High Stakes (The Kingdom Book 2) (5 page)

“You just asked me, like, ten minutes ago,” I laugh.

“I know, but I want you to be comfortable.”

“I am comfortable, will you please stop fussing and come and sit with me?” I say. “That’s all I want. Your warm body next to mine would make me feel so much better …”

“Now that … I can do,” he answers with a satisfied smile on his face. I scoot over and he slides onto the couch next to me. He lies on his back and I rest on my uninjured side and curl into the crook of his arm. My favorite place to be. He traces patterns on my shoulder with his fingertips, and I have forgotten why I was even moving in the first place.

“You should call your mom ...”

“I know, she’ll be worried,” I say with a touch of sadness. She’ll also be reminiscent, I’m sure that me being in the hospital will bring back bad memories for her, regardless if it was different this time.

“I’ve kept her in the loop so she knows you’re okay, I think she’d just like to hear it from you though.”

“Yes, I’ll call her later this afternoon. How did you get ahold of her?”

“I got her number from your phone,” he states unashamedly.

“You went through my phone?” I ask jokingly.

“Yep, all four of your contacts. You should really put a passcode on it so strange men can’t access all your secret information.”

“You’re funny, Mr. King, you know that?” I say propping myself with an elbow on his chest so I can look at his handsome face.

“Yes, I do,” he answers confidently with a sexy smirk that shows off his dimple.

“Lottie is coming to see you after she’s finished work. Mid-afternoon,” he says, changing the subject.

“What time is it now?”

“Just past noon.”

“I need to get changed into something more presentable for visitors then.”

“Yes, you do. My mom is coming around in an hour.” He mumbles before nuzzling into my hair.

“What?” I squeak.

His chest rattles with his deep laugh and I smack him playfully on his stomach.

“What do you mean, your mom is coming? Why? I can’t meet her looking like this … oh god, she’s gonna hate me, she’s gonna think I’m a trouble maker. I
am
trouble. I told you from the beginning, you just didn’t listen to me.” I huff and push myself up to try to climb off the couch. I manage to get one leg over him but his wide body is blocking me and his hand clamps onto my thigh, stopping me from going any further.

“Lie back down, Arianna,” he says calmly, his voice laced with amusement.

“No,” I snap. I know I’m acting like a sulky teenager but I don’t want to meet his mom looking like this, especially after all that has happened.

He smirks and runs his hand up my leg, along my stomach and between my breasts. His fingers ignite my now sensitive skin. He wraps his fingers around the back of my neck softly and pulls me down toward him with a little gentle pressure. I don’t resist, and I smile when our lips meet. My ribs grumble at the odd angle I’m holding myself at, but I don’t care. Every one of his kisses is worth it.

He pulls away to speak and I slide back into his side where I was so comfortable before.

“Have you finished with your little tantrum?” he chuckles.

I blow out a sulky breath but I don’t really mean it. “I really wanted to meet your mom in better circumstances, can we reschedule? Please.” I look up at him hopefully.

“No, we can’t reschedule. I have some things I need to see to, and I won’t have you left on your own. She’s coming to look after you for an hour … two hours, max.”

“I don’t want to,” I whisper.

“I know. And I know I promised you that I wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to but I don’t have a choice here, Ari. Please don’t make it hard for me,” he says sincerely. I can’t help but look into those beautiful eyes. Even after such a little amount of sleep and all the worry he’s had over the last few days, his eyes still hold that twinkle.

“I know that you’re anxious about meeting her. But, really, there’s no need to be. She knows all about you. She’s excited to meet you.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised.

“Yes, really. Of course she would rather have met you under different circumstances but we’re making the best we can with the hand we’ve been dealt.”

“Okay,” I say quietly and reluctantly. His logic makes it hard for me to argue and I really don’t want to make his day any more difficult than I have already. Surely he wouldn’t throw me to the wolves if his mom was a real dragon, would he?

“Good girl. You want me to go and get you a change of clothes?” he asks kindly.

“What I would really love is a shower. Would you take me back to my room to get freshened up?” I ask knowing he will be glued to my side anyway, and won’t let me cross the hallway on my own. I don’t blame him actually, I’m a little nervous about being on my own after not knowing why I fell or blacked out so for today I’d actually feel better about having him next to me.

“Of course, you want to go now?” he asks, pushing himself up on his elbow.

“Just ten more minutes here,” I say flashing him a smile before nuzzling into his chest. He always smells so … I don’t know, just sexy, familiar, comforting. It would be easy to fall asleep resting here like this. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the rhythmic beat of his heart right next to my ear is calming. I feel like I could stay here all day.

I trace my index finger down the middle of his chest, and let the rest of my fingers fall across the ripple of his stomach. I move my hand in figure eights, feeling the taut muscle and letting myself explore the feel of him. I want to feel every part of him. I want to feel every emotion that he brings out in me. Not only do I want to feel it, I want to embrace it.

“That’s real good, Stunner, but I’m begging you not to dip your finger any lower on my waistband. You’ve only been out of the hospital for just a few hours so …”

“So what?” I say, teasing him by running my finger a little lower.

He grabs my hand with the speed of a ninja and with a smirk on his face says, “So, don’t make this difficult for me. I’m beginning to think that ‘Trouble’ is actually a better name for you …”

I say nothing. I just pout and try my best to make a sad face, when all I want to do is smile a full megawatt smile aimed totally at him.

“No sulking. Now, come on. Let’s get you showered, and that should keep you out of mischief for a while.”

He brings my captured hand up to his mouth, and kisses my knuckles before helping me stand, holding me steady for a second while I gain my balance.

Denham lets me link my arm in his and we go to my apartment. I can’t help but look up and steal little glances at him. He looks tired after all the worry of the last couple of days, and he’s also unshaven, which I decide I really like. It gives his already chiseled, handsome face an edge and I love how he can pull off so many looks so effortlessly.

We enter the apartment, and it feels weird. I feel my feet slowing and come to a standstill just inside the doorway.

“You okay?” Denham asks, his voice filled with concern.

“Yes, I’m … just trying to remember. I … I remember coming back into this room but I don’t remember anything else. I should remember, shouldn’t I?”

“Your memory might just come back to you, Ari. If it doesn’t, well then we just draw a line through it and move forward. No use dwelling over something we can’t do anything about.”

“You’re right.” I shrug. “If I can’t remember, I can’t remember. That’s it,” I say more positively than before. I have wasted so much time looking back and thinking how different things could be that I never learned to look forward, and change things for the better.

Denham goes straight to the bathroom and I hear him moving things around. I call out, “Could I have a bath instead?”

He pops his head around the door. “Sure thing,” he says with a wink.

I hear the bath start to run, and I strip off my tee and shorts and wrap up in my robe. I sit on the edge of the bed and brush out my tangled hair being careful to avoid the huge lump on the back of my head. While I’m teasing through the ends, I admire the three roses in the vase on the nightstand. They have such delicate petals and one looks to be wilting slightly. I recognize this as being the one from our first date as it was slightly pinker in color. The other two are a deeper red, but no less beautiful.

“You need a hand?” Denham asks from the doorway.

“No. Thank you I think I’ve got all the tangles out,” I say, catching a rogue knot and wincing a little.

“Here, let me do that,” he says, sitting behind me and gently brushing my hair until it’s smooth.

“You know, when she was about six, my sister Tara used to say she had to brush her hair two hundred strokes a day to make it shine. She always counted until she couldn’t count any further.” He speaks with such affection in his voice, and I love the fact that he’s so fond of his family. Being an only child, I have no idea what it would have been like growing up with siblings, but I think I would have liked it.

“She didn’t usually count much past one hundred before she was yawning and falling asleep in my arms. She never knew if I finished brushing to two hundred strokes or not but she went to bed with such a smile on her face to think her hair would be shiny because of it, that it made me want to do it all the more.”

“Did you brush her hair two hundred strokes?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, “every night.”

“You’re a big softie,” I state.

“Come on, your bath will be run …” he says, ignoring my statement as he hops off the bed and helps me stand. I walk in front of him into the bathroom and he smacks my ass with the back of the hairbrush. It sounds louder than it feels but I yelp all the same. “That’s for calling me soft.” He smirks and shakes his head “I’ll show you I’m not soft, just you wait.” I love this playful side of him.

“I’ll look forward to it, Mr. King,” I reply seductively, undoing my robe and dropping it in a puddle at my feet, so he just has a view from behind.

I just about catch a glimpse of his face as his eyes widen, and his nostrils flare before I go to the bathroom and immerse myself up to my neck in the bubble topped water. He follows very closely behind, dropping his cargo pants and throwing them into a heap in the corner.

“What are you doing?” I ask, shocked.

“I’m bathing with you.”

“You are?” I don’t know why this perplexes me so much. Maybe because I’ve never had a bath with anyone. It feels so … intimate. Not that we haven’t been intimate with each other before now, but it just feels so different. I imagine what it was like growing up in Denham’s house. He, Spike and Tara all carry a confidence about them and I would imagine they all shared the same bath water, and peed with the bathroom door open. Comfortable within themselves and each other. The only time I’ve been naked with or around anyone it’s been sexual and even then I’d get dressed after and there would always have been a layer of clothing replaced between us. Denham seems comfortable with his body, with or without clothes, and rightly so. He is honed and toned, but not so much that you lose the softness of his skin and I wonder if he got two people’s share of gorgeous when he was created.

When he walks behind the tub, I scoot forward to make room for him and he slides in behind me. His legs open out either side of my body and he guides me back into him with his hands on my hips. I lay back on his chest, with his chin on my shoulder and his arms wrapped tight around mine, which in turn are folded across my body. He nuzzles his head into me letting out a big sigh and placing a lingering kiss when my neck meets my shoulder.

We sit immersed in the huge tub, surrounded by bubbles and each other, and it feels like we are the only people that exist. I want us to be the only people that exist. No cares or troubles, just us. Uncomplicated moments like this without the stresses or strains that seem to plague our everyday lives.

“What are you thinking?” Denham asks softly.

“Nothing, really. Just enjoying this, us, here.”

He rewards my answer with open-mouthed kisses along my shoulder and up my neck. His breath tickles my ear and I just about stop the shiver that starts up in my toes.

“Ari?” he questions.

“Yes.”

“You know I’ll always protect you, right?”

“Yes,” I answer. It’s the easiest answer I’ve ever given. I have no idea how I know this, I just do. It remains one of life’s mysteries like, why is the grass green? It’s green, just because it is. And this, whatever this is, is no different.

“You trust me?”

“Yes, I trust you,” I answer with a smile. His voice sounds unsure and for once it’s me with the certain answers and him seeking the reassurance. His arms tighten around me and I suck in a breath through my teeth when he squeezes my ribs just a little too much.

“Shit,” he hisses “Ari, I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” Denham quickly drops his hold on me and braces his arms either side of the tub. I can’t help it, but I start to laugh. It’s the first time I’ve properly laughed in a few days and although my aching bones protest, if feels good to let the laughter move through my body. I sit forward and turn my head to look over my shoulder at Denham. He is looking at me with a very puzzled expression, and I see the infectious laughter is tugging at the corners of his lips. “Arianna. What on earth is so funny?” he asks.

“You!” I say, around the laughter, “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t mean you’re funny, you’re not, I mean I’m not laughing at you … It’s just—”

He raises his brow at the nonsense spilling from my lips.

I take a deep breath and calm my hysteria, “I’m sorry. You’re so sweet to me …”

He lets himself rest against the back of the tub, one arm rests along the rim and he rubs his forehead with the other. “Okay, okay, I’m finished.”

“Finished laughing at me?” he says with a smirk. “Or finished your hysterics?”

“Both,” I blurt. “I mean, I wasn’t laughing
at
you!”

I bury my head in my hands, still chuckling, and knowing he isn’t really mad with me. This is what I love. The playfulness between us, which comes so naturally, and makes the air around me feel lighter. I scoot forward a little more, allowing me enough room to turn and face Denham.