His Alone Read online

  His Alone

  By Alexa Riley

  She thinks I'm perfect. A good boss, a good man. She thinks that I play by the rules.

  She has no idea who I truly am. Why I'm really here.

  Paige Turner is trying to outrun her past, but there it is, tossed back in her face anytime she manages to get two steps ahead.

  She has no idea what a man like me will do to get what he wants.

  Her need for Ryan got in the way of revenge, took her off course. Redirected her focus. Before she knew it, he'd made his way into her life. Into her heart.

  I'm dirtier than she knows. She thinks I'm good to the core, but she doesn't know the things I've done. The things I would do for her.

  True love doesn't let secrets as big as these stay buried. And when the truth about Paige's father is finally exposed, Ryan will do anything to fix everything. Paige has always been his—and his alone.

  Dedication

  To strong women…dare a man to love you exactly as you are.

  Prologue

  Ryan

  * * *

  Six years ago…

  I SIT IN the metal chair feeling uncomfortable. I do better on my feet. I wish I could at least have my back to a wall, but this isn’t my place, so I do as I’m told. I sit calmly and keep my breathing even, glancing around the room casually, making sure I show nothing. I have one goal here today and it’s to get as close as possible to the man I’m about to meet. Going deeper underground than I ever have before—something I’m not sure I want. This might take me a further down than I’m prepared to go.

  We’re in a back room of a restaurant in uptown Manhattan, and it’s clearly used for privacy. There are two men at the far wall, standing next to an exit, and two men behind me guarding the way I came in. They both look like muscle; they’d be easy to handle. Too dumb to see what’s coming. Directly in front of me is a small metal table and chair. I hear a click behind me. The door opens, and someone walks through. I wish for the hundredth time that I had my gun on me. I feel naked without it. I know I can defend myself without it, but I like feeling the weight of it against me. And often, someone seeing the hint of it can deescalate a situation. But they took it from me when I walked through the door, so now I have to deal with it.

  The man who walked in takes a seat at the table and leans forward. He’s in an expensive suit that looks custom-made. The men around him are dressed similarly, myself included. When you’re in this line of work, looks are everything. Even more so for a man like this. Money means everything to him. Money and power.

  He sets a large manila envelope on the table between us and places his hand on top of it. He holds it there as he looks at me, his sapphire-blue eyes boring into mine as if trying to read me. Good luck, asshole.

  “I’ve been told good things about you, Ryan. That you’re one to keep cool and one we can trust. Is that true?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The first rule in business is keeping your mouth shut. The second rule is when you talk, say as little as possible. I’ve mastered both of these, and it’s the reason I’m here today.

  “You’ve worked for me for some time now, and I’d like to give you something of a—” He stops as if to consider what word to use. His smile is wide as he lands on it. “―promotion.”

  I sit and wait, breathing evenly and staying calm. It’s what I do best. I’m rewarded when he takes his hand off the envelope and pushes it toward me, then leans back in his chair, watching my movements. I don’t flinch, just wait for instructions like a loyal dog.

  “I need information, and I need you to get it for me. You’re a face that’s not known around here, not associated with me directly. According to what I’ve been able to dig up, you were born in Ukraine and brought to America as a baby. You were raised in Chicago, but ended up in New York a few years ago and made your way into my employment. Is that close enough?”

  “Yes, sir.” Rule number three, always speak with respect. It’s close but not all of it. Just the parts I want him to know. The most important thing to remember about lying is to keep your lies as close to the truth as possible, only blurring some things. That way, you never forget.

  He looks me over again, eyes assessing and reassessing. I relax and wait like he wants me to. Just like I know I need to in order to get on his good side. As if getting what he wants, he nods down to the envelope, and I finally reach out, taking it. I hold it in my hands but don’t make a move to open it. I know him. He wants people to follow his every word, and if he wants me to open it, he’ll tell me.

  “Once this meeting is over, we won’t meet face-to-face again. You’ll have my direct number and communicate with me weekly, giving me any information you can. All that you need to know is in there.”

  He stands, buttoning his suit jacket, and I stand with him, holding the envelope. He stretches out his hand, and as much as I don’t want to take it, I remember rule number three. When he grips my palm, he pulls me forward a slight inch, but it’s a power play. He wants to be the one in control, and though I’m much larger than him and far more skilled at killing a man, I allow him this move. Men like him need to keep the ego. It’s all they have.

  “I think you’re going to be exactly right for this job, Ryan. You look like a Boy Scout.”

  His evil grin makes my stomach clench as he releases my hand. He walks out of the room, and three of the bodyguards follow him. The fourth stops and hands me my gun, and I tuck it back into my holster as I watch him leave. Once I’m alone, I clutch the envelope and walk out the back exit. I walk two blocks up to a park and look for an empty bench. When I sit down, I open the envelope and flip through the contents.

  The first few pages are exactly what I expected. There are instructions to get as much information as possible on one particular person. There are pictures of locations, property, known assets and people of interest. I know who this is. It’s his estranged son, Miles Osbourne. Everyone knows of the rift. But no one knows why. It was so bad Miles even changed his name back to his mother’s maiden name, Osborne. That had to really piss off a man like Alexander Owens. I’m guessing the rift is because Miles knows all about his dear old dad and wants nothing to do with him, but it doesn’t look like Alexander feels the same. He wants Miles as close as possible, and he’s going to use me to get that.

  The last piece of paper contains one sentence. The words make a chill run down my spine, and I stare at them for a long moment. There’s an accompanying photo stapled to the page.

  If she shows up, you alert me immediately.

  The police suspect Alexander has had a hand in the deaths of three women, and I wonder if this one is another of his mistresses. Flipping the note over, I see the picture and my chest tightens as my breath catches. I reach out, touching the photo with the tip of my index finger. It’s a little blurry and taken from the side, but there’s no mistaking the beauty of the redhead in the photograph. Something about her touches a place inside me, and all my plans change. My blood pumps through my veins and I can feel my adrenaline rising. I will do what I need to do to make this plan work, but there’s no way I’m handing this girl over to him. I look at the picture and I see it. This isn’t a mistress. The same blue eyes I was staring at across the table look at me from the photo. I pull out the photo of Miles. There it is. She’s his daughter, and I’m guessing she has all kinds of little secrets on her father. Ones he doesn’t want anyone to know.

  I’ve been hired by Alexander Owens to get close to his son, and that’s what I’ll do. I’ll be best fucking friends with Miles Osborne before the week is over, but I won’t ever harm the redhead.

  Ever.

  I need her.

  Preface

  RYAN

  * * *

  SHE THINKS I’M perfect. She t
hinks I look like Captain America. That I play by the rules. But she has no idea who I truly am. Or why I’m really here.

  She thinks Miles was obsessed.

  She has no idea what obsession is. What a man like me will do to get what he wants.

  I’m dirtier than she knows. She thinks I’m good to the core, but she doesn’t know the things I’ve done. The things I would do for her.

  Only her.

  Chapter One

  Paige

  * * *

  I DIDN’T KNOW you could actually feel someone’s eyes on you. I don’t mean that creeping feeling when you think someone is staring at you and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. No, this is different. I can feel his eyes on every part of my skin. They make my body warm, in places I didn’t even know existed. A part of me I’d buried long ago. Other girls probably feel this all the time, but not me. It’s like he has intimate knowledge of my body, and somehow it belongs to him. His eyes, roaming my body, fascinate me. I remember every detail about them, and it’s both a blessing and a curse.

  When I look at him, I never know what eyes I’ll receive. Sometimes they’re bright green like a fresh shamrock. Other times, when the light hits just right, little blue specks shine through, making them appear almost cerulean. But my favorite is when they turn a dark green. They’re the color of a morning forest, soft and crisp, and I know he’s playing it cool. I often wonder if I’m the only one who can see the difference. He’s always so calm and cool, but his eyes probably show me more than he wants. Or maybe I’m the one doing a little too much staring. It makes me wonder if there’s more to this man who always seems so perfect. He’s too good and clean. If he knew everything about me, I probably wouldn’t get those eyes on me like I do now. The ones I secretly love.

  At first I thought Ryan Justice didn’t like me, but over the years I’ve noticed it isn’t dislike, no matter how hard I try to annoy him. The annoyance I once read in his eyes has turned out to be hunger. The more I poke at him and push him away, the more that hunger grows. Or maybe that’s my own I’m feeling. I should stay as far away from him as possible, because he could break me. I’ve already had one man almost shatter me, and I don’t think I could survive another, no matter how bad I want it.

  I turn my head and look across the crowded ballroom to find him leaning up against the wall with his eyes on me. Just like I knew they would be. Like they always are. He looks casual in his suit as he tries to appear nonthreatening, which is impossible when you’re built like him. His size is intimidating, and even more so when he’s got well over a foot and a half on you, like he does me. I know he hates the suits, because when we’re at work he always ditches the jacket and rolls up his sleeves, revealing the tattoos that coat his thick arms. It’s the one thing that always seemed off about him. The tattoos never matched the good ol’ boy attitude.

  It’s as if everyone in the room knows not to block his line of sight on me, because even in this crowded room no one has stepped in his way. If I want out of his view, I’ll have to leave and find somewhere else to stand. That’s where the real inner battle begins. To move or not to move. As much as I hate the staring, I want it. I’ve been pushing for it, no matter how much I try to lie to myself that I haven’t. I’ve come to crave it.

  This dress is exhibit A of that fact. I picked it out with him in mind. I asked myself what would Ryan—or Captain America, as Mallory and I call him—think of this dress. Would it piss him off like it does when I wear a sports bra and skintight shorts to our training exercises? At first I didn’t do it on purpose, but when I saw it bothered him, I did it more.

  It’s a head game I’m playing. No matter how much I tell myself Captain isn’t for me, I can’t stop trying to get his attention. I guess it’s more like provoking him, because his attention is always on me. I like it when I get the rise, even though I push him away when he gets too close. God, what is wrong with me? I’ve become one of those girls who play games. That isn’t me, but I find I’m not always me when it comes to him. I’m different. Or maybe it’s not different, exactly. He draws out a part of me that I don’t want coming out.

  I pull my eyes away from him and turn, giving him a side view. The black strapless dress reaches all the way to the floor, fitting snugly against me. It looks conservative…until I move. There’s a slit that runs up one side, all the way from the floor to the top of my hip. It bares my leg, my thigh, my hip, making it impossible to wear underwear. Top that off with the killer heels I have on and for once I feel tall. My legs seem longer with the tall heels and cut of the dress. I feel sexy, which is something I’m not used to. However, over the past few weeks I’ve found myself wanting to be more than just plain Paige.

  I move through the room, cataloging everything, even though we aren’t officially on the clock tonight. We’re here only as light security, but the need to know my surroundings is always there. Tonight, as always, Captain and I are to protect my boss and half brother, Miles Osborne, and his girlfriend, Mallory. Mallory is my best friend, so I’ve always got her back, and tonight is no different. We’re meant to blend in, but if something catches our eye we’re to point it out to the security on call. The charity event is auctioning off millions of dollars in different pieces, so there’s plenty of staff to handle this. Miles just likes to take extra precautions. There are art pieces, jewelry, and God knows what else here that cost more than one person makes in a lifetime. So you can’t blame the heightened awareness that’s buzzing through the room.

  Moving through the crowd, I try to see if I can lose Captain in the shuffle. I can feel him following me, and I want to shake him. Nothing is happening at the event and I’m getting bored as each second ticks by. The space is locked up tight, and no one looks out of place. I don’t foresee anything happening and I might as well have a little fun. I turn, trying to see how close he is, but I’ve lost him in the crowd. He’s normally easy to spot, towering over everyone in the room, but now he’s the one hiding.

  It’s one thing I’ve learned about Captain over the past few weeks—he moves like a fucking cat. I didn’t know it was possible for someone as big as he is to be able to move without making a sound. It’s unnatural and sexy as hell. We both work security at Osborne Corporation, and technically he’s my boss, has been for years, but most of everything we’ve done together has been on calls or emails. Now I’m here working face-to-face with him every day. So all this is a very bad idea, yet I can’t help pushing for it. Just a little more every day. We work so close together, and it would be awkward if something happened, but that still isn’t enough to shake some sense into me, to stop this game I keep playing with us. Though I’m starting to question if I’m really leading the game at all.

  Looking around the room, I still don’t see him, and I wonder with a pang in my heart if he’s left. He wouldn’t leave the event and go home without checking in, but I didn’t think he’d let me slip away from him so easily. Maybe all my pushing is working, and I get angry with myself.

  Suddenly he’s on me. His big hands cup my biceps as he pulls me down a hallway. He presses me up against the wall, and his palms come down on either side of my face, caging me in, his giant body in front of me as he leans in and stares. His dark green eyes take the breath right out of my lungs.

  “What are you doing?” I manage to whisper.

  I look up at him. Even though I’m in these ridiculous heels, he still towers over me. His face is set and completely unreadable, but there isn’t a speck of blue in his eyes right now. Nothing but the dark green, and my stomach tightens as all his intensity is fixed on me. It’s intoxicating to have someone so focused on you. No one has ever cared to watch me like he does.

  Except I know why he’s pissed. I might have poked a little too hard before we came here tonight. I let something, a lie, take hold, and didn’t try to stop it. We were both on Miles’s and Mallory’s details today, but I’d sneaked out and gotten Mallory a pregnancy test. Of course Captain caught me, because he catches
everything. He never misses a beat and I wonder if he has a photographic memory like I do.

  When he’d seen what I’d purchased, his whole body locked up. He assumed it was for me, and I didn’t correct him. I let him believe I was the one who needed the pregnancy test. I did it to piss him off. It was the one and only time I’d gotten a real reaction out of him—something that wasn’t a mannerly gesture. I’m sure his mom taught him to be polite when he was growing up, in a perfect house with his parents and three point two kids and a dog named Spike that stayed inside his white picket fence. I should have said something, but instead I let him believe that I was fucking someone and may or may not have gotten pregnant. Seeing the emotion all over his face should have been worth it, but a knot in the pit of my stomach told me maybe I’d taken it too far.

  He pulls one of his hands from the wall, dropping it to my hip. I should push it away, but instead I stand there frozen, waiting to see what happens. His big palm rests on my hip, and he wraps his fingers around me. He’s touched me before, but not like this. At work when he touches me, it’s with a little too much ease. He started out only brushing past me, but then it progressed to tucking my hair behind my ear. No one touches me, except for Mallory from time to time. But the more time Ryan and I spend together, the more he does it. Like he’s been doing it forever. Like we’re lovers. As if it’s his right to do so.

  Normally I push him away or brush off his touch, and I hate when I do it. This time, though, I can’t seem to find the will. I want his affection. I’m needy for it. I’ve been so starved for it lately. I need this moment. I need this one time, and then I’ll be okay. I’ll snatch it up and replay it over and over in my head when I need another taste of him. It has to be enough.