Page 35 of The Princess and Her Mercenary

Chapter Eighteen

Before Ndari could so much as let out a scream she was dragged behind the bar and into an alleyway. Oh, hell no. She was not about to be raped and murdered in some dirty dark disgusting alleyway. The second he pulled the knife away, she started fighting for all she was worth. Punching, kicking, biting, scratching. She opened her mouth to let out the most bloodcurdling scream she'd ever made in her life, but it was cut off midway when she was slapped so hard that she spun around and slammed into the side of a vehicle.

Before she could regain her senses, someone shoved a bag over her head and lifted her into the vehicle. The door slammed shut behind her. She was about to drag the bag off her for head and start fighting again when she was shoved face down, her arms pulled behind her back and secured with a rope.

She was too busy wiggling and trying to dismount the guy on top of her to realize that the vehicle was moving. But after a few minutes she could feel the wild rocking as the vehicle took corners so fast the tires screeched.

They hadn't driven long when the vehicle came to a sudden halt. It stopped so fast that she slammed into the seat and the guy on top of her toppled over.

She would've laughed except the door was wrenched open and she was dragged out backwards by her ankles. Her jean skirt rose up her thighs until she was positive that her panties were showing. She was getting angrier by the second. She was not new to this whole kidnapping thing. She’d had threats against her for years, and Keane had successfully managed to kidnap her. Every single attempt on her had been made while still maintaining her dignity. These assholes apparently had no idea how to treat a Princess. The second her mouth was free she was going to let them know.

She expected to find herself in some ramshackle warehouse, because so far these guys weren’t showing a whole lot of class. But when her face was finally free and she could look around she was somewhat bemused to find herself standing in a very nice suite that rivalled some of the fanciest hotels she’d stayed in. What the heck was going on?

"Thank you for joining us, lass."

Ndari turned to face the person who was speaking to her. “I wasn’t given much choice,” she snapped, treating him to a scathing look.

Instead of finding a man as rough as the rest, she found herself facing a man who was probably in his 40s and extremely well dressed in a high-end suit and tie. His hair was impeccable, his teeth were white and straight, and he wore a ring on the middle finger of his right hand that was both expensive and well cared for.

"I assume you are my generous host?" she asked sarcastically.

"I am indeed," he said with a wry smile. "I hope you didn't find your transportation too trying."

She fingered her cheek. "Actually, I could have done without the punch to the face. Your men do not know how to treat a Princess."

"A Princess?" He raised an eyebrow.

Oh, shit. He hadn't known she was a Princess. Ndari had assumed he would know, because why else would she be kidnapped? Which left only one other reason. Keane. She had only herself to blame, she was the one that convinced him to come back to Dublin. Although he could have mentioned that he had enemies here.

"What exactly do you want with me?" she demanded.

"It's not you I want," he looked her up and down, appreciation written on his face. "Although I might be changing my mind about that. It's your boyfriend that I've been looking for. For two fucking decades that asshole has eluded me."

"What does this have to do with me?" she asked sharply. "It's not like he's been hiding since coming to Dublin. If your men saw him at the bar why didn't you just go talk to him there?”

"Because he would have said no."

She really hated to play into a bad guy's rhetoric but she just had to ask, “Would have said no to what?"

He circled around her, and then stopped in front of her, tipping her chin. He was careful to only very lightly touch the beginning of the bruise that was darkening her face. A look of regret flitted across his features and she hoped this meant that she had something to work with. A bad guy with a conscience could be manipulated.

"I am truly sorry that you were injured. I’ll make sure that this doesn't happen again. To answer your question, I’m hoping that by keeping you here, I will be able to persuade our mutual friend into doing me a favour. He owes me after his unexpected exit from Ireland."

"Here’s a piece of advice," Ndari said impatiently. "The reason villains always fail in movies is because they talk too much. Gives the good guy time to rescue the Princess.” Okay, so she was stretching the truth by calling Keane a good guy, but in this scenario he was just going to have to play the white knight. “Either say what you mean or don't bother to speak to me at all. I'm not interested in the dramatics. Also, I require a drink, preferably a margarita, but I’ll take a Guinness if you have one."

"I see you are a woman that knows her own mind," he said, moving away from her toward a wet bar.

Ndari followed, keeping a few feet of distance between them.

"Very well,” he said. “Plain speaking it is. When your boyfriend left Dublin 20 years ago, he left behind a rather large debt owed to me. I fully intend to collect on that debt. I own a popular underground club that hosts fights every few weeks. I like to place my best man in the fights, but my number one went down last week with a broken ankle. Keane will take his place."

"Or what?" When he opened his mouth to answer she interrupted him with a finger held in the air. "And please don't bore me with your answer. I expect to hear something better than the usual, ‘threaten to cut off the girlfriend’s whatever’.”

He chuckled as he set two martini glasses on the bar and began mixing drinks. "I can see why our friend likes you so much. You are a sharp-tongued, plainspoken woman, but you do it in a playful manner that’s almost pleasing. It also doesn't hurt that you are quite beautiful."

"Are you stalling?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad, bad guy. He obviously had discerning taste in women.

"If Keane doesn't fight." He eyed her as though considering carefully. "Then I suppose I will allow him to trade his life for yours. Originally, I had thought to send him pieces of you so that he would know that I am serious. But, as you have pointed out, my plan was rather obvious. And having met you, I don't think I could bring myself to desecrate such a unique creature."

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