She made a sound in her throat that struck him as feral, leaped up, and banged a fist on the door. “Open this damn door!”

“She’ll open it when she’s ready. You’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She couldn’t say why his matter-of-fact reaction increased her own temper, and that hint of panic. “You—you don’t even use my name. It’s like you don’t know it.”

“I know your name. Stop banging on the door. Hope. See, I know your name. Stop it.”

He reached up, covered her fisted hand with his.

And she felt it again, that surge, that strange dizziness. Cautiously, she braced against the door, turned her head to look at him.

Close again, as they’d been on New Year’s. Close enough to see those gold flecks scattered across the green of his eyes. Close enough to see the heat, and the consideration in them.

She didn’t think about leaning in, but her body did. To stop it, she pressed a hand on his chest. Was his heart a little unsteady? She thought it might be. Maybe she only hoped it, so she wouldn’t be alone.

“She trapped Owen and Avery in E&D,” Hope remembered. “She wanted them to . . .” Kiss. To discover each other. “She’s a romantic.”

Ryder stepped back, and the moment broke like glass. “Right now she’s a nuisance.”

The window he’d opened closed quietly on its own.

“I’d say she’s making a statement.” Calmer now, steadier as he seemed less so, Hope pushed at her hair. “Oh for God’s sake, Ryder, just kiss me. It won’t kill you, and then she’ll let us out of here.”

“Maybe I don’t like having women—dead ones or live ones—maneuver me.”

“Believe me, kissing you isn’t going to be the highlight of my day, but I have guests arriving any minute. Or.” She pulled out her phone. “I’m calling Owen.”

“You’re not calling Owen.”

She got him now. Having one of his brothers come over to let them out? Mortifying. Kissing her, she calculated, was the lesser of two evils. Amused, she smiled at him. “You can close your eyes and think of England.”

“Funny.” He stepped over, braced a hand on either side of her head. “This is because I’ve wasted enough time, and I want a cold beer.”

“Fine.”

He leaned down, hovered a moment, a breath from her lips.

Don’t think, she ordered herself. Don’t react. It’s nothing.

It’s nothing.

It was heat and light, and oh, that surge again from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. He didn’t touch her, but for that mouth against mouth, and she had to curl her hands at her sides to stop herself from reaching out. Grabbing on, dragging him in.