Page 63 of Ryland
With an agonized roar, Ryland fisted his hand, ready to pound it against her chest, when she suddenly coughed up a mouthful of water.
Relief like he’d never known before flooded through him and he rolled her onto her side, keeping her airway open, letting the water spill out.
“Jesus Christ,” he rasped, dropping his head, unable to believe how close he’d been to losing her.
Gathering her in his arms, needing to feel her breathing, Ryland pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her shivering body.
“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He stroked a hand over her wet hair and pressed his forehead against hers, whispering, “I’m so sorry.”
Harper pulled back, her aqua eyes looking up at him through water-spiked lashes. “Sorry for saving me?” The strain on her vocal cords caused her to cough again.
Ryland merely shook his head, at a loss. “You’re so damn brave.” He cupped her face and stared at her in relieved amazement. She was safe, she was breathing, she was alive.
Thank Christ.
“Baby…” he breathed, unable to stop touching her. Needing to reassure himself that she was there in his arms and he wasn’t merely dreaming. He almost lost her, and there would’ve been no coming back from that kind of devastation.
She’s okay,he kept repeating in his head.
“I am never letting you go,” he rasped. “You’re mine and I’m yours. I fucking love you, Harper. So damn much. Don’t you ever drown on me again.”
A half laugh, half sob escaped Harper’s throat as she wound her arms around his neck. “I won’t. And I fucking love you right back. So very much.”
Chapter Twenty
Harper was safe, her arms wrapped around Ryland, and she breathed in his clean scent. He helped her up, guided her away from the caves and they spotted the rental boat banging up against a cluster of rocks near the shoreline. After making sure the coast was clear, Ryland climbed over the boulders and hopped into the boat. He maneuvered it over and pulled Harper up inside.
They determined the bad guys had left or were continuing their search elsewhere. And thank God for that because Harper was done. It had been enough excitement for one morning.
On the way back to the hotel, Ryland kept Harper tucked close on his lap, his warm embrace blocking the wind. Still, she shivered. Probably more so from her near-death experience rather than their wet clothes.
It was a relief when they finally reached the resort. Once they were back in the suite, Ryland called Pharaoh and brought him up to date on everything that had happened. Harper shivered when he got to the part about her being swept away and drowning.
Because she hadn’t nearly drowned. Harper had actually breathed water into her lungs and stopped breathing. Although she didn’t remember what happened after she blacked out, the moments right before it had been terrifying. Especially when she thought she’d never be in Ryland’s arms again. Never run her fingers through his hair, look into his striking eyes, feel his lips on hers.
After changing into dry clothes and quickly packing up, they hightailed it over to the private jet. Ryland fawned over her the entire flight back to Mexico, making sure she had whatever she needed. But mostly, she just needed to be near him and to feel his warmth.
After landing in Rosarito, they climbed back into the SUV and Ryland drove them back to their little row of bungalows on the beach. The team had a lot to discuss and Harper was tired, exhausted actually, even after dozing on the flight home. But it was still early evening, and she didn’t want to leave Ryland’s side. Even though he encouraged her to go to bed and get some rest, she said she’d rather go with him to his team’s meeting. If that was okay.
“Of course, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured and kissed her. “Wherever I go, you’re always invited. I want you by my side.”
Hand-in-hand, they walked over to Banshee and Bruja’s place, entering to a round of enthusiastic and relieved greetings. The team hugged Harper—she was pretty sure she heard a very Ryland-sounding growl when Saint casually wrapped his arms around her—and fist-bumped Ryland. She didn’t see Cross anywhere and somehow wasn’t surprised. After the warm welcome, everyone gathered around the coffee table in the small living room that overlooked the ocean and got down to business.
“Welcome back,” Pharaoh said, his tone deep and commanding like always, reminding her they were back to business. “First things first. Mayhem’s funeral is in two days in San Diego, so we’ll be driving back tonight.” He glanced down at his watch. “As soon as this meeting is over.”
Harper squeezed Ryland’s hand, knowing the next couple of days were going to be difficult for him, but she’d be by his side every step of the way.
“Next order of business is admitting we’re up against a serious enemy. Tillman’s meeting with Mr. Smith provided clear confirmation that their main objective is to hunt us down, one by one, until we’re eliminated.”
“Tillman is a fool,” Ryland said, and Harper nodded. “But he must have a purpose or they wouldn’t keep him around.”
Harper looked around the room, from one member of Ryland’s team to another, and Selma Santiago’s warning about one of them being a traitor echoed through her head. Her gut was saying Santiago was a liar, but the possibility couldn’t be ruled out yet.
“I still don’t understand why.” Bruja played with her nunchucks, swinging them around with lethal skill. “What did we do to wind up on their kill list? Because I have to say, I didn’t believe a word out of Santiago’s mouth.”
No one had an answer and Pharaoh shrugged a wide shoulder.
“All I know is we need more help. Someone trustworthy to take Mayhem’s spot on the team.”