Royal Line by Carrie Ryan (lightweight ebook reader .txt) 📗

“You’re fucking with me?”

“A little.”

I sighed. “God, save me from sarcastic women.”

She gave a prim shake of her head. “I can do this all day.”

She probably could. I wasn’t going to let her do that though. “Let’s get you in the passenger seat, Captain America. We can argue about where I’m taking you once we’re settled in.”

“Nice movie reference. I like how you slid that right in. As far as where we’re going, you’re taking me to my friend’s house.”

I rolled my eyes. “Uh-huh. Feet in. Careful of the ankle.”

She winced a little, but then she sat back and practically moaned as she sank into the leather. “Oh my God, this leather is divine.”

“I know, right? Seats might be the sole reason I bought this car.”

I closed the door, deposited my tools and her bag in the trunk, and then climbed into the driver’s seat. “Okay, I still say we need to take you to a hospital. At the very least, we should call the police.”

“And I will call them. I swear. I mostly just really want a hot soak.”

“You could have internal injuries.”

She met my gaze stubbornly. “I’ll call a doctor to come to the house.”

My brows lifted then. “A doctor to come to the house?”

“You know, like a concierge service. This is Paris; I know they have them. And I guarantee you, Rian will have the name of one.”

Well, she was rich then. Filthy, stinking rich. My favorite kind of client.

Except she’s not a client. And she smells like sin and temptation.

No, she wasn’t a client. She was a beautiful woman who was clearly hurt and needed a doctor at a hospital. However, it looked like I would have to give in to her wishes. “All right, which way is your friend’s place? I’ll take you there, speak to her, make sure she gets you a doctor, and then I’m out of here.”

“Just when we were getting along so well.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem that my lines are working on you, so I feel like I struck out.”

“God, man. Be persistent.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I wanted to smile again. She was gorgeous with all that midnight-dark hair. And those startling eyes had a way of grabbing a man…where it counted. “Oh, I’m persistent.” I slid my gaze over her, and I wanted to smack myself.

Focus, Kannon, she’s hurt. That fact didn’t stop me from recognizing that she was also gorgeous, but I knew that was mostly the adrenaline talking. Fight. Flight. Or fuck. And at the moment, we were solidly in fuck territory. It didn’t help that her pouty mouth kept taunting me.

I cleared my throat and turned my attention to the road as I started my engine.

Her voice was soft next to me. “Kannon, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, London. I still think it’s an odd name.”

“Well, what kind of name is Kannon anyway? Let me guess, you spell it fancy with a K instead of a C?”

I coughed a laugh. “You sure are right.”

“Of course, I am.”

We were still laughing when the bright headlights of a car joined us on the road.

“Well, the good news is, someone else would have come along eventually.” I angled my head toward the headlights. “You can rest assured that you wouldn’t have ended up alone there all night.”

“This is me, resting assured.”

She glanced back at the car as I eased out onto the road. I cleared my throat. “What are you going to do with your friend?”

Her voice was distant, distracted as she glanced back. “Mostly lay low and catch up. I haven’t seen her for a bit.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re telling me, you came all the way to Paris during Fashion Week and you’re not going to catch a show?”

“Nope. It might surprise you to know that I happen to like quiet and subdued.”

Something about her diamond stud earrings and the Diamonds by the Yard wrapped around her wrist told me that was inaccurate. But hell, her plans didn’t matter to me.

Except there was something in her tone. Something that told me there was more to what she was saying. Something my curiosity wouldn’t let die. “And what do you do?”

There was a bit of hesitation before she said, “I’m a photographer. Sometimes a photojournalist.”

I glanced over to her. Her tone said it wasn’t exactly a lie, but there was something she was leaving out about her job.

None of your business. Just take her to wherever she’s going and be done with her. 

The headlights were coming up on us quickly, and I frowned. I increased my speed a little, but the other car didn’t fall back. They only increased their speed to match.

I glanced at her. “London?”

She turned her head. “Hm? Yes, Kannon?”

“How much trouble are you in?”

Her eyes went wide. “What do you mean?”

“That car, it’s following us.” I slowed my pace, and it lunged forward. “And what are the chances that the car that ran you off the road earlier only did it by accident?”

She shook her head. “There’s no reason anyone would want to run me off the road. It was just a hit and run.”

And then I heard it…the ping off my rear bumper. The car lurched forward. London didn’t scream, but she immediately ducked and cowered. “Oh fuck.”

That fight or flight impulse went immediately to fight. “London, I need you to reach into the glove compartment and get my gun for me.”

“What the fuck? Why do you have a gun?”

“Because I run a security company. My car is bulletproof, but someone is shooting at us.”

Another ping. She ducked again, and I swerved. The car could take several hits, but the tires…the tires weren’t bulletproof. We’d be incapacitated and sitting ducks if they hit one of them.

Another ping.

And then another car appeared out from behind the one that was following us.

Fuck me. “They’ve got a friend.”

That car veered around to the side. A shooter was aiming at my car and fired, but nothing.

“London, stay down right there where you are. Hand