Page 49 of The SEAL's Duchess
The pedal sank. Too soft. Wrong.
She pressed again. The pedal went straight to the floor.
No brakes.
The car slewed sideways, tires abrading on ice. She spun the wheel into the skid, fighting it, heart striking her ribs.
A black pine loomed out of the white.
She fought the wheel.
A sickening snap—like bone.
Metal shrieked. Glass exploded in her face.
The airbag hit like a fist of air and light, punching her back against her seat.
Stars detonated across her vision.
Quiet.
The engine hissed and ticked, the sound dull and distant, as if she were underwater. Snow drifted through the shattered windshield—cold on her face, blood coppery on her tongue.
Yes. I want you, Ryder.
The thought flickered once before the dark took her.
22
Ryder stood frozen,gripping the counter where Ivy had brushed past him seconds before. His lips still stung from that kiss, her taste still on his tongue.
His throat worked against a hard swallow, the rush of blood so loud it muffled his hearing. The way she’d gone rigid at first contact, then melted into him so completely he’d felt her surrender in his bones. The soft sound she’d made when he’d deepened the kiss, half gasp, half moan, before?—
She’d ripped free and bolted.
That wasn’t rejection. That was fear.
She wasn’t running away from him.
She was running from what they both felt.
“Ryder?”Sarah.
After the waterfall, he’d let Ivy retreat into cool politeness, telling himself he was giving her space. Respecting boundaries.
Space? What a load of bullshit. He hadn’t given her anything except an easy out. Too damn afraid to push back.
If Ivy wanted him gone, she could damn well look him in the eye and say so. But she wasn’t going to vanish into the nightwithout a word. Not on his watch. And what if she’d hit the road scared out of her mind—and something’d already happened?
The thought barreled into him, cold and brutal.
“Ryder.” Sarah’s voice sharpened, her fingers gripping his shoulder. She gave him a shake. “What’s going on? Where’d Ivy go?”
He looked around. Caleb and Wyatt blocked the kitchen doorway, wearing the same mix of concern and poorly concealed curiosity.
“She left.” He strode toward the hall, lifting his coat.
“Left? In this weather?” Sarah folded her arms, frown deepening. “It’s gotten worse out there?—”
