Page 4 of His Princess (A Man Who Knows What He Wants)

“Okay. Gary, I know this is a pain in the ass, but could you leave the room while I speak with her?”

“Yeah, it’s all good.”

“Thank you.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the line.

I keep my grip tight on my gun, glancing toward the door, ready to snap the barrel up and blow the head off any motherfucker stupid enough to think an intercom call could distract me.

If this is a trap, whoever’s behind it is going to regret it pretty damn quickly.

“Yes, hello?” a woman whispers, her voice thick and alluring and sexy, somehow.

How can a voice be sexy through a crackling intercom?

It makes no sense, and yet my whole body is suddenly alight with the need to know more about her.

“I’m here,” I growl, masking this sudden interest.

I feel my manhood jerk, savage intensity moving through my body even if it shouldn’t, even if this woman is a stranger.

I wonder, if this is it, if this is her, the woman I always thought I’d meet one day, the woman who would change everything.

But no—I have to fight those thoughts.

They were the deranged musings of a young confused man, reeling from the loss of his parents.

I have to remember who I am.

A detective, a cop, a man who keeps his wits honed to the mission and doesn’t let this sort of madness into his mind.

“So?” I snap when she doesn’t say anything. “What’s your name?”

She lowers her voice even more. “Ruby,” she says whispers. “Ruby McCarthy.”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. Whoever this is knows how to play a damn fine trick.

“Ruby McCarthy is the princess of the Irish mob. I don’t think her uncle would be too happy about you using her name like this.”

“My uncle is a fucking murdering psycho creep, so, frankly, I don’t really care what he thinks. So are you going to let me up or not?”

Flames move through me at her sassiness, at her willingness to put herself forward like this.

I should tell her no.

I should tell myself no, tell myself these feelings are absurd and don’t make any sense.

I should reject them: reject this whole thing.

But something deep inside of me is roaring yes, fucking yes, in a way I’ve never felt before.

“Do you have any weapons on you?” I ask.

“No. I have my bag. The security guard is searching that.”

I take my hand off the button, biting down, considering.

If she is really Ruby McCarthy, this is a big deal.

Her father was a good man, despite his business, and kept this city far safer than his brother has since his death… a death most people know was caused by Aaron and the goddamn Cartel.

“Okay.” I sigh, knowing this could be a mistake. “But if this is a trick, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

Chapter Three

Ruby

I walk down the corridor with nerves pricking at me, my body dog-tired after the crazy morning I’ve had.

After making a mad dash for the exit – and seeing thankfully the guards had been called to the safe – I slipped through and out into the forest. But it turns out I’m nowhere near as crafty out in nature as I’d led myself to believe, getting tangled up in the underbrush at one point, and taking twice as long to find the road.

From there I tried hitchhiking, but then I saw a few of Uncle Aaron’s men pull up and I had to run back into the forest. In the end, I managed to catch a bus, using a sob story on the bus driver about my mom being sick.

It made me feel sick, telling that lie, but Aaron has never allowed me to have any money. But lying about my mom – who gave her life so I could have mine – still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

I’ve spent the late morning navigating through the city, hopping the subways, feeling like the most confused country bumpkin in the universe.

But finally – exhausted, dehydrated, and terrified – I’m here.

I don’t know what I was expecting when I showed up at the police officer’s apartment, but it definitely wasn’t a high-rise in the swankiest part of the city, with security at the door and a sleek glass elevator leading to his penthouse apartment.

What sort of a cop can afford a penthouse apartment in this part of the city?

I take a breath when I’m outside his door, my heart drumming, and not just with the madness of this morning.

There was something about his voice over the phone, something captivating, enthralling in a way I’ve never felt before.

I caution myself to remember why I’m here, for safety, to get as far away from Uncle Aaron and the mob as possible.

But my belly swirls when I remember Officer Rawson’s gruffness, the way his deep shivering voice moved down the intercom.

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