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

to want me dead.” She still couldn’t grasp it. I could see her panic rising.

“I don’t believe that. But look, you’re safe now. And always remember, if you’re ever in the car again and someone attacks you, there’s a gun in the glove box.”

Her brows furrowed. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Probably because it hasn’t been ingrained in your head. But this only leads me to the conclusion that you are absolutely being followed. We’re going to get another car, and you’re going to dump everything, all of your belongings.”

“What?”

“Dump everything.”

“But my camera.”

The fear in her voice was palpable. “I had Sparrow check it this morning. It’s clean. The camera and lenses are clear. Let’s kill everything else to be safe.”

“But I don’t have anything else on me.”

I laughed at that. “You’re still wearing earrings, a necklace, a watch, and probably a few things I might have missed. If that’s what you left home in, a tracking device could have been sewn into the collar of your jacket or planted in anything you have on. And you’ve got a lot on. And I’m sorry, but Lité is out.”

I thought she was going to argue. I thought she’d fight me. But all she did was nod quickly. Her eyes though… The normally vibrant baby blues were clouded with unshed tears.

Christ, she’d been run off a road, people had shot at her, and some idiot had just tried to drag her out of a car. She was holding up remarkably well, considering.

I found the one shopping center I’d seen on the map. I picked a spot in the far corner, just out of range of the cameras. I hated the idea of leaving my car here, but we didn’t really have any other options. I scanned the lot’s numerous other inhabitants and spotted a vehicle that was just the ticket. A red Peugeot, an older model before all the updates to computer systems, and I knew it would be easy to steal.

I grabbed our gear as soon as I parked. “Start stripping.”

“I’m sorry, what? No. I will not be stripping in front of you, especially when I don’t have anything to change into. You might have saved my body, but you don’t get to see it.”

My gaze slipped over her slender frame and paused just long enough at her breasts. It made me want to kick myself. “I’ll give you a shirt. Make it fast. We’re leaving all of that here.”

I transferred my gear between cars quickly. Lucky for me, the Peugeot was easy to hotwire. Perfection. Hopefully, her friend had a car available. One that no one had seen us in before.

London had done as she was told. She’d stripped. Down to her bra and panties.

“I said all of it.”

She blinked. “The hell I will.”

I sighed, grabbed one of my shirts out of my duffel, and handed it to her. It would certainly be long enough to cover her to nearly her knees. “I was serious too. Bra as well. It’s easy to hide something in the underwire.”

“Will you at least leave me the dignity of my panties?”

I did my best, trying not to think of her panties. It didn’t work. Now all I could imagine were her curves in microscopic lace, and my dick ached. “Fine. Make it fast. We’ve got to go.”

She was fast. When she buttoned up the last couple of buttons of my shirt, I couldn’t help but stare at her. She was like a walking, talking model come to life with her silky hair cascading over her shoulders, her bright blue eyes, and those thick, dark lashes looking up at me. All I could think about was how she tasted and how I was not going to think about that anymore.

Sure. 

Once we made the car switch, I made a mental note to tell Olly to come and retrieve my BMW. If I was lucky, he’d be able to find someone to fix the scrape I got in our crash a couple nights ago. Not to mention the bullet holes.

During the rest of the drive to her friend’s, London was solemn, quiet. She didn’t say a word.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course. Other than being followed and men with guns running me off the road and trying to kill me at rest stops. However, it’s not as if I have a choice. So let me put on a pretty smile and pretend if that suits you.”

Fuck. “I promise you this situation will get better.”

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep, shall we?”

She had a point. She didn’t know me. She didn’t know that if I promised to keep her safe that was my intention. But I was going to do everything in my power to make sure that’s what happened.

Are you going to keep her safe just like Phoebe?

Even from my subconscious, that was dickish. “Just relax. We’re almost there.”

When we switched cars, I’d switched to GPS on my phone. The thing about GPS devices was that they never told you exactly what to expect about the location you were traveling to, with the exception of Google, maybe. You could get a street view, or a satellite view if you had one. But when we pulled up to London’s friend’s place, I felt like I was at the Guggenheim Museum.

Ultra-modern, weird, funky architecture. A large metal sculpture sat at the top. It looked like a metal wonton. What in the world?

The house itself was all white and chrome and steel. “This is your friend’s place? Rian?”

She stared up at the building as if she wanted to smile but it couldn’t quite reach her face. “Yep. Rian Drake.”

I frowned. Why was that name familiar?

“She was one of People magazine’s most beautiful last year. The cover, actually. And she won an Oscar two years ago. A Tony, too. Oh, and a Grammy for her movie, The Wild Children.”

I paused at the entrance of the driveway. “What? Rian Drake? The actress?”

“Yes, she’s an actress.”

I blinked at her. “So the last two hours we’ve