“I’m disappointed in you, Bane. You can’t even be bothered to enjoy yourself while you’re in a country where prostitution is legal.”

“Too bad it’s me here and not you, huh?”

“I’d certainly be taking full advantage of the perks.”

I snort. “Except you’re engaged.”

“It’s another time zone. It doesn’t count.”

I don’t laugh at his joke. “Listen, Ruby mentioned that she was going out for dinner tonight with you and Amalie, is she available? I’ve tried to call her, but maybe she has her phone on silent.”

“She’s here. We’re in the middle of dinner, though. Can I have her call you back?”

“It’s a bit of an emergency. It would be better if I spoke with her now.” The lie sits uncomfortably in my throat. Even I’m questioning what I’m doing right now.

“I’ll get her.” His voice is muffled as he covers the receiver.

I hear Ruby’s confused voice, also still muffled.

“He said it’s an emergency.” That’s Armstrong.

“Oh? Okay.”

The phone must change hands. I hear the muted clip of heels and a door opening and closing, followed by Ruby’s muttered, “Emergency, my ass.” A second later her annoyed voice is right in my ear. “Are you fucking kidding me with this, Bancroft?”

I love it when she says my name. I love that she rarely shortens it and when she does it always sounds a little breathless. I also love that she’s pissed off at me and swearing. I have a problem. I know.

“Did you turn your phone off?” I don’t know why this is my leading question.

“Yes.”

“You can’t do that.”

Her heavy exhalation of breath does amazing things to my dick. I adjust my semi and smile.

“I can when you’re acting like an asshole,” she snaps.

“I’m concerned.”

“About what? I told you I wouldn’t hook up with Douchey McHornball. What more do you want?”

“That’s not what you said at all.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

I wish I could see her right now. I imagine her with a hand propped on her hip, chin tipped up in defiance. “No. You said you wouldn’t bring him back to my condo. You left that wide open for interpretation and other possibilities.”

“What are you even talking about?” She falters a little.

It’s all I need. “And I think you did it on purpose.”

“You’re not making sense,” her voice wavers. “Is there a purpose to this phone call, or are you just looking to start a fight over perceived context?”

“It’s not perceived context.”

“You’re infuriating. What exactly is the issue here?”

“I already told you, I’m concerned.”

“Because?”

“You’re under the influence and you’re susceptible to making bad decisions when you’ve been drinking.”

“Oh my God. You are seriously pissing me off right now.”

“You kissed a perfect stranger after one drink in the past. You don’t think that’s a poor decision?” I’m pushing her buttons. It’s a bad idea, but I can’t stop myself. I don’t want someone like Wentworth to get her intoxicated and take advantage of her. I want to be the one to do that, repeatedly. Okay, that sounded bad in my head. I’d like her to be sober and willing when I get her naked.

“This is your emergency? You’re going to shame me over kissing you back, for what purpose? To ensure I don’t sleep with some jerkoff friend of Armstrong’s? I assure you, I’m not the least bit interested in Wentworth. He’s the exact opposite of my type, but if you call again tonight and try and pull more of this bullshit on me I’m going to sleep with him out of spite.”

“You will not.”

“Are you still trying to tell me what to do?”

I’m pretty sure she would reach through the phone right now if she could and throttle me. “There’s no way you would sleep with someone just to spite me.”

“Are you sure about that, Bane?” Her voice is suddenly soft, menacing even. “Are you willing to test that theory?”

There’s no right answer to that, I realize, as I open and close my mouth and no words find their magical way out. I’m not totally sure. I think I’m right. I hope I’m right. I get the sense that Ruby is a bit more traditional than she likes to let on, or at least she’s more selective.

Her embarrassment over kissing me back tells me this. I also think she’s far more liable to make rash, poorly thought-out decisions when she’s been drinking—hence her kissing me back in the first place. Which I don’t regret in the slightest. What I do regret, maybe just a little, is not staking some kind of claim prior to leaving her in my condo. Although, at the time, I had only known her for two days. That might’ve been a little weird and preemptive.

All it would’ve taken was a few words. If Ms. Blackwood hadn’t interrupted our good-bye I would’ve followed through on that kiss and maybe we wouldn’t be having this argument.

I take a deep breath and go with honesty. “Ruby Scott, I know better than to think I can tell you what to do, but the very last thing I want is for someone as dickish as Wentworth to get his hands on you, especially if it’s solely for the purpose of spite.”

I get breathing for several seconds. Deep breathing. The kind I’m not opposed to. The kind I’d like to hear as a result of my abilities to make her feel extraordinary. In a very sexual way.

“I’m going to hang up now, Bane, and you’re not going to call me back tonight, because I don’t think you want to see how far you can push before you reach my limit.”

I don’t get another word out before the dial tone happens. As much as I want to call her back right away, I know it’s a bad idea. A very bad idea. So I keep it together and leave things alone. It’s late. I should go to bed. But I can’t, because all I can think about now is that fuck Wentworth and how one man can put things in perspective and screw everything up for me at the same time.

* * *

It’s been forty-eight hours. I tried to call Ruby yesterday. The only response I received were pictures of Tiny and Francesca, like they’re ransom notes in image form. Tiny was on the back of her hand. Francesca was hiding under my sheets. My messed-up sheets. A reminder that she has my pets and she has access to all my things, including my bed.