Page 79 of Crush (Deadly Hearts 1)

ChapterForty-Two

Ruby

Iwake up suddenly. Sitting up in bed, the silk sheet slides down over my breasts. I’m alone when only moments ago, my men were with me.

My men.

I smile, but it’s quickly replaced by concern. I blink and then realize that it’s light out. It was dark when I drifted off. I pick up my phone and look at the time.

9AM.

Wow. I haven’t slept in that late since before my assault.

Climbing out of bed, I wince and hobble to the armchair to pick up my robe. I’m aching from head to toe, my back is burning, and my pussy feels like it was hit with a sledgehammer.

“Ow, ow, ow,” I mutter, treading lightly down the hallway. Before I reach the sitting room, I hear Declan speaking quietly and stop to listen. I don’t know why, but something about the tone of his voice makes me pause. It’s soft. It’s the tone he uses on me when he’s pleased with me.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “I’ll be home soon. I promise.”

My blood runs cold, but I’m not one to let things go. I like a good confrontation and he’s about to find himself slap bang in the middle of a doozy.

Ignoring my aches and pains, I stride into the sitting room and snap, “Don’t let me keep you from your lover, you dick!”

He turns, a look of surprise on his face, which turns to amusement.

I notice he is freshly showered and clothed in jeans and a t-shirt that is a far cry from the tux he came back here in a few hours ago.

He holds up his phone and wiggles it at me. “Eavesdropping, Princess?”

“You are in my home,” I growl. “You don’t get to have cutesy private conversations.”

“What? Not even with me mam?”

I frown, and then feel like the biggest dick going. Which is saying something around here.

“Oh,” I mumble, embarrassed at my outburst. “You were speaking to your mom.”

“I was. But I love that you aren’t passive aggressive about absolutely anything, darlin’. Aggression all the way is a major turn on.”

“Fuck you,” I drawl, but inwardly I’m smug. I’m also a bit marshmallow-y. He loves his mom and isn’t too big of a man to tell her.

“So home is…”

“Dublin,” he finishes my sentence. “Do you want to come?”

“Uh,” I stammer, sideswiped by the offer. “Your mom probably doesn’t want me intruding,” I bleat like a fuckwit.

“She is dying to meet you,” he responds casually. “And it’s only fair. I know your father, after all.”

“Yeah, and he punched you in the face,” I say, pointing to his bruised cheek.

He chuckles. “I promise my mam isn’t as belligerent as your da.”

A tingle goes down my spine as he drops back into a broader Irish accent than he usually has.

“Can I think about it?” I mutter.

“Of course,” he says and holds his hand out for me. “I’ve told her all about you though, so she’ll be expecting to meet you soon.”

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