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Feeling as if he’s on my scent, I quickly turn into a room and close the door behind me. I know I’m trapping myself in, but maybe I can climb out a window. Or maybe I can wait the party out and sneak out after all the guests have left. Maybe Maxim will believe I was never here. He didn’t see me, so maybe if I just hide, I’ll be safe.

“You felt the need to leave the party too, I see.” I hear a voice from a large high-back chair sitting by a roaring fire. A voice so thick, gravelly, and foreign that shivers run down my spine. “Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a good party. I just prefer them to be on my own turf.”

My eyes adjust to the dimness of the room, and I see Nick Hudson sitting in the leather chair sipping amber liquid from a crystal cut glass. A large mantel with an intricate wreath and garland masters the room, and yet this man is not dwarfed by the massive size of his surroundings. I can see now that I’m in a study that is empty except for him. He’s here.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, as my heart skips. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” I consider leaving, but Maxim could be on the other side.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, still watching the fire, his ankle crossed over his knee. He seems so at home in the Morellis’ study. “Your life’s at risk as long as you stay.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, confused that he seems to know me.

“You can run from them, but can’t stay hidden long,” he says as he raises his glass to his lips and drinks.

Chapter Two

Nick

Fucking beautiful.

Lyriope. She doesn’t think I know who she is, but I know who everyone is. I’m Nick motherfucking Hudson. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.

Some people sell products. Weapons. Drugs. People.

Me? I sell information.

The private club I own is where I mine that gold. Every man who holds power in the underworld has had tea with me. Every woman, too. The Morellis aren’t criminals. Not exactly. But I know them. And they know me. I would recognize this young woman as a bastard of Bryant Morelli anywhere. But even if I didn’t, this dark-haired vixen nearly sucks the air from the room with her magnificence. She makes me want to claim her as mine.

She freezes when she hears my voice, refusing to take a step forward. Does she think I’ll disappear if she doesn’t approach? Does she think she can close her eyes and pretend I don’t exist?

“Lyriope,” I nearly growl her name. “Daddy doesn’t know you’re here.”

Her eyes widen, she swallows hard, and then takes a large step into the room, no longer pressing her back against the thick oak door. She straightens her shoulders, lifts her chin, and tightens her jaw.

Good girl.

Don’t show you’re intimidated.

Never show you’re intimidated.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she says with ice dripping from her words. I love her smokescreen even though I can see right through it. She walks to the chair across from me but doesn’t sit down.

“Forgive me,” I say as I stand up and bow before her. I’ll play her game. I love games. “I’m Nick.” I reach for her hand and kiss the top of her delicate skin.

Her eyelashes flutter as she glances at my lips on her flesh, and then suddenly snaps her hand from my grip. “Why would I be in danger?”

Her acting needs work. She knows exactly what I’m talking about. But again… I like games, so I’ll play along.

“There’s a bounty on your head. A very, very expensive one. Well done, my girl. The people you pissed off really want you dead.”

She takes a step back in her heels. Heels I’d love to see on each of my shoulders as I thrust my cock inside of her. Her shapely legs quiver, maybe threaten to buckle, but she recovers quickly. Her facial expression remains as cool and collected as when she first readied herself to face me. “And how would you know such a thing?”

She doesn’t lie to me and deny the information.

Good girl.

I detest liars.

“You know how, my girl. You know.”

Her chin lifts just a bit more, her eyebrow rises and the tiniest smirk surfaces on her pink lips. “Humor me and tell me how you know so much about me.”

“You were discussed at my club.” I reach down for the bottle of bourbon I have waiting for me on the center table and then hand her my glass so she can drink from it. “Here. It looks like you could use a drink.” I take a long swallow straight from the bottle, my eyes never leaving hers, before I add, “Naughty, naughty. You pissed off some extremely vengeful and ruthless Russians. You’re all the talk right now.”


Tags: Alta Hensley Wonderland Billionaire Romance