spitfire you got there,” Cole said to Dorian. “This woman’s gonna get you into trouble.”
“You don’t say.” Dorian swept her into his arms, a spark of humor glinting in his eyes as he backed her up against his BMW.
Aiden mumbled something about reconvening tomorrow morning to make a plan for the break-in, but Charley was barely listening, already losing herself in the pleasure of Dorian’s kiss.
The other men headed back toward Aiden’s SUV, and Dorian shifted his mouth to Charley’s ear, whispering a hot warning against her skin. “I should bend you over this car right now and have my way with you. That will teach you not to leave the manor after dark.”
Charley laughed. “You’re a naughty vampire, Mr. Redthorne.”
“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly taking issue with fucking in public places.” He lifted her, setting her on top of the hood and guiding her thighs around his hips. “As I recall, that’s precisely how we met.”
“Your driveway isn’t exactly public, but… Fair point.” She cocked her head and tapped her lips. “What are you proposing, vampire?”
“Shall I draw you a sketch, then?”
“I’m much better with hands-on learning.” She tightened her thighs around his hips and pulled him close, eager for another kiss—for whatever filthy, exquisite fun he had in mind.
But just as his lips brushed her mouth again, the phone buzzed in her pocket.
“I’m vibrating,” she said.
“Me too, love,” he whispered.
“No—my phone. Someone’s texting me.”
“Leave it,” he said, kissing a path to her neck. Between her thighs, he was already growing hard for her.
But Charley’s gut tightened with worry. Aside from Dorian, there were only two people who regularly texted her—Sasha and Rudy. She couldn’t risk missing a text from either of them, especially at this hour.
“Just… one sec.” She put a hand on Dorian’s chest and reached down to retrieve her phone.
It wasn’t Rudy.
A shot of raw adrenaline flooded her veins, and Charley hopped off the car, heart leaping into her throat.
“Charlotte?” Dorian asked.
“My sister’s in trouble.”
“I thought she was in Vermont?”
“So did I.” With a trembling hand, she held up the phone to show Dorian the text.
Emergency. In trouble. Meet @ Perk ASAP. Back entrance. Come alone no matter what, Charlotte!
“Bloody hell. Aiden!” Dorian flagged him down just as Aiden was pulling out. The SUV came to an abrupt stop, and Dorian wrenched open the back door, waving Charley inside.
“What’s wrong?” Aiden asked.
“Sasha’s in trouble.” Dorian climbed in after Charley and slammed the door. “We need to get to Manhattan—now.”
Without another word, Aiden shot out of the driveway, hit the main road, and floored it.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Aiden sped toward the city, but the clunky SUV was not Dorian’s Ferrari, no matter how hard he pushed.
Charlotte was silent in the backseat beside him, chewing her thumbnail, her knee bouncing as she frantically tried to call her sister. Dorian reached over to give her a reassuring squeeze, but he couldn’t stop her fretting.
“Everything will be okay,” he said softly.
He believed it. He needed Charlotte to believe it too.
Sasha was smart and resourceful—just as tough as her big sister. They’d get to her soon enough, figure this out, and then he’d bring both women back to Ravenswood permanently. No more free rein in the city, no more unplanned road trips. He didn’t care what Charlotte needed to tell her uncle to keep up the ruse. He only cared that she and her sister were safe.
“Everything will be okay,” he said again.
“How can you say that?” Charlotte barked. She had her phone in a death grip, but Sasha hadn’t responded to any of her calls or texts. “I have no idea what’s going on. Sasha’s probably freaking out. Aiden, can’t you go any faster?”
“I’m trying,” he said, but there was nothing he could do. Eighty was about the limit on this beast, and FDR Drive was always a crapshoot. Aiden finally made it to the exit, but the moment they hit Ninety-Sixth Street in Manhattan, an endless sea of brake lights appeared ahead.
“For fuck’s sake.” Aiden eased them into a stop. “What now?”
Dorian opened his window and leaned out to see what was going on.
His stomach dropped.
Several NYPD cars blocked the intersection ahead, attempting to redirect traffic. On the sidewalk, they were just starting to set up barricades, clearing away a rapidly gathering crowd of onlookers.
“What’s happening?” Charlotte asked, opening the window and craning her neck to get a better view.
A fire engine roared past them, followed by two ambulances and a fire chief SUV.
“Looks like a fire,” Dorian said.
Two military vehicles