His Contract Bride for Christmas

Five

Dani:

The dishes clattered as I set them on the drying rack, the sound louder than it should've been in the quiet kitchen. My hands were steady, but my mind wasn't. The encounter with Will had left a residue I couldn't shake, like smoke clinging to my skin after a fire.

Ryan had stepped outside, giving me space—or maybe giving himself space. Either way, I was grateful.

When he'd faced off with Will, the intensity in his eyes was... unexpected.

Protective, sure, but there was something deeper like he wasn't just standing up for me but fighting a battle he'd been waging for years.

I dried my hands on a towel and leaned against the counter, staring out the window. Ryan was pacing, his phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gesturing as he spoke. The morning sunlight caught the sharp angles of his face, and I let myself admire him for a moment.

He didn't belong here—not in this crumbling house with its peeling paint and sagging floors, not in my messy, complicated life. He was polished and composed, the kind of man who seemed to have walked out of a magazine spread for expensive watches and tailored suits.

And yet, here he was.

The door creaked open, and Ryan stepped back inside, his expression unreadable. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, watching me.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

I nodded, though the answer felt like a lie. "Yeah. Just... processing."

He didn't press me, didn't offer empty reassurances. He just stood there, his presence solid and grounding, like an anchor in a storm.

"Ryan," I said after a moment, breaking the silence. "Why are you really here?"

His brow furrowed, and I saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes for the first time. "I told you. I needed a break, a place to clear my head."

"And you picked this place?" I gestured around the kitchen, the chipped countertops and faded wallpaper starkly contrasting the kind of life I imagined he came from.

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It's quiet. And you make good coffee."

I rolled my eyes, but his answer didn't satisfy me. There was more to it; I was sure of it, but I didn't have the energy to dig deeper. Not now.

Before I could respond, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen before silencing it.

"Everything okay?" I asked, nodding toward the phone.

"Yeah," he said, slipping it back into his pocket. "Just some business I need to handle later."

Business. Of course. Ryan wasn't just a guy renting a room—he was something else entirely. The way he'd stared Will down, the way he carried himself, even the way he'd walked into my life like he belonged—it all pointed to a man who was used to being in control.

So why was he here in Danville?

"Dani," he said, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. "You don't have to deal with Will alone. Whatever he's after, I'm here."

I laughed, the sound bitter and sharp. "You don't even know the half of it."

"Then tell me," he said, his gaze unwavering.

I hesitated, the weight of the truth pressing down on me. But before I could decide whether to open that door, the sound of tires crunching on gravel reached my ears again.

Not Will. Please, not Will.

Ryan's posture shifted instantly, his body tensing as he turned toward the window. A black SUV was pulling into the driveway, its tinted windows hiding whoever was inside.

"Friend of yours?" he asked, his tone light but his expression anything but.

I shook my head, my stomach twisting. "No."

The SUV came to a stop, and the driver's door opened. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a suit that screamed "money" stepped out. He adjusted his sunglasses, his movements slow and deliberate, before turning his gaze toward the house.

Ryan's jaw tightened, and I thought I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes for a moment.

"Stay here," he said, his voice firm as he moved toward the door.

"Ryan—"

"Stay here, Dani," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I watched as he stepped outside, closing the door behind him. My heart pounded as I moved to the window, peeking out to see Ryan facing off with the man.

The tension between them was palpable, even from a distance. They exchanged words I couldn't hear, their postures rigid, their expressions hard.

And then the man smiled—a cold, calculated smile that sent a chill down my spine.

Whoever he was, he wasn't here by accident.

And neither, I realized, was Ryan.

Ryan:

As I stepped outside, the crunch of gravel under boots was sharp in the quiet morning air, and the only other sound came from the door clicking shut behind me. The man by the SUV was already watching me; his posture was casual, but his presence was anything but. He radiated authority, the kind that came from money, power, and the knowledge that he could get what he wanted without lifting a finger.

I knew the type. Hell, I'd grown up surrounded by them.

"Morning," I called out, keeping my tone neutral as I approached.

The man tilted his head slightly as if appraising me. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but I could feel the weight of his gaze. He adjusted his tie, a slow, deliberate movement that screamed control.

"Ryan," he said, his voice smooth and polished. It wasn't a question—it was a statement, and how he said my name made my skin crawl.

I stopped a few feet away, crossing my arms over my chest. "You've got me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours."

The man smiled, a thin, calculated curve of his lips. "Call me Bennett."

"Bennett," I repeated, letting the name roll off my tongue like a bad taste.

"What brings you out here so early?"

He glanced toward the house, his gaze lingering on the windows momentarily before returning to me. "I was hoping to speak with Dani. Is she home?"

"She's busy," I said, my tone flat. "If you've got something to say, you can say it to me."

Bennett chuckled softly, the sound as cold and smooth as the man himself. "I see. The protective type. How... quaint."

I didn't rise to the bait, keeping my expression neutral. "You didn't answer my question. What do you want with Dani?"

He took a step closer, his polished shoes crunching against the gravel. "I represent certain... interests that are concerned with her property. We've made her a very generous offer, but she seems reluctant to accept."

So this was about the house. I'd figured as much, but hearing it confirmed only made my jaw tighten.

"She's not selling," I said.

Bennett raised an eyebrow, his smile never faltering. "You seem awfully confident for someone who doesn't own the place."

"I don't need to own it to know she's uninterested," I shot back.

His smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And you? What's your stake in all this? Just a concerned tenant? Or is there more to the story?"

I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. "My stake is making sure people like you don't bulldoze over people like her. Dani's been through enough without you vultures circling."

Bennett's expression darkened, the mask slipping just enough for me to see the steel underneath. "You have no idea what you're getting involved in, Ryan. This isn't a fight you want to pick."

"Try me," I said, my voice low and steady.

For a moment, we stood there, the tension between us crackling like a live wire. Then Bennett stepped back, adjusting his tie again with a calm precision that only made me want to punch him.

"Very well," he said smoothly. "But I'd advise you to tread carefully. This isn't personal, Ryan. It's just business."

"Funny," I said, crossing my arms. "It feels pretty personal from where I'm standing."

Bennett's smile returned, colder than before. "I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

He turned and climbed back into the SUV, the engine roaring to life as he pulled out of the driveway. I stood there, watching until the car disappeared down the road, my fists clenched at my sides.

When I finally went back inside, Dani was waiting for me. Her arms were crossed, and her expression was concerned and frustrated.

"Who was that?" she demanded.

"Someone who doesn't know how to take no for an answer," I said, brushing past her into the kitchen.

"Ryan," she said, following me. "What's going on? Why was he here?"

I turned to face her, my chest still tight with the adrenaline from the confrontation. "He's after the house, Dani. Same as Will."

Her shoulders sagged, the light draining from her face. "I don't understand. Why is this place so important to them? It's just an old house."

I shook my head. "It's not just about the house. It's about control. People like Bennett don't care about the property itself—they care about what it represents. And right now, you're standing in their way."

She looked at me, her eyes searching mine. "Why are you doing this, Ryan? Why are you getting involved?"

I hesitated, the weight of her question pressing down on me. "Because someone has to," I said finally. "And I'm not about to let them push you around."

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded a slight, reluctant movement that felt like the start of a fragile truce.

"Okay," she said softly. "But if you're in this, you should know I have no expectations. A week will be over in no time, and when that week is up, I don't want you to think I expect you to stay and fight my battles for me."

I nodded, the corner of my mouth twitching into a faint smile.

Her lips quirked in response, the first hint of a smile I'd seen all morning.

"Besides, I've got a feeling it's about to get much worse." She muttered around a sip of coffee.

She wasn't wrong. But I'd made my choice, and there was no turning back now.

At least, that was until I got a call at 10:30 at night.