Savage Prince_An Anti-Heroes Collection Novel
Page 17
I’ve never said it.
I don’t even want to think it now, but my brain conjures it anyway.
Lachlan Mount.
I fumble around, slapping the concrete wall to find the switch, but when I flip it, nothing happens.
Oh Sweet Jesus, I’m going to die and I won’t even see it coming.
My antique desk chair creaks just before the dim glow of my lamp clicks on.
I see his massive hands first, then darkly tanned forearms with white cuffs rolled up. The light doesn’t reach his face.
“Shut the door, Ms. Kilgore.”
Swallowing back the saliva pooling in my mouth at the fact that he knows my name, my hand moves as though directly responding to his command. I grope for the handle behind me, when all I really want to do is turn around and run.
To the police.
Maybe they could… I don’t know. Save me?
I glance over my shoulder, clutching the knob as the door creaks shut, the urge to flee growing as the dim light of the hallway disappears from sight.
“Take a step in that direction, and you’ll lose everything.”
My feet freeze to the cracked cement floor as a bead of sweat rolls down my chest. Normally I would attribute it to the sauna-like conditions produced by the stills, but not tonight.
“What do you want?” I whisper. “Why are you here?”
The chair groans as he rises to his feet, those wide fingers refastening the button on his suit, but his face never coming in to the light.
“You owe me a debt, Ms. Kilgore, and I’m here to collect.”
A debt? My mind scrambles to think of how in the hell I could owe him money. I’ve never met him before. Hell, I’ve never seen him before, only heard his voice while I eavesdropped. My kind doesn’t mingle with his kind, well, at least most of my kind. A few rumors have circled that he kept Richelle LaFleur, a girl from our church, as a mistress until she went missing a year ago. I shut that path of thinking down completely.
“What are you talking about?” Somehow I manage to form the question.
Two fingers push a document titled Promissory Note across the scarred wood of my desk into the watery pool of light. My eyes rivet on the papers, but I’m too terrified to step any closer.
Oh sweet Jesus, Brett. What did you do? My heart slams against my ribs.
“Don’t you want to know how much your husband was willing to risk to save this place?”
“How much?” I ask, inching his way against my will.
“A half million dollars.”
I suck in a shocked breath. “You’re lying.”
With both hands on the table, he leans down, exposing his face in the dim light. Hard features carved from granite, piercing eyes, and an unrelenting stare contrast with the relative civility of the suit that fits him to perfection.
“I never lie.”
A half million dollars? No way. “I would’ve known if Brett had sunk five hundred thousand into the distillery, and let me tell you—he didn’t.”
He shrugs as if the information means nothing to him. And maybe it doesn’t.
“His signature says that he did, and this debt is overdue.”
My eyes zero in on the papers on the desk. If he really did this… The effects would be catastrophic.
Four generations of Kilgores had dedicated their hopes, dreams, and fortunes to keeping this legacy alive. It couldn’t end with me.
“I don’t have the money.”
“I know.”
His response throws me back on my heels. “Then why—”
He moves out of the light and comes toward me. I shrink back against the wall as he advances.
“Because there’s something I might be willing to take on trade.”
It takes everything I have to keep my voice steady. “What?”
He stops a foot from me, and his full lips form a single word.
“You.”
Welcome to the darker and dirtier side of New Orleans. Ruthless King is live and Mount is coming to take what he’s owed. The complete Mount Trilogy is now available! Ruthless King is available for purchase by tapping here.
About the Author
Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in the woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut.
Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty-talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had.
She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.
Also by Meghan March
Savage Trilogy
Savage Prince
Iron Princess
Rogue Royalty
Mount trilogy:
Ruthless King
Defiant Queen
Sinful Empire
Standalone:
Take Me Back
Bad Judgment
Beneath Series:
Beneath This Mask
Beneath This Ink
Beneath These Chains
Beneath These Scars
Beneath These Lies
Beneath These Shadows
Beneath The Truth
Flash Bang Series:
Flash Bang
Hard Charger
Dirty Billionaire Trilogy:
Dirty Billionaire
Dirty Pleasures
Dirty Together
Dirty Girl Duet:
Dirty Girl
Dirty Love
Real Duet:
Real Good Man
Real Good Love
Real Dirty Duet:
Real Dirty
Real Sexy