Page 51 of Taking Denver

“‘They’?” I narrow my eyes, annoyance pushing through me at an alarming speed.

“The guys at the station. You have a reputation for fluttering your eyelashes and getting away with a lot,” he says, leaning his hand against the bookcase behind me. “That’s fine for a speeding ticket, but this is a little more serious, don’t you think?”

I flush, and the sudden change in atmosphere throws me off. Who does this guy think he is?

“I’m not trying to get away with anything,” I say. “Just because your dick twitched doesn’t mean that was my goal. In fact, I’d prefer it if you moved away.”

He holds his hands up and backs away, still smirking. “Fine by me. It was good to finally meet you and see what all the fuss is about. I think we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Oh yeah?” I say, watching him head for the door.

He puts his hands in his pockets. “Oh yes. I’ll be keeping averyclose eye on you, Mrs. Ledger. Gotta do my research if I plan on locking you away.”

I follow him into the foyer. “For something I didn’t do?”

He turns to me, considering me for a moment, his confidence outstandingly annoying.

“We both know you killed Wyatt and went on vacation while Ranger cleaned up your mess. And I’m a little tired of you Luxes getting a free pass. So, see you soon.” He flashes a grin and leaves.

My heart races with fear and frustration. What an arrogant piece of shit. He has nothing on me. Nothing. He can follow me all he likes. He’ll just be wasting his time.

I turn, and Ranger is standing in the hallway, looking amused.

“Losing your touch?”

Chapter 19

Denver

“He’s going to keep coming for you until you make an official statement,” Ranger says.

I have a headache. I forgot how noisy it is here. My vacation was a haven of crashing waves, but here feels like every creak is someone coming to take me away.

I stare at the lunch Martha made and push the plate away, my stomach twisting. As if sensing the disrespect, the housekeeper stomps into the dining room and shouts at me.

“I can’t help not being hungry!” I bite back, and call her a few choice names in Italian. Martha throws her hands into the air before leaving.

“I wish you’d put more effort into your Italian,” Ranger says.

I scowl at him. “Even Dad barely knew how to speak it.”

“He knew enough.”

“Only the colorful words,” I remind him sweetly, and I’m about to launch into a tirade of abuse in beautifully accented Italian when someone else joins us.

“Well, well, well.” Axel strolls into the room, wearing a wrinkled suit and a smile. “Look who decided to come home.”

I squeak happily and jump out of my seat to fling my arms around him. He’s almost as tall as Ranger, and there’s no mistaking who Axel is, but he couldn’t be less like his dad. Axel is a troublemaker, but he’s closer to mischievous than dangerous.

“Welcome back to hell,” he whispers in my ear.

I grin and release him. “Thanks. Do I get a welcome basket?”

“Filled with skulls,” he says, wiggling his fingers and sitting opposite me. “Maybe even a few spells to ward off angry men called Ranger.”

“Watch your mouth,” Ranger says sharply.

Axel bobs his eyebrows at me, and I hold back a laugh.

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