The third book in the red-hot Kings of Sydney trilogy sees Ajax King kidnapping a rising crime lord’s daughter, Imogen White. His bargaining chip is her innocence, but when all Imogen wants is to feel the raw masculinity of the eldest King, Ajax is tempted to free her from her gilded cage for good...

Decades of being the eldest son of the biggest crime lord in Sydney doesn’t leave a man without scars, and mine run deep. Now I’ll do almost anything to destroy Sydney’s criminal underworld—even kidnap my enemy’s delectable daughter. Imogen White is pristine. Perfect. And if her father won’t leave Sydney for good, then I’ll take the one thing he prizes above all—and make her mine!

Only Imogen isn’t quite the innocent I thought. She wants to be freed from her gilded prison, and damn if she isn’t looking for a little carnal education in return. She’s primal incarnate. Just like me.

But I’m no knight in shining armour. I live cold and hard. I want nothing. I need nothing. The ends always justify the means...and no one—not even a sweet little spitfire like Imogen—will thaw the ice around my cold heart. No one.

Sexy. Passionate. Bold. Discover Harlequin DARE, a new line of fun, edgy and sexually explicit romances for the fearless female.

JACKIE ASHENDEN writes dark, emotional stories with alpha heroes whove just got the world to their liking only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, the inimitable Dr Jax, two kids and two rats. When shes not torturing alpha males and their gutsy heroines she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, wasting time on social media or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband. To keep up to date with Jackies new releases and other news sign up to her newsletter at jackieashenden.com.

King’s Ransom

Jackie Ashenden

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08689-9

KING’S RANSOM

© 2019 Jackie Ashenden

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

To the cat.

For absolutely no reason at all.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE
Ajax

I WAS TEN years old the first time I suspected my father was a criminal.

At thirteen he showed me the truth.

That’s when I decided I was going to take him down. But if you want to take down a man like Augustus King you have to do it right. You can’t leave anything behind. A crime empire is like a Hydra—cut off the head and twenty more sprout.

It took me nearly two decades to cut off every single head. Yet I did. And I put that prick in jail once and for all.

But surviving decades of being the oldest son of the biggest crime lord in Sydney doesn’t leave a man without scars, and mine ran deep.

That was okay, though. Scars were reminders of the big picture and my big picture involved keeping my brothers and my city safe. Staying vigilant for danger. Always on the lookout for threats.

Threats such as William goddamn White, my father’s enemy and the last head of the Hydra.

Dad had been in jail five years and I’d been legit ever since, running one of the fastest growing property development companies in Sydney, and, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t simply cut that head off the way I preferred. Not if I wanted to avoid jail myself.

No, I had to use other methods.

I leaned against the wall of the ballroom of one of Sydney’s top hotels, studying the glittering, couture-wearing crowd all gathered to celebrate the formation of a new charity.

I hadn’t been invited—no one would invite a King to a swanky charity ball like this one—but I’d shown up anyway and they’d been too afraid of me to turn me away.

The King past was something my two brothers and I were trying to overcome, but it came in handy at times. And I wasn’t above using it, especially when it came to driving home to the cream of Sydney society that the King brothers were up-and-coming and they couldn’t ignore us any more.

But that wasn’t the only reason I was here.

That other reason was sitting across the ballroom from me, at a table surrounded by goons in suits trying hard not to look like goons in suits and failing.

Miss Imogen White, William White’s daughter and the most guarded heiress in the entire city.

The chick was like Rapunzel in her tower—no one was getting inside. Both figuratively and literally. She was the apple of her father’s eye and he made sure she stayed pure and pristine, his perfect Princess.

Sadly for White, I was about to storm his daughter’s pretty little castle and sully the fuck out of it.

He’d managed somehow to stay out of the law’s reach following the collapse of Dad’s empire and he’d been waiting in the shadows ever since. Not drawing attention, quietly trying to resurrect Augustus King’s filthy legacy.

A legacy I was going to destroy once and for all.

That motherfucker was going down and I was going to use his daughter to do it.

I tilted my head, studying her as she sat on her chair, all alone apart from her goons.

Five foot nothing, long blonde hair the colour of pale corn silk. Big green eyes that watched the rest of the room and the people in it like they were a cage full of tigers and she was a goat tethered to a stake.

Interesting that her father had managed to get her an invite and that she was attending without him. Almost made me think that she was playing the part of a goat tethered to a stake.

Bait. To lure someone out.

Me, perhaps? But then, probably not. As far as White was concerned, I was too busy running King Enterprises, my property empire, to worry about him—an illusion I’d worked hard to cultivate to hide my real motivations.

Whosever bait she was, Imogen was pretty in her plain white cocktail frock. A perfect little doll. Pale and virginal and pure. Except not totally pure, not with the kind of sulky pink mouth that would look great wrapped around a man’s cock.

Yes, she was lovely, but she was also nothing but leverage.

Her father’s weapon that I was going to turn back on him, using her to ensure that whatever he was doing in those shadows, whatever plans he was hatching, he needed to stop immediately and get the hell out of Sydney.

Only then would I release his daughter.

And if he didn’t? I’d take that carefully guarded virginity of hers and make her mine. Because if there was one thing I knew about William White, it was that he’d rather slit his own throat than have a King touch his daughter.

Especially me. As far as he was concerned, I was still rough and brutal, still only a few steps away from the violence that had made me.

He wouldn’t want his daughter anywhere near me.

As plans went it wasn’t all that subtle, but I’d been searching for some legal way to take that bastard down and hadn’t managed to find anything I could use against him.

No, his daughter was it. My plan to protect everything I’d built.

Ten years ago, I could have headed over to her and slung her over my shoulder and no one would have stopped me. Even the police would have given me a wide berth—they didn’t want to mess with a King.

But it wasn’t ten years ago. It was now, and even though I’d never have considered using Dad’s kind of tactics—I was, after all, a different man—the stakes were too high to risk failure, which meant the end justified any means.

Such as kidnapping William White’s daughter from a ballroom full of people.

Oh, yeah, and not get caught.

I glanced away from the scaredy-cat Princess and looked towards the bar area of the ballroom. Sure enough, there was my younger brother Leon, along with his wife, Vita. They were commanding a lot of attention, which was the reason I’d demanded the pair of them attend the ball with me.

They could take the heat while I did my thing unnoticed.

Leon would be pissed if he knew what I was planning, especially given his own past, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. This was my idea and not telling him would allow all the responsibility to fall on me if it turned to shit.

The only person who’d get hurt here was William fucking White.

I shifted against the wall, checking on Imogen again.

She was sitting up so straight and still, her hands clasped in her lap, holding herself rigid, except for one little white-satin-covered foot that was tapping to the music that filtered through the ballroom. Then it stopped and she looked down at herself, colour staining her pale cheeks. As if she’d only just realised what she was doing and caught herself. As if tapping her foot to the music was a bad thing.

Another man might have felt sorry for her sitting there all by herself, not even able to enjoy the music. But I didn’t. I couldn’t afford to. She was a tool for me to use. That was all.

On the table near her was a glass of iced water that I’d paid one of the waiters to keep refilled. Eventually, given the amount of times she’d emptied the thing, she’d need to visit the bathroom and when she did...

Right on cue, she glanced at her bodyguards and slid off the chair, gesturing towards the exit to the bathrooms. One of them nodded and jerked his head at the man standing next to him, the two of them then falling into place behind her as she moved towards the exit.

Good.

Taking on five of them would be tricky, but two? Easy.

I stepped away from the wall and ducked out through a nearby doorway that led to the same corridor where the bathrooms were located, reaching the ladies’ bathroom in time to see her vanish into it. The two guards stationed themselves outside.

Giving them a minute or two, I took out the cap I had in the back pocket of my suit pants and put it on, pulling it down to hide my face, then I moved in for the kill.

I took them down as quickly and as quietly as possible then shoved their unconscious bodies into the empty men’s bathroom, pulling shut the door behind me and breaking the handle so they couldn’t get out.

That done, I moved over to the ladies’ and stepped inside.

Luckily it was empty, apart from White’s little Princess, standing at the bank of sinks opposite the door. She was in the process of washing her hands, her head bent.

I closed the door silently behind me and locked it for good measure, then I leaned back against it, watching her, waiting to see how long it would take her to notice me.

A good minute as it turned out.

She was humming something under her breath, a cheerful-sounding pop song, completely distracted. And it wasn’t until she’d dried her hands and had leaned forward to study her reflection that her gaze met mine in the mirror.

The humming stopped, her green eyes going big and filling with shock.

‘Don’t scream,’ I said calmly. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. However, I might change my mind if you try to call for help. Is that understood?’

Her eyes widened even further, her mouth in a soft pink O. But she gave a very slight nod to show me that she did, staring at me in the mirror all the while as if I was the devil himself.

I stared back.

Her skin was pale, like cream, and her eyelashes were tipped with gold. She had a conventional prettiness that was saved from being bland by that quite frankly carnal mouth and the delicate little mole sitting just above it.

There was an energy to her, an electricity that reminded me of a live wire about to spit sparks.

Somewhere deep inside me, interest tightened.

What would it feel like to put my hands on her and touch that electricity for myself? Would it shock the dead parts of me back to life?

Shit, touching her wasn’t the point of the kidnapping, no matter the threat I was going to deliver to her father. Besides, pure princesses—live wires or not—had never been my type. I liked a woman who knew her way around a man’s cock and who didn’t mind getting rough with it, not a wide-eyed virgin like this one.

I dismissed the thoughts. Right now, getting her out of here with the minimum of fuss was my priority.

‘W-where are my bodyguards?’ Her voice was clear with an inexplicably sexy roughness to it.

‘I dealt with them.’ I stepped away from the doorframe and straightened to my full height, her gaze following every move I made.

The shock had begun to drain from her pale face, leaving behind it an expression I didn’t recognise. ‘Both of them?’ She sounded incredulous, as if I’d done something incredibly difficult.

‘Yes. They’re in the men’s room with the door locked.’ I took a step towards her. ‘They’re not coming to save you, little one.’

She didn’t move. ‘You’re Ajax King.’

‘You’ve heard of me.’ I took another step.

‘Of course. My dad hates you.’

‘The feeling’s mutual.’ I was close now, standing right behind her, watching her face in the mirror.

Her lashes lowered. Then she turned around, her head tipping back, looking straight up at me.

She was very small, the top of her head barely reaching my shoulders, and the pale skin of her cheeks had gone pink, deepening the vivid green of her eyes. They were glowing. They were full-on fucking glowing.

Maybe that’s when I recognised her expression, the one that wasn’t fear or shock or anger, or any of the other emotions I’d expected when I’d first stepped inside.

No. What I saw in her face was unconcealed awe.

Not the reaction I normally got. People were either afraid of me or they loathed me. But not this green-eyed virginal Princess. She looked at me like I was the second coming of Christ.

For some reason, my cock liked that very much indeed.

Fuck. That was all I needed. Desire wasn’t supposed to be part of this plan and I didn’t want it to be. The goal was protecting my city and my brothers, not screwing a wide-eyed little ingénue.

Ignoring my disreputable dick, I gave her the stare I usually gave to those who thought they could argue with my decisions. ‘Okay, here’s the deal,’ I began. ‘You’re going to need to—’

‘Why are you here?’

I blinked at her interruption. Another thing that people knew better than to do. ‘What?’

‘I mean, why are you here? In the women’s bathroom?’

‘Well, I—’

‘You do know it’s the women’s bathroom, don’t you?’

‘Yeah, I know it’s the—’

‘Are you here for me?’

I gritted my teeth. ‘You’re going to have to stop interrupting me.’

A line appeared between her pale silky brows, the electric energy of her intensifying somehow. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just really need to know.’

Hell, what was I doing, standing here letting her pepper me with pointless questions? I was supposed to be kidnapping her, for fuck’s sake.

‘Yeah,’ I growled, taking another step closer, looming over her, hoping she’d get the idea she was supposed to be scared and not keep looking at me like I was Captain fucking America. ‘I’m here for you.’

Her eyes glowed even more and she’d gone even pinker, as if I was the man of her dreams and I’d just asked her out.

‘Don’t look so fucking pleased,’ I said harshly. ‘I’m not asking you to dance. I’m here to kidnap you.’

That gorgeous mouth of hers dropped open. ‘Kidnap me?’ she echoed, looking astonished. Then, before I could speak, she grinned. ‘Oh, my God, that’s excellent!’

CHAPTER TWO
Imogen

‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN, “excellent”?’ Ajax King’s mesmerising blue eyes had narrowed into shards of ice and there was offence in his deep, rough voice.

Weird. You’d have thought he’d be happy that I wanted to go with him without making a screaming fuss.

Obviously not.

Then again, I didn’t have time to be thinking about whether he’d be offended or not. All I was conscious of was finally—freaking finally!—here was the opportunity I’d been searching more than two years for.

The opportunity to get away from my bloody father.

My shuddering heartbeat was going hell for leather, adrenaline pulsing through me.

‘There’s no time,’ I said hurriedly, tilting my head to the side so I could see past his massive, broad figure to the door. ‘Dad’s other guys will notice I haven’t come back and they’ll come after me. So if we’re going to leave, we have to leave now.’

‘Now wait just a fucking minute—’

But I had no fucking minutes to waste.

I reached for his hand and pulled him over to the door. Or at least I tried to. Bit difficult when he wouldn’t let himself be pulled.

Dammit.

I turned back, fear beginning to thread through my excitement. ‘Please. If you’re going to kidnap me then you have to do it now. Come on!’ I tugged on his hand again.

He didn’t move, only pinned me with those icy blue eyes. ‘You actually want me to kidnap you?’

Seriously? He was asking me stupid questions now?

‘Would I be asking you to do it if I didn’t want you to?’ I pulled on his hand yet again. ‘Come on.’

But it was like trying to pull on a mountain. The damn man wouldn’t budge.

Fear tightened inside me. If we didn’t leave now the rest of my bodyguards were going to come looking and they’d find me. And then they’d try to stop me, and my chance of escape would be gone.

I’d be back to living in my gilded cage, where I couldn’t move a muscle without five guards springing into action. Where I had to watch my behaviour so assiduously that it was easier to stay in than go out. It was a cage I hadn’t noticed get smaller and smaller as the years progressed. Not until the day I’d realised exactly what kind of man my father was and that if I stayed in the cage any longer I was going to get crushed.

I’d go back to being powerless. Back to being used. Back to being so lonely it made my soul ache.

No, I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t.

Right here was my opportunity to escape and I was taking it.

Ajax King was my father’s greatest enemy so who better to help me? He’d been watching me all evening—I’d noticed since I’d nothing else to do—and now I knew why.

It couldn’t have been more perfect.

Right then, someone knocked on the door and I froze, fear an iceberg floating in the centre of my chest.

‘Miss White?’ a male voice asked. ‘Are you in there?’

Shit. It was Colin, one of my guards.

I turned back to Ajax, standing near the vanity unit, so tall his head almost brushed the ceiling. He stared at me from underneath the cap he wore, his expression impassive. His rough features were intensely compelling. A sharp, hard jaw and strong blade of a nose. High cheekbones. Those deep set, amazing blue eyes. Not typically handsome. Very, very masculine, and the look he was giving me...

I felt an odd flash of something. A crackle over my skin, like electricity. It was unexpected and strange so I ignored it, too worried about what he was going to do to pay attention to it.

Would he change his mind? Give me back to them?

I swallowed, my mouth dry, and I gave him a pleading look. Please help me. Please.

‘Miss White?’ Colin asked again, sharper this time. ‘Are you in there?’

Ajax shot a glance at the door then back at me.

Then suddenly he pulled me towards him so I was only inches away from his massive, muscular figure. He lowered his head, his mouth near my ear. ‘Do as I say,’ he murmured. ‘And I’ll get you out of here.’

I blinked at the wall of white cotton in front of me. I hadn’t been this close to a man in years. Possibly I hadn’t been this close to a man ever.

It was weird. He was very, very warm and he smelled good. A spicy, woody scent that for some reason made the iceberg in my chest start to melt and calmed my rising panic.

‘Now, put your arms out. And don’t say a word.’

His breath on my skin made goosebumps rise along my neck and shoulders, that crackling sensation getting more intense.

I didn’t have time to think about it so I put my arms out obediently. Quickly, he shrugged out of his black suit jacket and, before I could figure out what he was going to do with it, he’d put it on me.

Nearly forgetting that I wasn’t supposed to speak, I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing. But he whipped the cap off his head and put it on mine, then, with surprising skill for a guy, he coiled my hair up underneath so it wasn’t showing.

I blinked up at him. Way, way up at him.

His eyes were the most incredible blue. The pupils had a dark ring of midnight around them before lightening up towards the iris, a shade that was exactly the same as the sky on a perfect winter’s day. They were made even more noticeable by the straight black brows and thick black lashes that framed them.

My heart gave a weird thump.

I didn’t know much about him, only that my father hated his guts because Dad and Augustus King had been rivals until Augustus had finally gone to jail. Dad had been hoping that once Augustus had gone he’d be able to grab what was left of his empire and take it for himself—he was nothing if not opportunistic.

But apparently Ajax King kept getting in the way.

Maybe that was why I hadn’t screamed when Ajax had appeared in the bathroom. Why I’d believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt me.

He might have once been the heir to the biggest crime empire in Sydney, but he wasn’t now and any enemy of my father was a friend of mine.

Of course, I hadn’t been thinking straight when he’d appeared in the doorway and clearly I wasn’t thinking straight now if all it took to make my heart thump was one look into his eyes.

Forgetting that I’d promised not to speak, I opened my mouth to ask him what was going on but, before I could, he bent and picked me up in his arms.

My stomach dropped away, the world lurching around me; every question I’d been going to ask vanished from my head.

I’d never been held by a man. Couldn’t remember the last time I’d been held, full stop.

Had it been this hot? Because that’s all I was conscious of. An intense, stunning heat surrounding me. From the hard torso I was lying against and the strong arms locked around me. It made something restless and antsy inside me go utterly still.

I caught my breath.

‘Hide your face against my chest,’ Ajax murmured before heading straight to the door.

My brain didn’t seem able to process the instruction. Hide my face? Why? And what was he doing? Didn’t he know that—

There was a sudden crash as he kicked the door open and I caught one glimpse of Colin and the other guy—a new guard whose name I could never remember—and instinctively I turned away, hiding my face against Ajax’s broad chest, just like he’d told me to.

The cotton of his shirt had been warmed by the hot skin beneath it and his scent filled my senses. Sandalwood, maybe, and...cedar? I’d taught myself about perfumes once and remembered the scents. Anyway, it was amazing. I pressed my cheek against the fabric, feeling firm muscle beneath it, and inhaled, the smell of him going straight to my head.

‘What?’ Ajax demanded, his deep voice making his chest vibrate against my cheek. ‘Get the fuck out of my way.’

Silence.

I should have been paying attention to what was happening, but being in his arms was way too distracting.

The warmth of his body was soaking through the stupid white cocktail frock Dad had insisted I wear tonight, and I was conscious of how hard he was. Like he’d been carved out of rock, not muscle and bone.

The restless thing inside me had curled up and gone to sleep, as if it felt safe. As if it knew that he would protect me if anything went wrong, which was strange since I knew that men in general weren’t particularly safe to be around.

‘We’re looking for Miss Imogen White,’ Colin was saying. ‘She was in the—’

‘Don’t know, don’t give a fuck,’ Ajax said casually, continuing to walk with me in his arms down the corridor. ‘Go check the damn bathroom yourself. There’s no one in there now.’

‘But you must have—’

‘If you hadn’t noticed, I’m busy.’

There was more silence after that and, given that Ajax hadn’t stopped, it must have meant my guards hadn’t realised it was me in his arms. The suit jacket and cap now made sense; he’d been trying to hide my identity.

I’d relaxed totally against him, but curiosity stole through me and I began to turn my head, only to have him say gruffly, ‘Keep your head where it is. We’re not out of the building yet.’

I nodded and closed my eyes, inhaling warmth and spice and the faint smell of laundry powder from his shirt. His heart was beating beneath my ear and I could hear the rhythm of it, steady and strong and sure.

Like him.

Odd thing to think about a man I’d only just met and didn’t know. Maybe I was drunk. Maybe I was high. On him and his magical scent. Whatever, I accepted the thought without protest.

Not that it mattered. He could have been Jack the Ripper and I would have been okay with it if he could get me out of the building without being seen.

The thought of freedom being so close made excitement surge through me and if I hadn’t been held so securely in his arms I would have wriggled.

Keeping still was something I found difficult at the best of times, but most especially when I was excited or angry or sad.

A fidgety chatterbox, all the nannies had said about me.

A mess, said my father, looking at me with the disapproval that used to cut me so badly when I was a kid and longing for his attention.

My mother had died when I was born and if she hadn’t, things would have been different. Dad would have been different. But she had and he wasn’t, and all I remember wanting was his love.

He didn’t like my insatiable curiosity or the way I couldn’t stop moving. I used to try to stay still, to not piss him off by jogging my leg or humming or asking questions, or any of the other things I did that irritated him, but it had always been a constant battle.

But it wasn’t until I was eighteen that my inability to check myself had consequences. Terrible consequences.

Since then I’d tried to stay in the box Dad had put me in, but the fight against my restless nature was never-ending and quite frankly exhausting.

I didn’t feel exhausted now, though. Now I could have lain quiet and still in Ajax’s arms all day.

I rubbed my cheek absently against the cotton of his shirt, wanting to get closer to him, and he made a growling sound. ‘Fuck’s sake, don’t move until I tell you. Your hair will come down and people will see it and they’ll guess who you are.’

I stilled obediently. ‘Who do they think I am now then?’

‘Some girl I’m carrying back to my cave to screw.’

The words travelled down my spine like an electric shock. ‘Really? Do you often carry girls out of balls to screw?’

‘You can stop talking now.’

‘But what about—’

‘Quiet.’

There was a note of deep authority in his voice that calmed me, not that I needed extra calming right now. I was so calm I was nearly catatonic, lulled by his heat and the feeling of being held gently and carefully. As if I was something precious he didn’t want to drop.

A large group of people passed by us, their conversation loud, and then cooler air brushed against my bare legs, the glare of neon and streetlights illuminating the white of Ajax’s shirt.

We must be outside.

It felt like we were walking down some steps and I could hear cars.

Regret gripped me. Being outside meant he was going to put me down and I would lose his heat and that blissful sense of peace.

I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay here, in his arms, against his hard chest, listening to the certainty of his heartbeat.

There was the sound of a car door opening and his arms were loosening, and sure enough I was being let go and bundled into the back of a featureless black van.

‘Go,’ Ajax ordered the driver as he climbed in behind me, slamming the door closed. Then he pushed me down onto one of the bench seats, grabbed a seat belt and buckled me in as the van took off in a screech of tyres.

I clutched the seat belt as the van lurched, while Ajax sat down himself and did his own belt up.

The warmth that had held me so safe and still was seeping away, making me feel cold, the restless part of me stirring to life again.

‘Please tell me that’s it.’ I stared out the window as the building receded behind us, my heart racing, waiting for my guards to come spilling out. ‘Please tell me they’re not going to come after us.’

‘Oh, they might come after us,’ Ajax replied with infuriating calm. ‘But locating us is going to be a different matter.’

I turned to find his gaze on mine, satisfaction gleaming in his icy blue eyes.

My breath caught again.

He was sitting in a casual, arrogant sprawl, long legs outstretched, the material of his shirt pulled tight across his muscled shoulders and chest, as if he didn’t care that he was taking up as much room as possible. As if he was expecting me to move if I didn’t like it, but he certainly wasn’t going to.

He was like a king on his throne, staring at me as if I was a new country he’d just conquered.

Through the remains of the warmth left over from his touch, a shiver shot through me.

And all of a sudden it crashed down on me what had just happened and what it meant.

I was free of my father, but I wasn’t free. Not when I’d been kidnapped by Sydney’s baddest billionaire.

And I had no idea what he was going to do with me.

CHAPTER THREE
Ajax

I SAW THE moment the realisation hit her. The realisation of exactly what she’d got herself into. And, for the first time, wariness crept into her gaze.

It wasn’t fear, but I’d take wariness and about fucking time.

She’d been curled up in my arms, all warm and soft, relaxing as if I was her own personal hero all set to save her. And that shit wasn’t happening. Not when I wasn’t anyone’s goddamn hero.

Especially not when all I could think about was that tempting mouth of hers with that fascinating little mole just above her top lip. I wanted to kiss it. I wanted to lick it. I wanted to bite her bottom lip then suck gently on it, watch it get even redder and fuller than it was already.

Not that I would. She might be proving to be unexpectedly tempting, but I had a plan and I wasn’t going to deviate from it. Not when her continued virginity was such an important part.

She stared at me, that mesmerising energy she threw off still crackling all around her.

It was good that she was wary. Because I was dangerous.

Everyone treated me with caution, the more nervous giving me a wide berth. It was a reputation I cultivated because if there was one thing Dad had taught me, it was that fear kept people in line better than being nice ever did.

And people had to fear me. I didn’t want another Augustus King rising in this city and fear of what I might do to any pretenders to Dad’s empty throne kept the more ambitious at bay.

‘So,’ Imogen said, her long delicate fingers clutching at her seat belt. ‘This is fun.’ Then she had the gall to smile—a bit uncertain but a smile nonetheless. ‘Do I get to know where you’re taking me? And what you want with me? What about Dad? Won’t he be—’

I put a finger across her velvety pink mouth, silencing her, purely because I could.

Her eyes widened.

She looked ridiculously cute swamped by my jacket, with the cap pulled down over her pale hair, staring at me with those big green eyes.

I could still feel the imprint of her in my arms, the warmth of her body nestled against my chest. She’d rested there so quietly, yet I’d felt that live wire quality to her, a subtle vibration that had somehow crawled under my skin and stayed there. It made me think that she wasn’t the fragile little thing she’d first seemed. Certainly, when she’d pulled at my hand back up there in the bathroom, there had been a surprising strength to her grip. And even now, after I’d kidnapped her, I could see a glimmer of determination beneath the wariness in her gaze.

Curiosity flickered into life inside me, smouldering alongside the undeniable physical attraction. But I crushed both. Hard. She was a tool, a means to an end, and I couldn’t afford any distractions, not now.

‘We’re going to my house.’ I let my finger linger on her lips a fraction, to show her I meant business. Nothing to do with how soft they felt. ‘And I’m going to keep you there a little while.’

Her mouth turned up, giving me a smile that had no hesitancy in it whatsoever, the wariness draining from her clear gaze.

And for a second I didn’t quite know what to do with that. I was her father’s mortal enemy. She had to know who I was—what I was. She should be cringing in fear, not giving me bright smiles like I was her best friend.

‘Yay.’ Her lips moved against my finger, brushing against my skin, the warmth of her breath making me catch mine. ‘I was hoping you’d say that. Where do you live?’

Yay? What the fuck? And why the hell was I breathless? Luckily, physical attraction was the easiest appetite to control so I controlled it.

I dropped my finger. ‘That doesn’t concern you right—’

‘What kind of house do you have? Does it have a pool? Is it by the sea?’

‘It’s not—’

‘Can I go outside? Does it have a view?’

‘You’re not going to—’

‘How long can I stay? Will you be there?’ Her eyes were glittering with excitement and there was a flush in her pale cheeks, the live wire spitting sparks.

You’d think I’d just promised her the trip of a lifetime, not that I was going to hold her prisoner until her father did what I wanted.

Losing patience, I stared hard at her. ‘Interrupt me again and there’ll be hell to pay.’

Her lips pressed together obediently, but her eyes didn’t lose that excited sparkle. She didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed of herself. ‘I’m sorry. I always talk when I’m nervous.’ Then, clearly picking up on my irritation, she added, ‘I didn’t interrupt this time.’

‘This is a kidnapping. You do understand that, don’t you?’

She laughed. ‘I know. And?’

Laughing. She’d been kidnapped and now she was laughing. And, even worse, the husky, joyful sound sent a hot pulse down my spine, jump-starting something inside me. Something that had been dead a long time.

Shit. Just what I didn’t want.

I ignored the feeling and scowled. ‘You should be frightened of me.’

An arrested expression crossed her face, as if the thought had never occurred to her. ‘Should I? I mean, I was a bit unsure a moment ago. But...’ Her forehead creased. ‘Do you want me to be?’

The thing that had sprung to life inside me burned, her complete lack of fear for some reason more powerful than any aphrodisiac.

Dammit. I wasn’t looking to be attracted to her, for fuck’s sake. That kind of shit only got in the way and I was not looking for distractions right now. Not that I ever had. My own desires were irrelevant when I had a goal in mind and I let nothing distract me from that goal.

Including the bolt of electricity in human form sitting next to me.

I fixed her with a ‘don’t fuck with me’ look. ‘Anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?’

The colour in her cheeks deepened. ‘Kind of.’

‘Listen. You know who I am. You must have heard the rumours. They’re all true, understand? And yes, you should be scared. Because you have no idea what I’m going to do with you when I get you home.’

‘What are you going to do with me?’ She didn’t sound as if it worried her. At all.

Christ. If ever a woman needed a lesson in proper kidnapping etiquette, it was this one.

I leaned forward fractionally, letting my physical size intimidate her. ‘I’m going to ruin you, little one. That’s what I’m going to do.’

Or at least I would if her father didn’t do what I wanted.

Far from being intimidated, though, Imogen only frowned. As if I’d handed her a fascinating puzzle to work out. ‘Ruin me? Like...how?’

This was ridiculous. Did I really have to explain a sexual threat?

‘Like this...’ I reached out again and this time I brushed my thumb along her lower lip to illustrate my point, because the day I had to explain myself was the day I’d hand in my scary motherfucker badge.

Her mouth was just as soft and warm as it had been when I’d touched it not a minute or so earlier, and the burning thing in my gut flamed like a fucking firework.

Mistake. You shouldn’t touch her.

Bullshit. I didn’t make mistakes and I wasn’t a damn fifteen-year-old boy touching a woman for the first time. I could control myself. She had a pretty mouth but that was all. Pretty mouths were a dime a dozen and if I wanted one that badly, I’d find one. Later.

Her eyes went huge as I touched her. ‘Oh...’ The word was warm, exhaled against my skin. ‘That kind of ruin.’

So she understood. Good.

Yet she still didn’t look scared. Wary, yes, but there was definitely no fear in her expression.

Hell. What did I have to do? Pull a gun? A knife? A fucking bomb?

‘So how exactly do you ruin someone sexually these days?’ she went on, her eyes alight with interest. ‘It’s a bit nineteenth century, if you know what I mean. Virginity isn’t the big thing it used to be.’

‘That’s it?’ I dropped my finger from her mouth, ignoring the warmth that lingered on my skin. ‘That’s your response?’

‘Should it be different?’ A crease appeared between her brows. ‘If you’re going to ruin me or whatever—’ she waved her hand as if the ‘whatever’ was negligible and not the threat it very much was ‘—I’d like to know how you’re going to do it. Seeing as how I have a vested interest and all.’

‘Screwing you, that’s how I’ll do it,’ I growled, my patience starting to run even thinner than it was already, hoping that would quell her.

‘Oh, sure.’ She shrugged, very much unquelled. ‘Screwing goes without saying. But I’d still like to know how that ruins me.’

Shit, this woman was either simple or...she was playing me.

I was beginning to suspect it was the latter and if that was the case, she’d regret it. I could play that game better than she ever could.

‘You’re a virgin—’

‘Hey, how do you know that?’

‘Interrupt me one more time and I’ll give you back to your father’s men.’

Her mouth closed up tight. Interesting. She really didn’t want to go back. I filed that fact away for future reference.

‘As I was saying,’ I went on. ‘You’re a virgin and your father has been guarding that very jealously for a long time. You may not think it’s important, but it is for him because if he wants to make alliances with potential friends, he’s going to use you and your pretty hymen to do it. But how will that work when his virginal daughter has been in the hands of his enemy? Make no mistake. The ruin I’m talking about will make you mine and mine completely, and once you’re mine you’ll be useless to anyone else, including him.’

Emotion shifted in her eyes, gone so fast I wasn’t sure what it was. Not fear, something more complicated than that.

This girl seemed open and sincere, but maybe she wasn’t. Maybe there was more to her than there appeared.

The curiosity I thought I’d crushed earlier smouldered back into life, making me want to know exactly what more there was.

I’d always enjoyed a complicated woman—I was a man who got bored easily—and I hadn’t had complicated for longer than I cared to remember.

But no. This wasn’t about what I wanted and never had been.

Imogen took a soft breath, the fabric of her strapless white dress pulling tight across a pair of quite frankly beautiful little tits. The dress moulded to her generous hips too, outlining her rounded thighs.

Nice. Very nice. Not usually my type—tall, athletic women handled me better than small kittens like this one. But she was soft and strokeable, and undeniably sexy. What would she be like in bed?

Fucking wildfire.

Another pulse of heat burned through me, making my cock twitch.

‘So what does that mean exactly?’ She frowned. ‘Am I a threat or a tool for you?’

‘Both.’ I ignored the heat in my groin. ‘I want your father to leave Sydney. Only when he’s gone will I let you go.’

She glanced down at where her hands clutched at her seat belt, a lock of pale hair falling out from underneath the cap I’d put on her head and down over her shoulder. It gleamed like watered silk in the light coming through the windows. Pretty.

What would it feel like coiled around your finger?

Nothing. Because I wasn’t going to touch it.

‘That still doesn’t really explain this ruin thing,’ she said. ‘And you haven’t said what it involves exactly.’

‘What do you want? A fucking diagram?’

A flash of green glinted from underneath her pale lashes. ‘Actually, that would be super helpful. Especially since I don’t know anything about fucking.’

The heat I was trying to ignore burned a little hotter. Was she...flirting with me? Toying with me? If so, she was playing a dangerous game.

This wasn’t a date and I wasn’t some harmless boy desperate to kiss her hand. I was the oldest and most feared son of one of Sydney’s worst criminals, and I had things in my past that would wipe that expression off her face. That would make her look at me as if I was the devil himself.

Maybe it was time she learned that this wasn’t a fun night out and that I wasn’t some tame house cat she could stroke, who’d curl up in her lap. I was a wolf and I’d eat this Red Riding Hood alive.

‘You really want to know?’ I leaned right into her space, getting a kick out of the way she had to press herself against the window to keep the distance between us. ‘Are you sure?’

Her eyes went wide, her sulky, pouty mouth opening. And for a second I thought I saw fear there, but then it was gone and something else glittered in the green depths of her gaze.

Yet more excitement.

Shit.

‘Seriously, I am so sure.’ Her voice was on the edge of husky. ‘Tell me, Ajax. I’d really like to know how you’re going to ruin me.’

CHAPTER FOUR
Imogen

HE WAS VERY CLOSE, inches away. His broad shoulders blocked out the streetlights coming through the opposite window of the van, his body in that pristine white shirt and black suit trousers, a hard wall of muscle in front of me.

And his eyes. Electric blue, so vivid against his olive skin. Fascinating in a way I couldn’t describe.

He was so compelling. He made my heart shudder behind my ribs for reasons I didn’t understand.

This talk of being ruined... It was all I could think about.

Since I’d been taught at home by tutors, I’d never gone to high school, never dated. I’d never had a teenage crush, except once, on a guy I’d seen through the window of the car while I was on my way somewhere. I’d constructed a whole set of dreamy fantasies around him for at least a week until I’d lost interest in the whole idea.

If I’d had any girlfriends I’d have discussed my lack of a sex life with them. But I didn’t even have girlfriends.

What I did have, though, was an insatiable curiosity about pretty much everything, including all the things I wasn’t allowed to have.

Such as sex.

I’d learned how to get around the blocks Dad had put on my Internet years ago and I’d looked stuff up. Sexy stuff. Enough to have an idea of what I might like when it came to men.

One thing I hadn’t realised, though, was that looking at sex on a computer screen was very different to having an actual man right in front of you, looking at you so intently it made you want to burst into flames.

Like me, right now, with him.

‘S-so,’ I stuttered, unable to keep quiet, my heart racing. ‘You know, how does it happen? Do I have to take my clothes off? Do you touch me or—’

‘I don’t have to touch you to ruin you, little one,’ he said in that dark, deep voice I felt right down low inside me.

Okay, wow. That was...intense.

My heartbeat ratcheted up another notch. ‘That’s a bit patronising, you know. The whole little one thing.’

God knows why I was arguing with him. Probably stupid given my situation and the fact that me not being afraid of him clearly annoyed him.

But too bad. I wasn’t afraid. He might think that all of this would frighten me, but what he didn’t understand was that I didn’t see this as a kidnapping. No, this was a rescue.

He’d bloody well saved me.

And, for all his talk of ruining me, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. Not a man who’d carried me so gently; close to his chest; holding me as if I were precious.

He was scowling now, not liking that I was arguing, and maybe I was completely crazy but I loved how growly and fierce he was, though I didn’t really know why. Maybe it was simply the fact that I could get a reaction from him. Me. The sheltered virgin who could never sit still. Who was of no use to anyone except as a tool.

You’re Ajax’s tool now.

Yeah, but it felt different somehow. For a start, Ajax was a complete stranger. Unlike my dad, he wasn’t supposed to love me and I wasn’t supposed to love him. I could push back at him with impunity and it wouldn’t matter.

‘I don’t give a shit whether it’s patronising or not,’ he said. ‘You’re my prisoner and I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want.’ He paused, his gaze like a searchlight finding all my secrets, all my hidden desires. ‘Besides,’ he added, ‘I think you like it.’

I went red. Sadly, I did like it. I’d never had anyone refer to me as anything but Imogen and being called little one made me think of being curled up in his arms, safe.

Not knowing what to say, I frowned instead.

He smiled, all satisfied like he’d won a point off me. ‘Of course you do. But that’s not what you wanted to talk about, is it?’

‘You were going to tell me how you can ruin me without touching me,’ I reminded him. ‘How does that work? Is it possible to screw someone without touching them? Do you just talk at me? I mean, maybe I don’t know how these things go, but—’

He leaned forward even more, making the rest of what I’d been going to say catch in my throat.

The glass of the window was cold against the back of my head, the door handle jabbing my spine painfully. Yet those sensations seemed quite distant, even irrelevant.

There was only Ajax and his electrifying blue gaze.

‘It’s very simple.’ His voice brushed over my skin like soft black fur. ‘First I’d get you to lift up your dress. Then I’d tell you to spread your legs and pull your knickers to the side.’ The words became even deeper, even rougher. ‘Then I’d get you to slide your fingers over your pussy, rubbing that little clit in exactly the way I tell you to, and not stopping until you come. Hard. While I watch.’

All my breath had vanished, my heartbeat out of control. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his. My cheeks had to be scarlet and there was a definite pressure between my thighs. A pulse. An ache.

Those things he said were shocking and yet...they made me hot and restless and I...wanted to do them.

Except I had a suspicion that he hadn’t said them to get me off. He’d said them to frighten me.

Unfortunately for him, fear was the last thing I felt right now.

And it hit me in that moment that Ajax King wasn’t a choice my father would ever have made for me. It was why I’d been at that stupid ball in the first place, to meet a guy that Dad had decided might be a potential ally. To charm him, be the bait in the honey trap Dad had set up.

Ajax telling me that Dad was using me wasn’t anything I didn’t know. I’d figured out what my purpose was for Dad after what had happened with Cam, and it wasn’t simply to be his treasured daughter.

I was the Princess, the prize he’d use to set various people off against each other, and whom he’d award to whoever was the strongest.

It was like a medieval marriage bargain, where I got no say and my feelings on the subject were irrelevant.

Dad didn’t care whether I wanted to be used like that or not. The only aspect of me he cared about was the debt I owed him for being the cause of Mum’s death.

A debt I had no choice but to try and repay, even though it wasn’t my fault.

But I had a choice now.

I could try and escape, or I could choose to be ruined by Ajax King, Dad’s most hated enemy.

Dad would be so pissed.

It was perfect.

‘Okay,’ I said thickly. ‘Do you want me to do those things now? Or should I wait till we get to your place?’

He blinked. Rapidly. ‘You did hear what I said, didn’t you?’

‘Uh, yeah. A bit difficult not to hear, to be honest.’

‘And you understood what I wanted you to do?’

‘Of course. I’m not stupid.’ I swallowed, my throat dry. Oh, I wanted to touch him. Feel that hard chest I’d been held against, test all that delicious muscle with my hands.

I had a whole folder of hot guys on my computer at home, inspiration pics for when I got too lonely. But having the reality right in front me...

He was so intent, studying me as if he’d never seen anything like me in all his life. ‘This doesn’t frighten you at all, does it?’

‘No,’ I said honestly. ‘I’m sorry, but it doesn’t.’

His straight black brows drew down. ‘Why not? It should.’

‘Well, it might if I didn’t want to do it. But...’ I stopped, belatedly self-conscious about what I was admitting to. I was attracted to him, but he might not feel the same way about me. After all, he didn’t know me from a bar of soap. ‘It’s okay, you know,’ I went on in a rush. ‘You don’t have to ruin me if you don’t want to. I mean, you might not actually want me and I don’t have any experience and—’

‘Quiet,’ Ajax said for the second time that night, the note of authority in his voice making me fall silent. ‘You really have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. If you think playing with a man like me is a good—’

‘Playing with you?’ I interrupted yet again, shocked. ‘I’m not playing with you. I just don’t know—’

Ajax took my chin in one hand, his thumb silencing me the way he had earlier. And, just like earlier, I swear I could feel every single whorl of his thumbprint on my lips. As if I were a lock and he the only key.

‘Listen,’ he said quietly. ‘First, you need to shut up and do as you’re told. Second, I’m not ruining anyone in the back of a bloody van. I’m not fifteen any more. And third, if you think I don’t want you then you’re very much mistaken.’

I ignored everything he said but the last part.

He did want me.

I shouldn’t have done it but, next thing I knew, my hands had let go of their death grip on my seat belt and were reaching out for him, my lips parting so I could taste his thumb pressed against them, the flavour of his skin salty and sharp on my tongue.

My fingertips made contact, pressing against his chest. So warm, so hard...

Ajax made a sound and I felt the vibration of it in my fingertips. And I looked and saw flames. Blue flames.

‘Little virgin.’ His voice was very soft. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

Oh...

I looked at my hands on his chest, the heat of him burning through my fingertips. Perhaps touching him had been a mistake.

Damn. I’d been trying so hard to modify my behaviour and not simply do the first thing that came into my head. I was supposed to think things through, restrain myself, because I knew what happened when I didn’t. I’d seen the consequences. And they were terrible.

My cheeks were burning as I snatched my hands away, a combination of shame and embarrassment gripping me. ‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered against his thumb. ‘I didn’t mean to. I just...wanted to t-touch you.’

His grip on my chin tightened.

And, before I knew what was happening, his head bent, his mouth brushing lightly over mine.

I’d never been kissed on the lips before, and for a second my brain simply ceased to function. There was softness, a fleeting pressure and heat. Lots and lots of heat.

A current of electricity crackled over my skin, goosebumps following along in its wake, and my hands were lifting once again, reaching for him, but he was gone, my fingers closing on empty air.

Panting, I realised that the sudden darkness meant my eyes were closed, so I opened them to find his wintry blue gaze staring into mine.

‘You kissed me,’ I said stupidly. ‘Why?’

His beautiful mouth quirked. ‘How else was I going to shut you up?’

‘I wasn’t—’

‘And to get a taste of what we’re working with here.’

I couldn’t think. What was he talking about? ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Of course you don’t.’ That quirk became a smile, satisfied and somehow very male. ‘But you’ll find out.’

‘What do you mean?’

He didn’t answer. He merely straightened up and sat back in his seat, getting out his phone and looking down at the screen.

Dismissing me.

A million questions swarmed but, perhaps for the first time in my life, it was easy to stay quiet. Because I could still feel that kiss, the imprint of his lips on mine, tingling, burning...

I’d only known him half an hour. God.

Turning away, I stared sightlessly out the window of the van at the neon of the city outside, not even thinking about how cool it was that I was out without an entourage, on my own for the first time in my life.

Out from under my father’s thumb.

My own woman at last.

No, all I could think about was Ajax bloody King and that kiss.

And, for the second time that night, I wondered if maybe I was in way over my head.

CHAPTER FIVE
Ajax

I SAT BACK in my chair on the big stone terrace that looked out over the sea, nursing an espresso. The sun was warm on my face, the ocean busy throwing itself against the rocks below the house I’d claimed after Dad had gone to jail.

Last night I’d shown Imogen to the bedroom I’d set aside for her and she’d gone quietly, without peppering me with any more questions.

Satisfied she was secure for the night, I’d then sent texts to my two brothers, telling them that I wouldn’t be around for a week or so and that they were to handle any emergencies that might crop up.

Luckily their personal lives had settled down recently with two lovely women keeping them on the straight and narrow. God knows it was about time someone other than me stayed on top of things, and I was appreciative.

It certainly helped me now when I had to concentrate all my attention on a lovely woman of my own.

A strangely fascinating young woman, who was not in any way what I’d anticipated.

The virgin part, yes. The questions and the excitement and the sheer vibrating energy of her, not so much.

I hoped that wouldn’t become a problem.

But that was an issue for later. First I had to contact White, let him know I had Imogen, and deliver my ultimatum.

I picked up my phone and pressed a button, waiting until the contact I’d been given answered the call.

‘Yeah, who is this?’ It was one of White’s thugs.

‘Ajax King,’ I said curtly. ‘Tell your boss I have his daughter. If he wants to see her safe and sound, get him to call me at this number.’

I didn’t wait for a response, cutting the call then putting the phone back down on the table and ignoring it as it began to ring almost immediately.

I wasn’t going to answer him right away. He could stew for a couple of hours.

Glancing down at my watch, I checked the time.

Nine-thirty in the morning.

Jesus Christ, just how long was Imogen going to sleep?

Kidnapped women were not supposed to have long lie-ins when their captors were waiting to inform them of the rules of their captivity.

In spite of my satisfaction with how easily my plan had come together, a thread of annoyance wound through me.

I couldn’t believe how unafraid of me she’d been in the van last night, even when I’d deliberately been explicit, thinking that would scare the shit out of her.

But the bloody woman only seemed to find that even more exciting. And then she’d touched me, laid those delicate little fingers on my chest, pressing lightly, feeling me.

As if she had no idea about the chemistry flaring between us.

As if I was no fucking threat to her at all.

That touch shouldn’t have affected me in the slightest.

But it had.

Given that, I shouldn’t have kissed her and Christ knew why I had. Perhaps it was simply the way she’d looked at me, as if she’d never seen anything so fascinating in all her life, and then the assumption that I didn’t want her, like she’d be disappointed if I didn’t...

Nice justifications. You just wanted her.

But since when had what I wanted ever mattered?

Except her lips had been as soft as I’d known they would be, and she’d smelled of something sweet, something that had made my heart twist inside my chest. Roses. My mother’s favourite flower.

Ah, fuck, what was wrong with me? It was just a kiss from a wide-eyed virgin. Nothing to get wound up about.

Whatever my own feelings on the subject, though, one thing was clear: her virginity was the only leverage I had and so it had to remain intact.

I had to stay focused on my end game, because that was all that mattered.

Even if some other things get broken?

Yes, even then. Years ago, I’d had to stand by while my middle brother, Leon, had been kidnapped and tortured at the hands of my father’s enemies, and let my youngest brother, Xander, be used as some kind of evil financial genius to grow Dad’s empire.

That was my fault, my responsibility.

But my goal had always been to take Dad down, to save my city, and that outweighed everything. Even if it meant pretending I was on board with everything Dad did, no matter how it had sickened me.

The end justified any means.

And even now that end had been accomplished, the story wasn’t done. We still had enemies. And I would keep protecting my brothers.

I’d do the hard things so that no one else had to.

I sipped my coffee, gazing out at the sea, white-capped and with a few boats sailing here and there. It was a peaceful view and one I’d always loved when I was a kid, imagining I could just get in one of those boats and sail the fuck away, escape my father and his legacy for good.

A dream.

Despite the small yacht I kept in the boathouse at the foot of the cliffs, I’d never escaped and I was never going to.

Dad might be in jail, but he wasn’t the only one with a life sentence. That was fine, though. It was something I’d accepted long ago.

I glanced down to check the time again.

Quarter to ten.

Time for my prisoner to get the hell up.

I put my coffee down on the table and went back into the house, making my way into the wing that had once housed my stepsister and Dad’s second wife, and which I’d had renovated as guest quarters.

There was room enough to house an entire football team, though right now there was only the one occupant.

The unexpected little virgin I’d kidnapped the night before.

I strode down the hall that ran the length of the wing, the polished floorboards shining in the sunlight coming through the windows.

Arriving at Imogen’s door, I stopped outside it and knocked lightly.

There was no response.

Jesus, she’d better still be in there. Not that she’d be able to escape even if she wanted to, not given the security I’d surrounded the house with. The place was a fortress. Nothing got in or out. Including her.

Still, it was better to be safe than sorry so I didn’t wait, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The room faced the ocean, one wall just glass to enhance the view. A king-sized bed had been pushed up against the wall at right angles to the glass, and in the centre of the bed, all curled up like a sleepy cat, was Imogen.

Sunlight fell over the bed, her long, silky pale hair tangled across the white linen of the pillowcases, a sheet wrapping around her middle, leaving the rest of her uncovered. She hadn’t even bothered to undress, and was still wearing her white dress.

Her hands were tucked under her chin, her pale lashes lying motionless on her cheeks, deeply asleep. A smile curved that pretty mouth I’d kissed the night before, as if she was tucked up in her own bed and having a lovely dream, not a prisoner of Sydney’s most infamous King.

Lust flickered to life inside me, dark and dirty. I wanted to go over to the bed, pull away her dress, uncover her satiny, strokeable skin and ravage her carnal mouth. Find out whether she’d be as wild and electric with my dick inside her as I thought she’d be. Whether she’d shock those long dead parts of me back into life with a touch...

Ignoring the lust, I leaned against the doorframe instead, taking a moment to study her uninterrupted.

Last night she’d been happy that I’d kidnapped her and even though her lack of fear of me had been annoying, it did tell me one thing: being captured by me was preferable to being her father’s prisoner.

I wondered why. Her father had his own fledgling crime syndicate going on, extortion and violence the means he used to keep his followers loyal, and being related to someone like that wasn’t exactly going to be a picnic. Hell, I should know. I was related to a prick like that myself.

But why was being my prisoner preferable to being his? I didn’t use violence, not these days, but I was going to use her the way he had—for my own ends. The only thing that distinguished me from him was that my goal was ultimately to protect people.

Pushing myself away from the doorframe, I moved over to the side of the bed. She slept on, completely unaware that her kidnapper was standing beside her, staring at her.

Hell. The woman had no sense of danger whatsoever.

You like that. You like that a lot.

Imogen shifted, making a sexy noise and snuggling into the pillow. The top of her strapless dress had pulled down, her rounded breasts pushing against it.

My cock, the predictable fuck, hardened at the view. I ignored it.

‘Wake up, little one.’ I couldn’t keep the growl out of my voice. ‘I’m getting tired of waiting for you.’

She made another of those noises, then her lashes fluttered and she sighed, a sliver of green appearing as she opened her eyes.

Automatically, I searched her face for any signs of fear but there were none. Apparently, waking up to find me standing beside her bed wasn’t frightening or even all that surprising.

In fact, as her gaze found mine, that delicious velvety mouth turned up in a slow and sleepy smile.

She’s delectable.

The heat I’d been fighting tightened its grip.

‘Oh,’ she said, the word exhaled on a long, relieved-sounding breath. ‘Thank God. I was afraid you were a dream.’

‘I’m not a dream,’ I said flatly. ‘I’m a nightmare.’

She grinned then threw her arms above her head, stretching unselfconsciously in the sunlight like a sleepy cat. ‘No, you’re not. And it was definitely not a nightmare.’

The top of her dress dipped even lower, revealing lots of pale silky skin, and, despite myself, I couldn’t stop staring. My hands itched to tug that fabric down, to see what colour her nipples were and what they might taste like if I sucked on them.

‘Are you sure?’ I finally dragged my gaze from her chest, but looking into her eyes wasn’t any better. They were wide, the colour of new grass, and I caught a hint of her scent—roses and heat...

Delicious.

‘Oh, I’m sure.’ She blinked at me, apparently unaware of how close to the knife-edge I was. ‘I can even tell you about it if you want.’

‘I do not want.’ I kept my voice cold, trying to force away the ache in my groin. ‘What I would like is for you to listen. I have some things I need to say to you.’

‘Really?’ Her tongue crept out, small and pink, touching her top lip. The move wasn’t flirtatious but I was riveted anyway. ‘What things?’

I knew I should turn away, look at something other than that small pink tongue and soft mouth; that tiny mole near her upper lip; the pulse at the base of her pale throat.

But that would be to admit I wasn’t in control of this situation, that somehow she had the power here, and there was no way in hell I was doing that.

So I continued to stare at her. ‘Your father. I’ve told him I have you.’

Her gold-tipped lashes swept down, veiling her gaze. ‘Oh. I see.’ Slowly she pushed herself up so she was sitting on the bed, tugging up the top of her dress as she did so, which was probably a good thing considering the state of my damn cock. ‘And what did he say?’

‘I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. Once he’s got the message he’ll call me.’

She sat with her head bent, looking down at her hands twisted in her lap. Her pale hair lay over her shoulders and streamed down her back, gleaming in the sun like new minted gold.

There was a stillness to her now, that vibrating energy muted. ‘So what’s going to happen now then?’

‘What do you mean, what’s going to happen now?’ I frowned. ‘Nothing’s going to happen now. You’re my prisoner and you stay here. End of story.’

‘I don’t care about that.’ She lifted her head. ‘What I want to know is when you’re going to ruin me. I mean, that’s what you said you were going to do.’ Something that looked a lot like disappointment glittered in her eyes. ‘Or did you not mean it?’

CHAPTER SIX
Imogen

YES, I WAS disappointed and, even though I tried, I couldn’t hide it.

Last night when he’d shown me to my room and told me there was no point escaping because the whole house was surrounded by his men, I’d been expecting him to continue what he’d started with that kiss.

But he hadn’t. He’d pointed out the en suite bathroom then left.

It was a bit of an unhappy surprise after I’d decided that he was the perfect way to get my revenge on Dad.

I’d decided not to argue about it, though. I was tired anyway and consoled myself with the thought that maybe I could ask him about it the next day.

So I’d lain down on the bed fully dressed, shut my eyes and had gone out like a light.

It had been the best sleep I’d had in years, and that dream I’d had about him had really helped.

My very naughty dream.

I’d had sex dreams in the past, usually involving faceless men who would touch me and then walk away, leaving me hot and aching and restless with feelings I didn’t understand.

But not last night. Last night I’d dreamed I’d stayed in that van and this time the man wasn’t faceless. He had rough, blunt, handsome features and eyes the colour of a winter sky. And he’d watched me as I pulled up my dress, telling me what to do in his deep, harsh voice...

God, so hot. And now there was an ache between my legs, a throbbing heat. I wanted him to touch me, to make good on all the threats he’d delivered the night before, but, given the way he was standing there, the expression on his face utterly impassive, it was obvious he had no intention of doing so.

Dammit.

Did that mean that my one and only chance for getting back at Dad, of having any kind of choice about being with a man I

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