His Burning Heart: Real Men of Wildridge Read online

  “Have you ever actually tried kombucha?” Dyrk murmured after a few moments of silence.

  Ragan’s rapidly typing fingers paused before he glanced over at him. “Come again?”

  Dyrk shrugged.

  “Tastes kind of sour to me,” Ragan answered. “I don’t really like that vinegar smell, so— wait, why?”

  “Never mind.” Dyrk gave his head a shake. “Any luck?”

  “I hate to break it to you, but your short conversation with Wyntir was too short to give me much to work with here. You’re sure you can’t get back in touch with them?”

  “They probably don’t even know the problem is this complicated. I’m sure they’re just using Wyntir’s cards until they get somewhere with signal and listen to the thousand or so voicemails I left them.”

  “I guess we have to sit on our hands for the time being, then.” Ragan frowned. “I hate to disappoint after getting the energy up in the meeting, but there are just too many financial companies out there he could be using. We can’t exactly sift through the global financial economy for him. And he doesn’t turn up on any of the database searches I’m able to run, so I’m guessing Stark Bradford isn’t his full legal name.”

  “Golden needle in a haystack, got it.” Dyrk nodded and peered up at the ceiling as he thought over their options. “What about Manchester?”

  “Nasty weather this time of year,” Ragan drawled as if he had been waiting all morning to make that joke.

  “Ragan.”

  He sighed. “What about him?”

  “Could we hack into his system? He’ll have all of Stark’s financial info in a database somewhere.”

  “That’s brilliant!” Ragan perked up. “And he’s on vacation, so he’ll never know.”

  Dyrk grinned broadly as he scooted his chair around to Ragan’s side, ready to roll up his sleeves and dig into the hunt. Of course, Charlie had approved their plan to hack Stark’s accounts, not Xavier’s but if it yielded results, no one should be too pissed off. With this new direction, it didn’t take long for the two to make headway. Once Ragan tracked down Xavier, it was just a matter of letting him work his magic and find a backdoor entrance to the guy’s system. Dyrk had a loose idea of how Ragan’s skills worked, but he was mainly just happy he didn’t have to interpret all the mumbo jumbo scrolling down the screen.

  “Uh-oh,” Ragan murmured.

  “Uh-oh?”

  Ragan turned the screen so that Dyrk could see it better. A large red security message was splashed across the screen that read ACCESS DENIED in big letters.

  “Looks like Mr. Manchester doesn’t screw around when it comes to cybersecurity,” Ragan said with more than a hint of admiration in his voice.

  “What’s it mean?”

  “He’s got his system locked down tight, and if I’m not careful, it’ll shut me out of everything. Permanently. Stark must have known what he was doing when he hired this guy.”

  “Don’t tell me we’ve hit another wall,” Dyrk practically snarled, his jaw tight.

  “Firewall, is more like it. But don’t despair, my friend.” A glimmer of an idea sparkled in Ragan’s hazel eyes. “It’s not going to be easy or fast, but I think I can crack it. I’m sure I can. I just need time.”

  “And coffee, no doubt.”

  Ragan snorted. “Lots of it!”

  Dyrk groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt the dull throb of a headache coming on. “Watch, Wyntir will call me back right at the end of all this crap and give us the shortcut when it’s too late.”

  “Don’t jinx it, dude.”

  “I don’t think we could jinx ourselves any more, honestly. Let me get that coffee. Maybe that’ll give us a better chance at cracking this mystery before dark.”

  “You don’t need to stick around for this part,” Ragan said as he stared at his screen, totally engrossed. “It’s gonna be a while. Hours, maybe even days.”

  Dyrk’s shoulders tensed. He wanted this silly task to be over so he could get back on the task force. “It’s okay, I’m up for an all-nighter.”

  Dyrk suddenly became aware he was being watched. He slowly turned his head to find Tessa standing behind him, peering at him with an annoyingly worried expression.

  “Can I help you?” He cursed himself for asking when he didn’t really want to know.

  She smiled softly, concern oozing from her. “You’re never going to solve any mysteries with your chakras blocked.”

  “My…what?”

  “Your chakras.”

  Dyrk pushed out of his chair and brushed past her, heading for the break room to grab those coffees.

  “I can see it in the way you walk,” she added smugly.

  Dyrk stopped walking.

  “And stand,” she added with a faint smile as he glared over his shoulder at her.

  “I’ll stop by a pharmacy on the way home and see what they recommend for that,” he murmured dryly as he made his way to the coffee machine.

  As annoying as Tessa could be with all of her New Age hullabaloo, he had to admit, the quality of the coffee had gone up significantly since she started buying the fair trade, organic stuff.

  “I don’t think they can help with that.” She giggled. “You need to relax before your mind will work properly. You couldn’t run a marathon if your leg was cramping, and you can’t think straight if your chakras are blocked. You’re as brittle as a dry herb. I think some yoga would do you a world of good.”

  Dyrk poured a couple of black coffees, his preferred method for clearing his chakras—whatever they were. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to aspirin and black coffee when my mind is aching.”

  “Actually,” Charlie said cheerfully as he strolled into the break room. Dyrk groaned inside. He’d heard that tone too many times and knew he wasn’t going to like what his boss had to say.

  “Since you’re having a bit of a rough morning, Dyrk, I think Tessa’s idea is brilliant. Why don’t you give it a try, hmmm?”

  “Charlie, I don’t—” Dyrk started, but never finished.

  “I know,” Charlie said, cutting him off. “I didn’t put much stock into yoga either, but Alice has really opened my mind. And my chakras,” he added with a wink. “It would be irresponsible of me not to have you try it. Tessa, excellent thinking.”

  “Thanks!” Tessa’s moss green eyes sparkled with delight. She looked like a kid with a big birthday present sitting in front of her.

  As charming as that was, Dyrk still reached for the cupboard that held the spare bottle of pain relievers.

  * * *

  Tessa jumped straight into preparing for Dyrk’s company as soon as she stepped through the door to her apartment. She sang to herself as she flitted around the place, tidying up and trying to make the already zen space even more inviting and comfortable.

  Some people might accuse her of being spacey, but she was no fool. Dyrk wasn’t exactly thrilled about the prospect of taking instruction from her, especially on something so seemingly inconsequential as meditation and yoga. It never failed to amuse her by how easily others dismissed the things they couldn’t quantify with cold, hard science.

  But Tessa had never been especially interested in science. Her mind didn’t function in numbers and labels. It was more like a free-for-all with gentle chimes and a water fountain trickling in the background. That was just the way she liked it. Her mind was a safe place for her to retreat, much like her apartment. She worked hard to keep it that way.

  Fostering happy, creative vibes was important to her, even if most people she knew didn’t understand. That was fine. She was okay with being seen as the odd one out. After twenty-five years of not quite fitting in, she was used to it.

  Ever since she was a child, Tessa had confused people. She was too calm, too gentle. People couldn’t believe she really was so full of love and peace that it bled into every facet of her personality. They thought she had to be pretending, exaggerating, faking. But the truth was, what you saw was what you got.
There was no point in trying to be anyone but herself, so she’d learned to lean into her choices.

  Of course, there was the added oddity of her heritage. As the adopted human daughter of a koala shifter family, her existence had been questioned too many times. Most people didn’t believe she was “merely” human. Her loving and nonjudgmental ways were so clearly koala, she just had to be a mix. But no. She’d simply learned from the best.

  Lighting several candles in her living room, she quickly moved on to a stick of mellow incense. Instinctively she knew patchouli would be too aggressive for someone as tightly wound as Dyrk, so she chose a soft citrus scent. To get herself in the right headspace, she selected a particularly soothing piece of yoga music and took several deep, cleansing breaths. Hopefully the space would allow Dyrk to unwind and relax. Even a little.

  She’d already changed into her yoga pants and comfiest tank top and plaited her thick auburn hair into a braid to keep it out of her face. All that remained was to lay out a couple of thick yoga mats and a couple of soft foam blocks, just in case Dyrk needed the help with some of the more difficult poses.

  Tessa was determined to make this a positive experience for him. He was already going so far outside his comfort zone it made her heart ache for him. The least she could do was make this session as painless as possible.

  Besides, Dyrk wasn’t the kind of guy to explore a new avenue for very long. He wanted immediate results. Yoga and instant gratification didn’t usually go hand in hand, but danged if she wouldn’t give it a go.

  Exactly sixty minutes after she left the office, a sharp knock sounded on her door. Tessa resisted the urge to skip as she answered it. Swinging open the door, she beamed up at her student, but to her dismay, he didn’t return it. If anything, he looked shellshocked.

  Oh boy, this is going to be interesting.

  Then his gaze drifted down the length of her body, taking in the curve of her waist, the slope of her hips, the swell of her breasts and ass, and her face flamed red. He wasn’t shellshocked from the thought of doing yoga. He was stunned by her.

  It wasn’t lost on Tessa that she looked mighty fine in yoga pants. All that downward dog had paid off, big time. Poor Dyrk didn’t stand a chance. His gaze turned fiery as he drank in her Rubenesque physique, any apprehension he had turning into something much baser, something akin to desire.

  That wasn’t the vibe she’d been shooting for, but she’d take it. Better than angry or surly. Besides, she wasn’t going to complain about the hungry way he looked at her. In fact, it kind of made her feel even better about herself than she already did.

  But he wasn’t here to ogle her body. This was not a hookup. It was a very important yoga session meant to realign his screwed-up, neglected chakras. His emotional well-being was at stake here—as was the mysterious case of the super-shifters wreaking havoc across the city—and Tessa took her assignment very seriously. Reaching out, she grabbed Dyrk by the hand and pulled him into the apartment. She could hardly wait to get started.

  “I’ll be honest. This isn’t really my thing,” Dyrk admitted as she led him to the yoga mats.

  She smiled warmly. “I know, and that’s totally okay. I’ll help you as much as you need. I am here to help guide you however I can.”

  Dyrk frowned down at the mat, like it might turn into quicksand and slurp him up if he let his guard down. To show him how safe he was, Tessa sat down on her own mat and gestured for him to follow. He reluctantly took a seat on the other mat, looking very uncomfortable as he crossed his legs.

  “Let’s start out with some gentle poses to help stretch you out and get you in the right frame of mind for the session,” she began, using a relaxing, breathy voice. “Cross one leg over the other, bring your knee up, and then press your elbow against it while you stretch your back. Great. You’re doing great.”

  “I feel like an idiot,” Dyrk murmured.

  Tessa didn’t laugh, even though she wanted to. If he thought the Lord of the Fishes pose looked weird… But this was a big hump for him to get over, the fear of looking silly. All men had it. Why were they all so dang terrified of getting in tune with their inner selves?

  Slowly and gently, she eased him into many more difficult, pretzelesque positions, and he went along with them. To her surprise, he was more flexible than either of them assumed, which seemed to give him a burst of confidence as then moved into the Goddess Twist. The pose—feet spread wide, bent ninety degrees at the waist, hands on the knees as they twisted their backs very gently—was hard enough without risking injury to his fragile male ego by telling him the name of it.

  Tessa spent most of her time reassuring him that he didn’t look stupid with his nice, tight ass sticking up in the air. Or that it was, in fact, physically beneficial to stretch and twist his body the way she instructed. But he slowly improved, and with every success came newfound elation. He did his best to hide it, but Tessa caught the occasional flicker of pride when he mastered a new pose.

  For Tessa, the most enjoyable part of the evening was helping him perfect his posture. Touching his body, gripping his hips, bending him to her will certainly gave her a thrill. But beyond the physical part, her already strong admiration for Dyrk grew. It wasn’t easy for anyone to set aside their preconceived notions to try something so far out of their comfort zone.

  By the time she had him on his back, rocking from side to side and holding onto his toes like a happy baby, he seemed exhausted. As usual, Tessa felt exhilarated, but he looked like he was in need of a serious pick-me-up—and she knew just the thing to make that happen.

  “Okay, you just lie there in Savasana pose while I get my crystals for a treatment.”

  Dyrk apparently didn’t even have the energy to protest her crystal treatment because all he could manage was a weak, “Huh?”

  God, he was cute. “Just lie there on your back like that for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  “Thank god,” he sighed, letting his eyes close.

  Tessa hurried off to her bedroom to grab her special dragon crystals. She’d bought them from an online specialty shop once she started working at Wildridge, figuring they’d come in handy one day. The day had come.

  “What am I supposed to do now?” he groaned, barely able to move his eyes to follow her as she crouched next to him holding a small leather drawstring bag.

  “Not a thing. Just lie there and I’ll do the rest.”

  Tessa inched her way around him, shaking out a variety of lovely crystals the size of rock salt into her palm. Some were yellow, some green, others blue. Each had a purpose, even though she wasn’t entirely sure how they worked.

  She carefully arranged each crystal around and on Dyrk’s body, trying to create a pattern that would promote calm and healing. And to her delight, it seemed to be working. She felt a strange, almost electrical connection between his body, the stones, and her fingertips. Like she could feel him slowly coming to life. Strangely, she felt closer to him, like some kind of intimacy was growing between them.

  But just as they were finally getting somewhere, Dyrk sat up straight, eyes wide, and then scrambled to his feet. Tessa stared in surprise as he darted toward the door.

  “Sorry. I-I have to get out of here.” Then he hastily slammed the door behind him.

  Tessa sighed. Why were men so weird?

  Chapter Three

  Dyrk’s eyes popped open five minutes before his alarm went off, and unlike most days, his mind felt better than it had in years. He’d woken refreshed and invigorated—no rush of anxiety to jump into the day, no immediate stress as plans rushed through his head, and best of all, no tension in his muscles—except for the problem between his legs he’d hidden from Tessa.

  He didn’t even have to rub the sleep from his eyes as he swung his legs out of bed and stretched his arms up high. He winced as muscles he’d never even known he had creaked and complained after the unusual workout from the night before. That, naturally, triggered thoughts of Tessa, which he shoved fro
m his mind.

  Keeping up the routine today was going to be a challenge.

  Dyrk smoothed out his charcoal silk bedsheets so perfectly he could have bounced a penny off the surface. He spent a full five minutes making sure the bedspread was even on all sides before fluffing his pillows and standing at the foot of the bed to survey his room.

  It was large, by anyone’s standards, and as minimalist in decor as the rest of his apartment. Not a sock was out of place, no belts left dangling over a chair back, the plush black rug was blissfully free of kitten hair, and the windows were so spotless, the tidy array of succulents sitting on the sill might as well have been outside.

  Padding down the hallway in his bare feet, he emerged into a large, open-concept living room with a black, leather couch facing a large wall-mounted television with a spotless hardwood floor between them. As he walked to the kitchen, he called out for his automated house control unit to start his morning playlist on his state-of-the-art sound system.

  Smooth jazz, with an undertone of classic funk, filled the apartment. It was just the thing to get him in the morning mood and clear his mind from all that hippie crap last night.

  He went about his routine like clockwork. First he started the organic espresso he ground fresh each morning—never more or less than he needed—and he didn’t even have to set a timer as it boiled. He knew exactly how long it would take, and he used that time to whip up a piece of toast with butter and blackberry jam. The espresso filled the almost sterile kitchen with the warm, rich scent of his morning elixir.

  As the kitchen gadgets worked their respective magic, Dyrk dropped to the floor for a handful of push-ups. Sure enough, that ache he’d felt earlier screamed into full-fledged pain. As often as he hit the gym, and as impressive as his physique was, he was surprised that Tessa’s silly yoga routine had affected him so much.

  Using some of the techniques she’d shown him, he stretched out the sore muscles and glanced appreciatively around the room. Visitors often wondered if he actually had food stored in there because the sleek, metallic cabinets that sat flush in the walls seemed almost invisible. He loved having a tidy living space. Some homes he’d visited recently—one in particular—had clutter littered over every visible square inch of space. It was like white noise for the eyes and it drove him up a wall. Of course, he had no doubt Tessa would find his home impersonal, but it had worked well enough for him over the years.