Ryker opened up his sports car as he left the city. The car hugged the gentle curves of the small two-lane highway as he headed toward Shadows Landing. He loved his town, Shadows Landing, and Charleston. He’d given his blessing for Nico to operate in the town, but perhaps been too laissez-faire about the mafia trying to get a foothold in Charleston. It wasn’t lost to Ryker that by denying them that, he himself would be acting the part of mob boss. Hence the late-night ethics debate with himself as he drove.
Ryker was in the middle of a mental debate when two headlights appeared in his rearview mirror in the distance. It was strange for him to encounter anyone this late at night, but it was a weekend so . . .
Ryker turned his attention back to the road, but he couldn’t help but notice the lights were growing closer. He looked down at his speed and saw he was going seventy miles per hour on the small country road, which was fifteen miles over the speed limit, and yet this car was quickly gaining.
Ryker’s jaw tightened, his hands gripped the steering wheel as he put his foot down on the gas pedal. There was no reason to think this was bad news, but everything in his gut told him it was. He’d only ignored his gut once and that night had almost cost him his freedom. He wasn’t going to ignore it now.
His car responded instantly and took off. The car behind him did the same. Ryker had his eyes glued to the car following him as he drove. He knew this road so well he didn’t need to look to know when a turn was coming.
“Damn,” he cursed as he saw someone lean out of the passenger window. Ryker ducked as the bullet slammed into the back of his car. Dammit, that was going to cost a fortune to repair.
Ryker sped up when they hit a straightaway, but it wasn’t for the reason they thought. He yanked up the emergency brake, engaging the rear wheels of his sports car. The tires practically floated across the pavement as Ryker violently turned the wheel to reverse his direction in a perfectly executed J-turn. He released the brake and sped toward the other vehicle.
Ryker reached under his seat and pulled out the gun he had strapped there for protection as the car veered to the left and sailed by him, blinking in their deadly game of chicken. He yanked on the emergency brake and spun the wheel hard into another J-turn. Now the two cars faced each other. The other car revved its engine and Ryker was done playing.
He kicked his door open and stood with the gun hanging by his side. “Who do you work for?” Ryker yelled.
Their answer was a bullet that hit the pavement near his feet.
“I gave you a chance,” Ryker told them. Their reply was to floor it, heading straight at him. Ryker’s heart no longer pounded with fear. That had stopped after high school. Nothing could strike the kind of fear into him as that night had.
Ryker raised his arm and fired once. The man in the passenger seat fell dead onto the driver. The car swerved as the driver slammed on the brakes ten feet past Ryker. “Give that message to your boss!” Ryker yelled as the driver once again hit the gas, only this time it was to hightail it back from where they came.
Well, that settled that ethical debate. Ryker never ran from the darkness. He lived in the shadows of the business world. Wait until the mob saw what he could do from those shadows.
Kenzie listened to her phone telling her to turn right onto Main Street in Shadows Landing. She drove slowly through a downtown area with no stoplights and thought it really did resemble Hanover. Except Shadows Landing was a waterfront town compared to her mountain town.
The courthouse looked old, the church was exquisite, and there was an antique store and a cute boutique called Bless Your Scarf. Then Kenzie saw a bar on one side of the road and an art gallery on the other before two historical societies—the Shadows Landing Historical Society on one side and Daughters of Shadows Landing on the other. She came to a stop at the end of Main Street and took a deep breath of barbeque coming from The Pink Pig before turning left onto Palmetto Drive.
She drove by a park and a marina before houses began to appear. She slowed as she neared the address Ryker had given her and blinked as she saw America’s Sweetheart getting her mail and waving. She was barefoot, wearing a tank top and athletic shorts. That couldn’t be Skye Jessamine. She’d married someone the papers had reported was from Charleston, but said they spent most of their time in Los Angeles. What was his name? It didn’t matter. Hollywood’s “it” woman wouldn’t be living in some small town like this.
Kenzie slowed and turned into the drive her GPS told her to and just stared. It was so picturesque. The palmettos, towering oaks dripping with Spanish moss, azalea bushes, and flowers everywhere made it look like something straight out of the movies. There was a large call box, and since the gate was closed, she figured she’d have to be let in.
She pressed the button and gave herself one last look in the mirror. Her hands were shaking. How was she going to pull off someone as sexy as Ryker as a boyfriend when she looked like a tired nurse? Was there enough concealer in the world to cover the bags under her eyes?
“Hello, Kenzie. You look beautiful.”
Kenzie’s eyes shot to the callbox. There was a camera watching her. Great start, Kenz. “Hello, Mr. Faulkner.”
“Ryker, please. Come to the back door.” There was a buzz and the gate silently slid open.
“The back door, of course, because what billionaire would let me in through the front?” she muttered as she drove through the gate.
Her mouth dropped when the house came into view. Not just one, but two houses. There was a smaller guesthouse behind the main house with a beautiful garden separating them.
Ryker stood on the back patio waiting for her. She was glad she wore a sundress because Ryker looked mouthwatering in dove-gray slacks and a French blue button-up dress shirt. Although the top couple of buttons were open and his sleeves were rolled up exposing muscled arms, it was still a far cry from casual.
He strode down the flagstone stairs and opened her door. “The back door because I have a spread set out for us on the patio. I’d never be ashamed of you, angel.”
Kenzie blinked and then laughed. She was beyond embarrassed to do anything else. “You have amazing security if you heard that.”
“Thank you. I’ll let the head of the company know you like her equipment.”
“Let me guess, you own it?” Kenzie asked, deciding the nerves had to be dealt with. Ryker Faulkner might be ruthless and mysterious, but she’d dragged his heavy butt out of a burning building and that made him just a man.
“Part of it. I own parts or all of many companies. However, you’ve described what I do differently from anyone else.”
Ryker led her onto a covered, screened-in patio with overhead fans running and patio furniture that was nicer than her indoor furniture.
“What do you mean?” Kenzie asked as Ryker pulled out a cushioned chair for her at the end of the table.
“I’ve never been called a port worker before.” Ryker took a seat at the head of the table next to her. He seemed highly amused as she gasped.
“You listened to my phone call? Don’t do that. That’s creepy.”
Ryker’s lip twitched in amusement. That had to be his version of a smile. “I was making sure you made it to your car safely. And then, yes, I was eavesdropping. I should say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I’m curious. I thought you wanted me as your date to show off, yet you downplayed who I was. So, Kenzie, what’s going on?”