

“I told her to keep you in line,” he said. “You’re an arrogant bastard when you’ve got something on your mind, and she doesn’t need any extra grief from you.”

“You mean apart from what I already gave her,” he said, and it was all Jenny could do not to stare at him. He didn’t have the slightest bit of shame or remorse, to bring up his abuse so casually. “I don’t expect we’ll have any problem in Calliveria. We both want the same thing, and she’s smart enough to know that if she doesn’t do exactly as I say she’ll find herself in more trouble than she’d ever be with me.”

Her small smile was icy. “I’ll do what you tell me to do.”

Ryder just looked at her out of his wolf’s eyes, but she turned away, ignoring him. “I’m going to find something for lunch,” she said, trying to come up with a casual excuse to leave his presence. She was shaken, and the last thing she wanted was for him to notice, even if the thought of food made her nauseous. “Just let me know when it’s time to leave.”

“That easy, is it? What if I told you I’d changed my mind and you couldn’t come with me?” he taunted, and she wanted to slap him. How dare he hurt her and then mock her, pouring salt on her literal wounds.

“You said it yourself—we both have reasons to save Soledad, and frankly, I don’t trust you to take proper care of her. She’ll be in shock after being abducted again, and God knows what they’ll do to her. She’ll need me.”