Page 10 of The Savage King

I’m hardly in any position to argue, tucked under his arm and staring at the blood-soaked lawn as he carries me out of the gunfire, so I don’t answer. Mostly because I think I’m going to vomit.

And also, because he’s obviously stronger than me and getting me out of the line of fire.

However, when we get out of here, he can let me go.

I can’t believe Connor left Sienna and me with these gangsters.

Dexsounds American to me, but he’s either with the Mexicans, Russians, Irish, or Italians. What do I know? I’m a dental assistant from New York who just wants to go home.

I can’t believe I thought all of this was incredibly exciting and romantically dramatic. Well, fuck that. I was wrong.

Suddenly, I’m dropped to my feet and hauled up against Dex’s hard body and I let out a little gasp.

His eyes dart down to me and there is a dark heat in them, sending a shot of electricity through me.

Oh, boy. This isn’t good.

He’s one very hot man and much larger than my five foot five—he has to be at least six four—so this should feel intimidating, but it doesn’t.

All I can think is how incredible it would be to have sex with a man like this. He’s everything I can’t have and shouldn’t have.

Bad Isabelle.

Which is the point. But not the time.

“You hear what I said?” He lifts my chin, his eyes darting between mine and the chaos around us.

I nod. “Yes, but—”

“Good. Don’t speak unless you have to. I will get you home.” He says, then someone calls his name. “Crap, let’s go.”

He curses repeatedly as we run towards the gates of the mansion while they roll open.

I hear police and fire sirens.Oh, thank God.I slow down and Dex yanks me into his side, shooting me a look. He halts for a moment as if considering what to do. Then, that same man calls out.

“Dex, amigo, the fuck. Let’s go.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, you have to come with,” he says, sweeping me off my feet and running like a madman while I scream.

“Let me down!” I pound at his chest, arms, and back.

While my heart pounds, terror running through my veins, I’m tossed into the back of an SUV and Dex is climbing in after me.

More men jump in, and Dex wraps his arm around me, covering my mouth.

“Stay quiet, and I’ll keep you alive,” he grunts into my ear.

Like a deer in the headlights, I sit with his massive hand over my mouth and watch the doors slam closed. Then the tires are squealing as the driver floors it.

My body presses into Dex’s, and this time, there is no spark.

A man in the front shifts, and his eyes dart between Dex and me. “I see you got yourself a souvenir.”

An icy dread runs down my spine. Not only because of the crude words, but the dark glint in his eyes and cruel tilt of his lips tells me he is not a good man. He has the same energy about him as Joe Mancini, and I know with every inch of my being that I should be terrified of him.

“You know me. I don’t like to miss an opportunity.” Dex shrugs, but I feel him press an inch closer.

Taking ownership.

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