by Vivian Wood
Ducking out from behind the truck, Colt kept his body as low to the ground as possible as he jogged along the side of the house, Sawyer and Walker falling in behind him, single file. As he approached the back corner of the house, he peeked around it to scan for any signs of life.
All clear, he signed behind him before slipping into the backyard.
They followed the line of the house wall all the way to the back door, Colt stepping to position himself on the opposite side of it from Sawyer and Walker. Colt held each of his brothers eyes in turn, before reaching over to test the door handle. It was locked.
Sawyer signalled for Colt to pick the lock, but Colt just shook his head. Picking locks was time-consuming work, especially when you didn’t have the proper tools to do so. He didn’t want to take the chance of alerting anyone inside of their presence, not when they’d be sitting ducks out here if someone came to investigate before they got the door open.
No, Colt was going to bank on a more direct approach.
Without warning, Colt swung out from the wall to face the door. He lifted his leg, balancing his weight on his prosthetic foot as he slammed the heel of his boot into the door just below the handle, putting all his pent-up rage and frustration from the past couple hours after Rose’s abduction in to the motion.
The door burst inward, the glass shattering in its window upon impact. He could already hear a man’s voice shouting from somewhere inside the house, followed by a woman’s scream.
“Colt!” Sawyer barked his name like it was a profanity, but Colt ignored him as he ran headfirst into the house.
Rose was here somewhere, and nothing was going to stop him from getting to her.
“What the fuck was that?” Jared yelled when a loud crash sounded from the back of the house. He, the sheriff, and the man that had helped to abduct her earlier all got to their feet, instantly on high alert. Rose tried to make herself appear as small and unnoticeable as possible from where she was on the floor, propped up in some semblance of a seated position against the wall.
The past several hours had been an agonizing trial of waiting around for the four-hour time limit that Jared had issued Colt to slowly chip away. After making the ransom video, Jared had cut the tape securing her ankles and dragged her out here into what she assumed would have been a living room if properly furnished. As it was, her captors had seated themselves in folding chairs spread out around the room, saying very little to one another apart from Jared’s occasional orders.
For her part, Rose had spent the allotted time dwelling on whether or not Colt had gotten the sorry excuse for a clue that she had managed to slip into the ransom video, undetected by both Jared and the sheriff.
Judging by the commotion coming from the back of the house now, Rose suspected that she had her answer.
“You two,” Jared shouted, glaring at the sheriff and the third man. “Go see what’s going on.” Jared turned his attention to Rose as the two men swept from the room. He grinned viciously down at her. “You and I are going to be making our great escape now, I think.”
Rose shrank back from him as he approached her, screaming when he grabbed her by the hair to pull her to her feet.
“Shut up, you stupid bitch,” Jared hissed at her angrily, tightening the grip that he had on her hair and shaking her head roughly. Rose’s teeth knocked painfully together, but she kept her whimpers quieter this time.
That is, until she heard the resounding cracks of gunshots ripping through the air.
Jared didn’t even bother to quiet her this time as she screamed, her mind immediately flooding with images of Colt being riddled with bullets. Tears were streaming freely down her face now. If anything happened to him because he was trying to rescue her, Rose wasn’t sure she’d be able to come back from that.
Jared pressed his back against the front wall of the living room, dragging Rose with him like a human shield. She heard several male voices shouting down the hall, followed by more gunshots. One of Jared’s hands moved up to circle her throat like a collar, while the other pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans, digging the barrel into her ribcage. They were so close, Rose could feel his heart beating where her back was pressed against his chest. The entire house fell into a sudden, eerie silence, save for Rose’s stifled crying.
And then… “Rose?”
Rose thought she had never heard such a beautiful sound in her entire life.
Colt came running from down the hall, a black revolver in his hand. As soon as he entered, his eyes immediately found hers. Rose did her best to choke back a sob when she saw his face, but it was just too much. She was just so relieved that he was okay, if maybe a bit disheveled.
And he had come for her.
Colt made to take a step in her direction, but stopped cold when he finally noticed Jared standing behind her. And the gun he held.
Rose gasped as Jared’s hand tightened around her throat. He and Colt stared at each other for a long, loaded second, the only sound coming from police sirens that Rose could hear approaching from somewhere in the distance.
Colt was the first to break the silence. “Jared, just let her go.” Rose saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his eyes trained on the gun that Jared had pointed at her.
Jared gave a harsh laugh and Rose could feel his hot breath against the back of her neck. “Oh, I don’t think so. How about you drop that gun you have there, or else we’ll just have to see how loud Rose here can really scream.”
Colt hesitated, his gaze coming up to meet Rose’s. She’d seen him get worked up in the past, but this was different; never had his eyes held so much fear as she saw in them now. She wished she could comfort him somehow, tell him everything was going to be okay, but Jared’s grip on her throat made speaking impossible.
“Such a big man you are, Jared, defending yourself with a woman. You’re nothing but a weak little chickenshit, hiding behind daddy’s money,” Colt taunted, his voice too tight to be as flippant as his words.
Rose felt Jared bristle behind her. He took the gun away from her side, only to jam it roughly against the side of her head. She gave a strangled gasp at the pain of the impact, but Jared held her fast. “I said drop the fucking gun. Now!”
Colt’s gun fell to the floor instantly.
Jared smirked. “That’s what I thought. You’re not nearly as tough as you think you are, are you? You think you can take what's mine and get away with it? You should have just minded your own fucking business, you stupid redneck.” Jared laughed again. He took the gun from Rose’s head, only to level it at Colt’s. “Now I have everything, and you’re nothing but a dead man.”
Time seemed to slow down, the next seconds nothing but a series of still frames flashing before Rose’s eyes: Jared pointing the gun at Colt, his finger tightening imperceptibly around the trigger. Colt’s face as he stared at her from across the room, his heart in his lovely hazel eyes as if looking at her for the last time.
She snapped.
Rose reared her head back, catching Jared by surprise as it smashed into his face. She thought she heard his nose crack from the force of the blow as she simultaneously stomped her foot down on his instep.
The gun in Jared’s hand went off without warning.
Rose screamed as she fell to the floor, Jared having released her so that he could cover his blood-gushing nose with his hand. Her eyes searched frantically for Colt, anxious to make sure he hadn’t been shot, when his big body came suddenly charging across the room as he slammed full tilt into Jared. Both men crashed down onto the floor, Jared’s gun falling from his hand and skittering out of his reach.
And into Rose’s.
The two men grappled together, rolling across the floor as each tried to gain the upper hand in the fight. Colt eventually came out on top, raining blows down in to the already bloodied mess of Jared’s face. He didn’t notice when Jared’s hand found the gun that Colt had dropped earlier.
“Colt!”
Colt looked up as Rose screamed
, but it was too late. Jared was already lifting the gun…
BANG.
Jared’s hand fell limply back to the ground, the gun clunking hollowly against the hardwood floor as it loosed from his grasp.
Colt’s head jerked over to look at Rose, but she couldn’t see him. Her vision had tunneled, narrowing down until all she saw were her outstretched hands.
And the gun she held between them.
Something inside Rose cracked. A startled sob ripped from her chest as her whole body was racked with uncontrollable tremors.
She had shot him. She had shot Jared Chalke.
Is he dead?
The question sent her over the edge. She didn’t even notice as Colt came over to her slowly, gently taking the gun from her shaking hands.
“Rose?” he asked tentatively, his voice so soft that she could barely hear him over the rushing sound that filled her ears. He was crouched down beside her, his dark eyes roving over her body as he examined her for visible injuries. “Rose, are you okay? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, her mouth working as she tried to formulate a sentence. “I--I shot him,” was all she could say, barely louder than a whisper, before her face crumpled and more tears began to fall.
Colt made a pained sound in the back of his throat as he reached for her. She went willingly into his arms, burying her head into the crook of his neck as he cradled her against his chest.
She felt his lips press against the top of her head. “Shhh. I know, Rose. I know,” he murmured into her hair, his strong hands stroking her back, caressing her face. His touch was just as much to ascertain to himself that she was really okay as it was to soothe her. “It’s okay. It’s over; you’re safe now. You’re safe.”
And she was. Back in his arms, there was no safer place.
34
Later that night, when they were safe and sound back at the ranch, Colt watched Rose as she slept in his bed. It had been a long day for her, to say the least. After he’d rescued her in Sarepta, the rest of the day had been taken up by endless interrogations from the police.
The sheriff that arrived on the scene seemed stunned to find one of his own kind involved in all of the craziness, but it made him treat the whole thing much more carefully. Walker had the brilliant idea to call a news crew from Baton Rouge to monitor the situation, so that the police would feel pressure to keep things honest.
It was about damned time.
For all the excitement swirling around him, though, Colt couldn’t fall asleep like Rose had. He had too much going on in his head, even after the adrenaline faded away.
Rose stirred, opening her eyes.
“Hey,” she said sleepily.
“Hey,” he said, his lips curling into a smile.
“What time is it?”
She sat up, looking around for her cellphone.
“It’s about twelve thirty,” he said. “Definitely still time to be asleep.”
A ginger cat jumped on the bed, demanding to be petted. Rose stroked it absentmindedly, shaking her head.
“I thought… for a second, I thought today was just a bad dream,” she said. “I thought I must’ve made it up.”
He sat down on the bed next to her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “I really wish you had, Rose. I wish-- I should’ve told you about breaking into his house. I think that’s what pushed him over the line, made him kidnap you.”
“No,” Rose said, pulling back to look at him. “Jared was insane. That’s the reason.”
“Still…” he said, trying to tamp down the flare of anger that bloomed in his chest.
“Hey,” she said, pulling him close for a kiss. “It’s over. Now it’s just you and me.”
“Oh yeah?” He grabbed her by the waist and flipped their positions, so that she was on top, giggling. “Like this?”
Her laughter melted away his anger. She leaned down, giving him another long kiss.
“Just like this, I think,” she said at length.
He looked up into her sparkling eyes, grinning.
“I’m happy,” he admitted. “Just like this. Or in any other position that combines the two of us, come to think of it.”
She blushed bright red and dropped her gaze. She ran her fingers over his chest, teasing.
“Any reason you’re so happy?” she said.
The words bubbled up from somewhere deep inside him, coming out in an unexpected rush.
“I love you, Rose.”
Her wide eyes came up to meet his. The expression on her face was priceless, saying everything. She obviously hadn’t expected him to say that.
“I-- I--” she stammered.
“You don’t have to say it back,” he assured her, giving her hips a squeeze. “You can say whatever you w--”
A groan escaped her lips as she kissed him, hard and demanding. He was surprised by the kiss, by the invasion of her tongue. Never before had she been so bold, so needy.
He pressed her hips down against his, seeking more of her, always more. She pulled back, resting her forehead against his, breathing heavily.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
He paused for a beat. “Really?”
She laughed and raised herself up to look at him. “Really.”
He felt like his heart might burst at any second. It was overflowing with love, and gratitude toward Rose. Also a strange kind of disbelief…
She loved him back.
Alexis started barking to be let out, easing the tension in the room. She groaned and rolled her eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
Colt let her go. There would be plenty of time for more discussion when she came back.
For now, he just lay back and closed his eyes, content in knowing that she loved him. With that knowledge, he could go the rest of his life being happy.
He had the woman he loved, and who loved him back. Now he could start making plans that would last a lifetime.
He smiled, content for the first time in forever.
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Bad Boy Prince
Author’s Copyright
Cover design by Maeve Morrick
Copyright Vivian Veritas Publishing 2016
May not be replicated or reproduced in any manner without express and written permission from the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
1
Kit
You can do this. You’re royalty, remember? Distant royalty, disgraced royalty, but you still carry the royal bloodline. You belong here.
I suck in a deep breath as I stand in the massive white marble drive in front of Estat D’Or, the Valencia City residence of the King and Queen of Courtland. The palace is a seemingly endless, sprawling Renaissance masterpiece. Stark white stone rising high into the heavens, set in curved sections to form a giant circle, each piece capped by a dark gabled roof.
It’s meant to be intimidating, I remind myself.
“Katherine,” Charles says, nudging me with an elbow. “You’re standing on your own dress, babe.”
I shoot him a look; he knows I don’t like the word babe. It’s one of those shockingly American things he says. Like his oddly mellow accent, his ultra-American vocabulary is something I will get used to. Someday. Once we’re married, surely.
Next to the crisp British-influenced accents of Courtland, American accents often sound downright laughable. Then again, when I’m talking fast or a little drunk, people tease me about my own Courtland accent being incomprehensible.
Here, tonight, I will be surr
ounded by those accents once more. I will be normal, not the sore thumb I was in the States.
I’m home, I think, feeling a little awed.
I raise my foot, kicking out of my glittering, strappy gold Michael Kors heel so that I can free the trailing hem of my red lace Tadashi Shoji gown. I’ve really gone all out tonight, piling my long ash blonde hair high on my head, artfully applying smoky-eye makeup to make my sky gray eyes pop, matching the color of my dress to my lipstick.
There is no question, I am trying to impress tonight.
“Give me your arm,” I say once I’m detangled. Charles tosses back the too-long blonde hair that lies across his forehead and eagerly steps closer to me, offering the crook of his elbow.
I gather up the hem of my dress and we leave the relative safety of our car behind, Charles handing the keys to a palace valet. We hurry up the sweeping white marble stairs to the awe-inspiring set of carved golden doors, etched with the faces of regents who have gone before us. The doors are easily twenty feet wide and half as high, built not just for beauty but for strength against invasion in battles long-past.
Four liveried doormen bow and pull the doors open before us and we step into the antechamber. It’s just as I remembered, shining marble and gold, two stories high with twin staircases curving up each side.
“Welcome, Lady Katherine.”
“Darian!” I say. I glance around, making sure no one else is watching, lest I get Darian in trouble. Then I drop Charles’s arm and fling myself at the under butler. “It’s been too long!”
“You look wonderful, Lady Katherine. Five years is indeed too long.”
I grin at him and pull back.
“Mother misses you at Haverly Place, Darian. I’m sure you’re happier here in the King’s service, though.”
He doesn’t respond directly, but his lips twitch. As the butler at my family home for my whole childhood, Darian is so familiar to me that he can’t hide his amusement.