by Meghan March
“Trying to make an entrance?”
The deep voice that comes out of the dark chills me to the very marrow of my bones.
I’ve only heard it once before, through the battered wood of the same locked door I just barged past, but it was delivering threats I didn’t understand, not asking a question in that cool, controlled manner.
There’s no way I want to be in the dark with this voice.
He’s not a ghost. He’s worse.
He’s the frigging boogeyman, whispered about in the shadows but never mentioned in polite company, almost as if saying his name will make him appear. And no one wants that.
I’ve never said it. I don’t even want to think it now, but my brain conjures it anyway.
Lachlan Mount.
I fumble around, slapping the concrete wall to find the light switch, but when I flip it, nothing happens.
Oh, sweet Jesus. I’m going to die and I won’t even see it coming.
My antique desk chair creaks just before the dim glow of my desk lamp clicks on.
I see his massive hands first, then darkly tanned forearms with white cuffs rolled up. The light doesn’t reach his face.
“Shut the door, Ms. Kilgore.”
Swallowing back the saliva pooling in my mouth at the fact that he knows my name, I move my hand as though directly responding to his command. I grope for the handle behind me, when all I really want to do is turn around and run.
To the police.
Maybe they could . . . I don’t know. Save me?
I glance over my shoulder, clutching the knob as the door creaks shut, the urge to flee growing as the dim light of the hallway disappears from sight.
“Take a step in that direction and you’ll lose everything.”
My feet freeze to the cracked cement floor as a bead of sweat rolls down my chest. Normally I would attribute it to the sauna-like conditions produced by the whiskey stills, but not tonight.
“What do you want?” I whisper. “Why are you here?”
The chair groans as he rises to his feet, those wide fingers refastening the button on his suit coat, but his face never comes into the light.
“You owe me a debt, Ms. Kilgore, and I’m here to collect.”
“A debt?”
My mind scrambles to think of how in the hell I could owe him money. I’ve never met him before. Hell, I’ve never seen him before, only heard his voice while I eavesdropped. My kind doesn’t mingle with his—well, at least, most of my kind. A few rumors circulated that he kept Richelle LaFleur, a girl from our church, as a mistress until she went missing a year ago. I shut that path of thinking down completely.
“What are you talking about?” Somehow, I manage to form the question.
Two fingers push a document titled Promissory Note across the scarred wood of my desk into the watery pool of light. My eyes lock on the papers, but I’m too terrified to step any closer.
Oh, sweet Jesus, Brett. What did you do? My heart slams against my ribs.
“Don’t you want to know how much your husband borrowed with this place as collateral?”
“How much?” I ask, inching toward him against my will.
“A half million dollars.”
I suck in a shocked breath. “You’re lying.”
With both hands on the desk, he leans down, exposing his face in the dim light. Hard features carved from granite, piercing dark eyes, and an unrelenting stare contrast with the relative civility of the suit that fits him to perfection.
“I never lie.”
A half million dollars? No way. “I would’ve known if Brett had borrowed that kind of money, and let me tell you—he didn’t.”
He shrugs as if the information means nothing to him. And maybe it doesn’t.
“His signature says that he did, and this debt is overdue.”
My eyes zero in on the papers on the desk. If he really did this . . . The effects would be catastrophic.
Four generations of Kilgores have dedicated their hopes, dreams, and fortunes to keeping this legacy alive. It can’t end with me.
“I don’t have the money.”
“I know.”
His response throws me back on my heels. “Then why—”
He moves out of the light and comes toward me. I shrink back against the wall as he advances, blocking my escape route to the door. There’s nowhere to run. He has me trapped.
“Because there’s something I might be willing to take in trade.”
It takes everything I have to keep my voice steady as my heart threatens to burst from my chest. “What?”
He stops a foot from me, and his full lips form a single word.
“You.”
* * *
Purchase Ruthless King by tapping here. You don’t want to miss the rest of Mount and Keira’s deliciously addictive story.
Acknowledgments
I always say it takes a village to write a great story, and that’s exactly what this one took. I’m blessed to have an incredible team that helps me every step of the way. Massive thanks go out to Mo Mabie, Pam Berehulke, Kim Bias, Julie Deaton, Erin Fisher, and Martha McLendon. I appreciate all of you so much. And to my husband, Jacob Wilson, who plays a bigger role in my writing and storytelling than anyone truly understands—I love you more than words can adequately describe, and I can’t wait to see where our next adventure takes us. Our future is fucking bright, BDJ.
As always, thank you to all the bloggers who tirelessly promote my work solely for the love of books. You’re rock stars.
To my readers—I am so fucking grateful for all of you. Thank you for coming along on this wild ride. I promise, we’re just getting started.
Until the next one—dream big, my friends. You never know what could happen.
Also by Meghan March
Magnolia Duet
Creole Kingpin
(March 2020)
Madam Temptress
(April 2020)
* * *
Legend Trilogy
The Fall of Legend
House of Scarlett
The Fight for Forever
* * *
Dirty Mafia Duet:
Black Sheep
White Knight
* * *
Forge Trilogy:
Deal with the Devil
Luck of the Devil
Heart of the Devil
* * *
Sin Trilogy:
Richer Than Sin
Guilty as Sin
Reveling in Sin
* * *
Mount Trilogy:
Ruthless King
Defiant Queen
Sinful Empire
* * *
Savage Trilogy:
Savage Prince
Iron Princess
Rogue Royalty
Beneath Series:
Beneath This Mask
Beneath This Ink
Beneath These Chains
Beneath These Scars
Beneath These Lies
Beneath These Shadows
Beneath The Truth
* * *
Dirty Billionaire Trilogy:
Dirty Billionaire
Dirty Pleasures
Dirty Together
* * *
Dirty Girl Duet:
Dirty Girl
Dirty Love
* * *
Real Duet:
Real Good Man
Real Good Love
* * *
Real Dirty Duet:
Real Dirty
Real Sexy
* * *
Flash Bang Series:
Flash Bang
Hard Charger
* * *
Standalones:
Take Me Back
Bad Judgment
About the Author
Making the jump from corporate lawyer to romance author was a leap of faith that New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author Meghan March will never regret. With over thirty titles published
, she has sold millions of books in nearly a dozen languages to fellow romance-lovers around the world. A nomad at heart, she can currently be found in the woods of the Pacific Northwest, living her happily ever after with her real-life alpha hero.
She would love to hear from you. Connect with her at:
www.meghanmarch.com