Kristi
A little after two a.m., the lock on my door scrapes. My nerves jangle. I can only imagine how worried Aunt Tammy must be. I’m sure she’s tried to call me a dozen times by now. But I have to focus on whoever is prying their way into my room.
I dive toward the pillow and wrap my fingers around Ridge’s Glock. I’ve never fired a gun in my life, and I don’t know if I can point it at another human being and pull the trigger. But I have to believe that if it’s a fight to the death, my survival instinct will prod me to do what otherwise makes me sick to even think about.
Around the corner from the entryway, I hear the door open. I’m shaking so hard, I’m sure I’ll tremble out of my skin.
“Red?”
Ridge. I let out a sigh of relief and dart across the room. “You’re back.”
“I told you I wouldn’t leave you for long. You’re stuck with me for fifty years. I brought you a present…” He steps aside.
Sammie stands in the shadowy hallway, trembling and crying but otherwise unharmed.
I stash the gun, then rush to the girl and crush her in my arms, soothing her with a soft hand down her back when she breaks into sobs. I can’t help joining in. “Are you all right?”
She gives me a jerky nod. “Okay. So far no one has messed with me much.”
I’m afraid to ask what that means, especially now. It isn’t the time. Instead, I turn my gaze to Ridge, standing beside me, and give him my silent thanks.
“Since the creep who tried to buy me is conked out, can we go?” Sammie asks Ridge.
“Conked out? Did you hit him over the head?” I can’t imagine Sammie having the strength to do that, but she’s got the fortitude.
“No.” Ridge shakes his head. “I took Sammie around to meet her ‘buyer’ and offered him a crystal-cut decanter of scotch as a welcome-to-the-perverts-club gift. I insisted we toast. Did I mention I’d drugged the booze? So he’s in dreamland. Same with Sal and Rudy. Then I walked her over here, telling the guards I wanted a little two-on-one action.”
“And they bought it. So we can go now?” Sammie asks again.
Ridge pulls at the back of his neck. “It’s not that simple. I’ve got a few more obstacles to clear first.”
“Like what?” I demand.
“How long will that take?” Sammie snaps.
“I’m trying, ladies. I’ve got a plan. I need a few more hours… For now, strip down to your underwear and get in bed.”
“What?” Sammie crosses her arms over her chest, looking totally betrayed.
What is Ridge thinking? Given the worry tightening his face, I doubt it’s sex. “Are we still being watched?”
“It’s possible. I don’t know exactly where Donzelli is right now. In case he’s finished with his…ahem, nightly entertainment and decides to check in on his empire, we have to make this look good. Sorry.” He pretends to snarl our way, then grabs Sammie by the arm, shoving her toward the bed. Then he thrusts his hands in my hair and drags his lips up my neck before nipping at my ear. It doesn’t exactly cool my desire. “Are we good?”
Sammie, bless her, looks rattled and huddles near me when Ridge releases me to undress. Too bad that after his lips skim my skin, I’m a weak-kneed mess.
“Are you really pregnant?” my cousin asks.
I glare at Ridge. “You told her?”
“I didn’t know how else to win her trust in less than two minutes.”
“Are you going to marry him?” Sammie follows up.
“I never said yes,” I remind Ridge.
He grips my hair again with a surprisingly gentle touch as he leans in with a growl. “You will.”
If we get out of here alive, he’s right. I probably will. But he’s already cocky enough. No need to add to his ego. “We’ll see.”
He huffs. “Strip down. In bed. Go.”
While Ridge makes a show of removing his coat and shirt, folding them over an old desk chair across the room, I take off everything except my bra and panties, shielding Sammie while she does the same.
“You don’t look pregnant,” she whispers to me. “Are you sure? And how did you get mixed up with this guy?”
“Long story.” One that started with champagne…and ended with a plus-sign on a home pregnancy test. I still don’t understand everything that’s going on in this sketchy hotel, but I’m convinced the man I’ve fallen for is trying to put a stop to it. That makes him one of the good guys, right? That’s not wishful thinking?
Finally, we undress down to our lacy bits, and I shoo Sammie under the covers before clearing my throat. “Ready.”
Ridge darkens his phone and sets it aside, along with my device and a wad of cash that nearly makes my eyes pop from their sockets. Then he flips off the overhead lights and crawls in bed beside me. “Good. Now ruffle the covers. Make it look like we’re…busy.”