Ruby’s POV
New York traffic was a completely different beast than the open roads of the French Riviera. By the time the Rolls-Royce finally crawled into the private underground compound of the penthouse, we were running incredibly late. To make matters worse, my phone had completely died halfway through the drive, leaving me staring at a black screen.
Alex is going to be furious, I thought, a sudden spike of nervous adrenaline hitting my chest. Or worse, he’s going to be worried sick. Since we became intimate, that raw, possessive protective streak in him had skyrocketed.
The car smoothly glided to a halt in his private VIP slot. The driver jumped out instantly, rushing around to pull the heavy armored door open for me.
"Thanks." I murmured, offering him a quick, breathless smile
