Page 114 of Filthy Lovin Heroes

Ronan’s laugh had no warmth. “You figured it out?”

I seethed. I hated Malcolm Murdoch.

Why?

There were so many reasons.

For being in my life.

For meddling in my life.

For making me his.

For making me fall in love with him.

“When Malcolm finds out where I am, he’s going to kill you.”

“I’m counting on him trying.” The timber of Ronan’s voice was so similar to Malcolm’s it was eerie.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Yeah. Not the answer I wanted. I leaned my forehead against my window. With the clear night, the moonlight shone down on top of the fresh snow. Even being kidnapped didn’t change how beautiful the still night was.

Not a soul was out except some idiot driving a sleigh.

I peered closer. Said idiot wore a hat, and his coat flapped around him. He looked damn good in his kilt as he raced across the open field on a course to intersect with us.

I exhaled, relief flooding my body at the sight of him.

“Malcolm.”

Nine

Malcolm

Ilit the damn Christmas tree, then as the champagne corks popped, I moved to the ballroom.

Holly wasn’t there.

I raced upstairs to my room. She wasn’t there either, but I was relieved to find all her things were still there.

I dragged a calming breath into my lungs. She wouldn’t do anything drastic. She was too smart for that.

I checked the study and all her usual haunts.

Nothing.

Anxiety balled in the pit of my stomach.

The front hall was filling with exiting guests.

“Have you seen Holly?” I interrupted my mother’s farewell to some guests.

My mother’s worried expression said it all. She wasn’t a worrier.

Fuck.

---