Rogue Royalty

by Meghan March

  But with Giles still alive . . . it’s not safe. He’s seen my face now. If he heard about a man matching my description visiting Ma, he wouldn’t hesitate to dig into my background and try to figure out who I am.

  Do I think he’d be successful? No. I’ve paid a fuck-ton of money to cover my tracks. But am I going to risk Ma’s safety if there’s even a remote chance that this could blow back on her? No way in hell.

  Which means I keep my distance, regardless of what I want. It would be stupid to do anything else.

  If only someone would put out a hit on Giles, things might be different. But no one has, and unlike in the situation surrounding Ransom, I’m not about to embark on vigilante justice when it comes to Giles. There are too many risks for only my own selfish reward.

  When Temperance pulls into the blacktopped parking lot in front of the tall brick building that houses Seven Sinners distillery, she parks around the side, near the other employees’ cars. I’m sure it’s out of habit, one she’s about to break.

  I assume that’s the reason for her silence—coming to terms with the fact that she’s leaving the job that has been the driving force behind her ambition for years.

  “You okay?” I ask her as she turns off the SUV.

  With a deep breath, she turns to me. “I think so. I know I need to do this.”

  “Only if it’s what you want.”

  “You told me I need to do it.”

  I reach out and lay a hand on her thigh. “Because I saw how different you are when you talked about your art versus working here. There’s nothing wrong with this job. If you loved it and wanted to keep it, I’d be one hundred percent for it. But since you don’t seem to want to split your time anymore, I say go after the one that gets you closest to your dream.”

  She nods. “I just . . . I’m worried about how Keira is going to react. She’s done so much for me, and now I feel like I’m letting her down.”

  Ah. So that’s it.

  “You did the job you were hired to do, and now you found something else you can make a living at and enjoy more. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Okay. I can do this.”

  I lean over and press a kiss to her cheek. “You can do anything, princess. This was just a stepping-stone in your path. It’s your boss’s dream, not yours. She’ll understand.”

  She pauses with her hand on the door and her front teeth digging into her lower lip.

  “What?”

  “Mount told me to keep my mess away from Keira, or he’d take care of me.”

  I reach out and take her hand. “You let me worry about Mount. Besides, if that was what he said, then he’ll approve of this move.”

  With another deep breath, Temperance opens the door of the Bronco. “Wish me luck.”

  23

  Temperance

  The familiar smells and sounds of the distillery greet me as I step inside the building. I catch sight of the back of Louis Artesian’s head as he steps into a storeroom.

  The walk to Keira’s office has never seemed shorter. Shouldn’t it take longer to get there?

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my black pencil skirt before adjusting my yellow blouse again.

  I picked a sunny color thinking it felt optimistic and cheerful, but it’s not helping. I’ve halfway convinced myself to turn around so I can change into jeans and a T-shirt and go hammer metal instead.

  Why am I afraid to tell her?

  Because Keira’s been there for me for years. Working at Seven Sinners was the best job I’ve ever had in my life, along with giving me a reliable income and carrying some prestige, so it seems insane for me to quit. And yet, I can’t make myself come back and work here.

  Giving up the steady paycheck is the biggest risk, but the new theme in my life seems to be taking chances. And this morning, I’m taking one of my biggest chances yet.

  At least, the biggest one outside of telling Kane that I loved him.

  I shake my head at the wonderment of that. Not only is he not dead, but he loves me and we have a future now.

  I pause in front of Keira’s closed door and tap on the wood.

  “Who is it?” she calls out.

  “Temperance,” I reply.

  “Come on in.”

  My hand slips off the handle on the first try, but I get it on the second and twist. As soon as I step inside the office, I freeze.

  Keira isn’t alone. Mount is here.

  Oh fuck.

  Immediately, I start to back up. “I’m so sorry. I truly didn’t mean to interrupt you. I can come back another time.” Like when I have body armor on, I add silently.

  Mount’s black eyes lock onto me, carrying a silent warning not even I could miss.

  “Thank the Lord, you’re back! I’ve missed you like crazy, and the work is getting out of control, even with the new people we hired.”

  Before I can answer, Mount speaks for me.

  “She’s not back. She’s here to quit.”

  His words leave no room for debate. Even if I hadn’t come here to give my notice, Mount would have ensured it. I suppose, in some respects, that makes this even easier. He doesn’t want me here, and no one questions the king.

  “What?” Keira blurts out the word, her shock clear from her tone. “She’s not going to—” Keira goes silent and stares at me. I don’t know what she’s looking for or what she sees on my face, but her expression falls. “You are here to quit, aren’t you?”

  Stupid tears. They burn behind my eyes, like I haven’t had enough emotional turmoil over the past month.

  “I’m so sorry, Keira.” I glance at Mount and his chin lifts in approval, giving me the wherewithal to continue. “But I don’t want to leave you in the lurch if you still really need me.”

  Keira looks up at Mount, and they have an entire conversation without ever speaking. When she turns her attention back to me, she shakes her head.

  “If this is what you need, then that’s what needs to happen. That doesn’t mean I won’t miss you like crazy, but with the extra help we’ve hired, we’ll figure it out. No one will ever quite be able to replace you, though.”

  “Are you sure?” I’m not certain how to feel about her easy acceptance, but I decide I’m going to be happy that she’s okay with it.

  Keira stands and walks around Mount to meet me in the middle of her office. “I’m positive. Running this distillery is the dream I’ve had since I was a little girl. But just because it’s my dream doesn’t mean it needs to be yours. I’m never going to hold you back or make you feel guilty for leaving to do something else that makes you happy. Do you have a plan?”

  I nod. “I do. Valentina is going to hold a showing at Noble Art for my sculptures. I’ve already sold her two, so I have a cushion to live on even if things fall apart.”

  “Don’t bank on it falling apart. I saw the piece we sold. You have talent.” Keira pauses. “You know I want one, right? Can you make one that looks like the Seven Sinners logo? I’ll commission it with a deposit and everything. I want to display it in the lobby.”

  The tears that were burning behind my eyes get the better of me, and one slides down my cheek. “You do?”

  “Absolutely. Inspirational and motivational. I’ll take it whenever you finish. No deadline. Just tell me how much.”

  I laugh because it’s the only choice other than bursting into thankful sobs. “I’ll have to get back to you on a price. I haven’t sorted any of that out yet.”

  “You ran this business like you were born to it. I know you can run your own like a master. Don’t doubt yourself, Temperance. You’ll be incredible.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “You never have to thank me for anything. You saved my ass more times than I can count. I’m grateful to you. Besides, it’s just wonderful to see you smile again.”

  Her comment brings me back to the present and everything that has happened in the last few days. A couple of mornings ago, I was a grieving, crying disaster. Today, I’m
only a bit of a crying mess. But still, I can’t tell Keira why that is. I can’t tell anyone why that is. At least, not yet.

  I glance back at Mount and find him watching me closely. That’s when I remember—he knows.

  He freaking knew all along. I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from asking why he would keep something so massive from me.

  Instead, I meet his dark stare with my own, and we have our own silent conversation.

  * * *

  Mount: Say anything about your brother or your hit man to my wife and you’ll face the consequences.

  Me: You’re a fucking prick, but I forgive you because the two most important men in my life are alive. Suck a dick, though.

  * * *

  Apparently, silent me is a lot more daring than real me.

  “Mount,” I say with a nod. “Good to see you.”

  He inclines his head. “Glad to see you took my words to heart.”

  “I’m doing my best.”

  “Keep it up. I’ll expect to see the piece Keira wants commissioned in the lobby within the month.”

  Keira whips around to look at her husband. “Six months. I’m not pressuring her.”

  “She needs the money, so she’ll get it to you sooner.”

  “He’s right. I’ll have it to you as soon as I’m able. But it might take longer than a month because of the showing.”

  My former boss shakes her head at her husband and turns back to me with a wink. “Feel free to send him the bill now, but I’ll take it whenever you finish.”

  A small chuckle escapes my throat. “Duly noted.”

  “I’ll have some boxes delivered to your office, and while we pack up your stuff, you’re going to tell me about the temp assistant you had while I was on vacation who mysteriously disappeared when you stopped coming in.”

  My gaze shoots to Mount, and his expression carries a warning I can’t ignore.

  “He didn’t work out as an assistant so much . . . because we started dating. He gave me some space while I was dealing with my grief, and things are . . . going well now.”

  Mount gives me an approving nod, and Keira beams.

  “I’m so happy for you, Temperance. I look forward to meeting him.”

  I smile too because I feel like I just dodged one of Mount’s bullets.

  “Now,” Keira adds, “let’s get you packed up so you can go chase that dream of yours even harder.”

  Forty minutes later, Kane helps me carry the boxes from my Bronco up to my apartment.

  “I can’t believe I did it. I’m officially unemployed!” I feel lighter, as if a massive weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

  I set the small box on the counter as Kane deposits a larger one in the corner of the living area and turns to face me.

  “You’re self-employed. There’s a difference.”

  I take a deep breath, and a wide smile stretches my cheeks until they hurt. “Either way, I feel really good about it. It’s like I’m getting a brand-new start at life.”

  He crosses the room, closing the distance between us with only a couple of steps.

  “That’s how I felt the second time you came to the club.”

  Another wave of warmth blooms in my chest. “Really?”

  He nods.

  “Why the second time?”

  “Because the first time was a dream. The second time held a different kind of promise. Like it was the beginning of something that could be more than a club fling. Everything about it was different. You were different.”

  I remember how he left me covered with a blanket, leaving a note saying he wanted to see me again. Knowing that was the absolute truth fills me with another wave of warmth.

  I take the opportunity to ask another question that has occupied my mind. “If you hadn’t seen me at the distillery during the auction, would you have come looking for me?”

  His blue gaze turns solemn. “Of course. You’re not the kind of woman a man can walk away from without intending to make his way back to as soon as possible.”

  Those pesky tears shimmer again, but this time I don’t let them fall. I have a better idea.

  “Kiss me, Kane.”

  “You mean kiss the artist I’m in love with?”

  My smile widens, because now I can check one of the things off my list. “Yes. Kiss her.”

  His hand tangles in my hair as he lowers his lips to mine.

  While we’re curled around each other in bed an hour later, my phone chimes with a text.

  “I don’t want to look. I don’t want reality to intrude today.”

  Kane sweeps a lock of hair off my face. “We’re real, princess. Reality ain’t gonna change anything about that. Go check and see if it’s important, and come back to me.”

  I untangle myself from him with a sigh and head for the living room to find my purse. My phone chimes again.

  I pull it out and check the screen. “What the hell?”

  “What?” Kane calls out.

  “It’s Magnolia.”

  24

  Kane

  I don’t know what the hell Magnolia wants, but I don’t like one of the most notorious madams of New Orleans texting my woman or coming to her apartment. Apparently, whatever Magnolia has to say to Temperance, she can’t say over the phone or put in writing because it isn’t safe.

  That makes me even more hesitant to let Temperance face her alone, but I couldn’t argue the fact that Magnolia might be more open with her than with both of us.

  And this is why I’m listening through a crack in the door from Temperance’s bedroom as she lets Magnolia in.

  “What’s going on? You sounded like this was important,” Temperance says.

  “You think I’d rush my ass all over the French Quarter if it’s not important? Of course it’s important, girl. You done lost your fool mind in grief, haven’t you?”

  Magnolia stood behind Keira that day at the cemetery when they thought they were burying Ransom, and I have to wonder if Ransom was dumb enough to reach out to Magnolia to tell her the truth about being alive. My guess is no, because I can hear her heels strike the wood planks of Temperance’s living room as she paces.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You. Quitting your damn job. Grief has you all screwed up. That’s the only reason you’d be dumb enough to do it. But you need to go tell Ke-Ke you need it back right the fuck now.”

  The urgency in Magnolia’s tone rubs me the wrong way. She knows something I don’t, and that is never a good thing.

  “Why?”

  Temperance’s question is exactly the one I want answered. I have no idea why Magnolia would give a shit about Temperance quitting.

  That’s when Magnolia drops the bomb.

  “Because you need to be in the circle of Mount’s protection, girl. There are still people out there who could come after you because of your brother. Unless you want to end up dead.”

  People? We know about Lagarto, but if what Magnolia is spouting off is true, we missed someone we didn’t know about, and that can’t stand.

  25

  Temperance

  I stare at Magnolia like she’s not speaking English. “Who? What are you talking about?”

  The slightly intimidating woman—with her perfect hair, perfect clothes, and perfect makeup—shoots me a cutting look.

  “I know you ain’t part of my world, and I don’t want you to be, but you don’t know what a bad fucking move you just made. You put yourself at risk the second word got out you aren’t under Mount’s protection anymore. You need to get back under his protection, or you’re going to end up as dead as your brother.”

  That answers one question. She doesn’t know Rafe is alive.

  But she apparently has information that I don’t have.

  “Who do I need protection from?” I ask, hoping Kane is listening to this conversation word for word through the cracked bedroom door. Whatever Magnolia has to say, we both need to hear it.

  “Who do you
think?” She cops an attitude, which seems to be her natural state, propping her hand on her hip.

  I tap into all the acting skills I don’t actually have and dig into my grief, which is still simmering just below the surface. “Kane said . . . Kane said that if they killed Rafe, there would be no reason for them to come after me. I don’t understand.” My voice breaks at the end.

  Magnolia’s gaze sharpens. “Who the fuck is Kane?”

  Shit! Not only am I a terrible actress, but now I’ve given away part of Kane’s true identity. Great, Temperance. Just great.

  Part of me expects him to burst through the door from my bedroom any moment, but it doesn’t happen. It’s up to me to get myself out of this mess and find out what Magnolia knows.

  “That’s what he told me to call him,” I whisper.

  “The motherfucker who killed Rafe?” Her voice shifts to a hiss.

  I don’t answer because I realize I’ve fucked up royally. But Magnolia doesn’t need me to speak because she’s got plenty to say.

  “I hope the devil welcomed him with open arms, because otherwise I’d kill him myself.”

  “Who do you think is going to kill me? Why do I need protection?” I ask, trying to redirect the conversation.

  Magnolia doesn’t ask permission, just moves toward my sofa and takes a seat. “Sit,” she orders. I swear, the woman is bossier than Keira.

  I follow her direction, but only because she’s the keeper of information I need.

  “I need to know. I can’t protect myself if I don’t know.”

  She presses two fingers into each temple and exhales. Only then can I see the weariness in her expression. Magnolia might be the most beautiful woman in New Orleans, but there’s a hard edge to her that has sharpened over the last month, as if honed by grief.

  “Mags, please. I didn’t ask to be involved in any of this.”