Page 83 of Rival to the Billionaire

A blank expression settles over his face. For once, he seems speechless, so I begin to walk away, but he stops me again.

"Everything all right?" he asks, looking as if he's about to check my forehead for fever.

"I…" My gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet his eye. "No. My family…it's…something's wrong. She's in trouble. I have to go. I'm sorry, Ryder. But I have to go."

I'm met with silence again. Then, a warm hand clasps mine. I feel him slip his hand into mine and pull me around to face him. "Then I'm going with you," he says.

I yank my hand out of his. "No! You can't."

His eyes narrow. "You said it's your family."

"It is," I say quickly. "But…you're presenting in less than an hour. And this is my concern."

"Then it's my concern, too. Tell me where you have to go." He checks his watch. "I can have a jet ready and rushing us the hell out here in less than half an hour."

"And how will you manage that?"

He blinks. "With the billions of dollars my family's made?" He reaches one hand to my chin, tilting it upwards. "Look, Jen, I know we both came out of the same poor neighborhood, the same mixed-up childhood. But in case you haven't noticed, my brothers and I have come a hell of a long way since then. Let me help. Let me make things a little more bearable for you…for once…”

I hesitate. I know he's right.

I often forget that Ryder has more money than he'll ever know what to do with. Mostly because I haven't wanted—or asked—for anyone, including the Andersons', help ever. It wasn't my style.

My family's been getting by on my salary alone for the longest time. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

And, more than I want to admit, I want Ryder there with me.

I look him in the eye for a moment, just barely registering his handsome features, his button-down and slacks, his sea-blue eyes that seem to stare into me, straight into my soul.

He gives me a slow smile and a reassuring nod. "It's you and me, darling. I've got you. Always."

Nodding, my eyes catching a glimpse of the glossy poster on the wall featuring "Ryder Anderson, Chief Technology Officer at Hare & Holeton. We're changing the way the world reads."

I think of the way I'm ruining Ryder's life. And he's only helping mine.

And then I squeeze his hand, letting him lead me out of the conference room and down the brightly lit hallway, all the while wondering if karma owes me a break.

Or will it only be a matter of time before things turn on me…again.

ChapterTwenty-Three

RYDER

I booked the private jet for Jenny and me within the hour. We're both packed and ready to leave within two.

Seems having a shit-ton of money is good for something, after all. It can take away the stress of travel. Problem is, it can't take away my nerves. Or Jenny's.

By the time we're in the air, the tension in the cabin is palpable.

Jenny can barely look at me. For a while, I take solace in the fact that instead of knitting--the way she did when flying before--she holds my hand, softly stroking it.

I wonder if she's putting on a show for me.

Unable to ignore it, I make eye contact when I can. And even though we're sitting in the best hand-stitched leather that money can buy, I see that the pain that sliced her in two is still there.

I want to touch her—really touch her—so badly.

But she looks too fragile for me to even reach out.

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