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Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

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BOOK: King of Me
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He strolled up and stood before me, his penis dangling freely in front of my face. “Like what you see, Miss Turner?”

My eyes snapped up to meet his. Yes, I liked what I saw, but so what? Didn’t mean anything. Of course, the bastard could read my mind.

“Mia,” I corrected.

He dipped his head and sat beside me, stretching his long legs into the warm white sand.

“What did the infamous Mack have to say?” he inquired.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear.”

“I did not. Otherwise, why would I ask? I’m not the sort of man to waste my time with games, Mia.”

Yeah right. King was the master of games.

“Of course not,” I said sarcastically. “That’s why you threw me in that cell with Vaughn.”

“Ah. Well.” He scratched his chin. “I admit, I may have gotten carried away.”

“You’ve turned me into a murderer.”

“Perhaps, Miss Turner, I simply wanted to grant you the opportunity to confront your brother’s killer.”

“Confront,” I repeated his word. “Is that why you slid a knife under the door?”

“No, but that was one hell of a confrontation.”

He thought this was amusing.
Evil bastard.
I didn’t feel regret over what I’d done, but it wasn’t entertainment material.

“No, not entertaining,” ” he replied to my thoughts and spoke in a deep, slow voice. “Stimulating, however…”

I turned my body and scowled at him. “Why would you do something like that, King?”

“I’ve already answered your question; you simply don’t care for the answer.”

“Because you’re lying.” King always had a motive for everything he did, and they were never frivolous.

“Don’t we all?”

“All what?” Sometimes I wasn’t sure if he referred to something I said or to something I thought.

“Do we not all have our motives? You, for instance; what motivated you to end Vaughn when you know perfectly well, Miss Turner, I wouldn’t have let him live?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ah, but you do. You merely don’t wish to say it.”

“I saw what he intended to do to my mom,” I blurted out.

“Saw?”

“Like I was right there with him,” I explained.

“Perhaps you were.”

“That’s not possible,” I argued.

He shrugged. “You are a Seer. A very powerful one who’s just beginning to comprehend her abilities.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m merely stating that Seers have unusual gifts which develop over time. Who knows what you are capable of?”

“Seers
had
,” I corrected. “You killed them all. Remember?”

And thank you for that, because now I’ll never know squat.

“We all have our pasts, Miss Turner. Even you.”

I looked at him and scowled, knowing he referred to my incident with Vaughn.

Thanks to you.

“I did not make you kill him,” he pointed out. “That was all you.”

I sighed bitterly. As usual, King liked to focus on partial truths. “The weird part was Vaughn wanted me to kill him. He kept egging me on about Justin being a villain, and about wanting to hurt my parents. Any idea why?”

“Perhaps he feared I might torture him for a bit.”

“Were you going to?” I asked.

“I hadn’t decided.”

“I wish you had—maybe you could’ve gotten him to tell me what happened with Justin.” Not that I believed a word he’d said.

“The truth often lies somewhere in the middle,” he said, commenting on my thoughts. “However, Miss Turner, I’m shocked.”

“What?”

“You would have liked me to torture him? My, how you’ve changed.”

“Don’t look so pleased, King.”

He chuckled quietly. “Well, I believe a little darkness is healthy in a person. Good for the soul.”

I wasn’t going to touch that one. “Whatever.”

Looking out across the waves, we sat in silence for several moments.

“I think I will miss this after I move on,” he said.

“Miss what? Torturing me?”

“The banter.”

I half laughed, half huffed. “You would.”

He grinned a bit. “And…perhaps throwing you in with Vaughn was not the best of ideas. However, the knife was merely a precaution for your defense as the man was dangerous—with or without chains—which is why I stayed close.”

“Did you just apologize?” I could hardly believe it. The man never apologized for anything.

He shot a look meant to warn me.

“Just wanted to be sure,” I said flippantly.
Not like you’re one to make mistakes, let alone admit to it. Lying, on the other hand…

“Very well, you were right; I had another motive for the gift. I acquired Vaughn because I planned to kill him after you had your words with the man.”

“I thought you couldn’t touch other 10 Club members?” Of course, it was a rule they followed superficially.

“I obtained clearance as part of the deal. I needed to know you would be safe after I am gone. Needless to say, I now know that I have nothing to fear; you are capable of doing whatever is necessary to survive. Even kill your foe. So, I suppose you might argue the gift was for me.”

His “gift” had turned me into a cold-hearted killer that I didn’t recognize. Bottom line, however, I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I needed to focus on something else, or I might crack the rest of the way. Letting that happen when I was so close to the end would be a tragedy.

Next time you want to give me a gift, try some clothes
.

“I am glad you mentioned that; I would like to take you somewhere special tonight. The dress is waiting in your room.”

“I meant that
you
should wear clothes, not buy me some.” Sitting next to his naked body made it hard to remember why I hated the man or why I couldn’t trust him. “We’re not going to an empty restaurant in San Francisco, are we?”

He flashed a wolfish smile. “I can arrange that, if you prefer.”

“No.”

“As I thought. Which is why I will take you somewhere special to me. From my childhood.”

“We’ll be alone?” I asked to confirm my suspicions.

“Someone must cook and serve the food. However, we will have the opportunity to talk privately so that you may ask me anything you like. I assumed this would be an adequate compromise to my earlier proposal.”

My eyes wandered over to his lean muscular legs, up to his groin, where he’d left his legs open.

Crap. Don’t look.
Luckily my mind was quickly back in control, smothering those tingles concentrating in my core and between my legs. Seriously, there was no rational reason for the effect this man had on me.

“Then it is settled.” King slowly rose from the sand and dusted off his hard bronzed ass. I tried not to look, but it was impossible.

“I’m going to take a soak in my tub. Care to join me?” he asked.

I blinked. It wasn’t a tub, but a round, large sunken pool with tiles made of the same deep blues as the Aegean Sea and smack in the center of his room like some ancient Grecian spa. I’d literally dreamed about bathing with him in it a million times—our bodies wet and steaming as I rode his muscled frame and devoured his sensual lips with my mouth.

King lifted one dark, silky brow. “My, my, Miss Turner. You
do
have quite the dirty mind. I hope to sample the fruits of its labor before my time is up. Perhaps tonight?”

I shook my head, feeling ashamed. My imagination was out of control. “No.”

“Such a shame, as I think we both might enjoy it.” King shrugged and began walking toward the house, dissolving into thin air right before my eyes. “I hope you like the dress, Mia.”

“I didn’t agree to go with you.”

“Do not be late,” his disembodied voice called out. “It displeases me.”

Pompous jerk.
I hung my head and covered my face before blowing out a slow breath. I tried not to be excited about tonight, but I was. I tried not to hate myself for it, but I did.

But what about the thing Mack said?

Focus on something else.
I needed to keep that to myself. If something really was wrong with King, it changed nothing. Not the fundamentals, anyway.
Eyes on the prize, Mia.
And his believing my ignorance over the matter would be my only defense should anything go wrong.
Think of something else, think of something else
, I chanted inside my head.

It wasn’t hard to move my thoughts back to images of King’s naked, rock-hard body, and to the unsettling mystery of what he planned for tonight.

 

CHAPTER FIVE

When I returned to the house after a few hours of deep contemplation interrupted by quiet fits of panic, I finally had my game plan figured out for the evening. The old Mia would have hummed and hawed, but King was right. Today I’d learned that this Mia wasn’t simply colder and perhaps crazier, but she was stronger, too. This Mia could face her fears and do what had to be done. Which was exactly why I wouldn’t allow my worries to get in the way of my goal: saving Justin, and, therefore, saving my parents’ hearts. Everything else was noise.

So, if bringing Justin back required me to share an intimate dinner with King and force myself to feel something for the man, then that’s what I would do. I would push myself to
see
him, really truly
see
him for who he was, without judgment or fear. Besides, I’d already met his bad side. Maybe if I did this, I’d get to see more of his soft underbelly.

I wearily climbed the stairs towards King’s room, but found Stefanos Spiros, the head of the Spiros family and of King’s mysterious Greek mafia, blocking my way. Stefanos was also the chief of police, which is why he wore an intimidating uniform.

“You are to go to your personal chamber to prepare for tonight,” he said with a thick Greek accent. “To the left and at the end of the corridor.”

I had stayed in King’s suite during my handful of nights at the estate, upon King’s request.

“Why the change?” Not that I minded, but King never did anything without a reason.

Stefanos shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. When our king asks me to do something, I do it.”

“And when I’m your queen, what then?” I asked just to torment him. “Will you follow me blindly, too?”

“No. You are not my king,” he replied.

“And I’m a Seer of Light.” The Spiros were not super-fans of my heritage—being related to Hagne—despite the fact she’d died over three thousand years ago. The strange part was that the Seer “gift” was passed on through bloodlines, but not everyone had it. How did I know? There were quite a few women in my family—cousins and aunts, yet I was the last living Seer. The end of the line.

“Yes.” He narrowed his dark eyes, eyes that matched his thick brown hair.

“You do realize how ridiculous it is to hold a grudge that long.”

“We have our reasons,” he replied.

“Such as?”

He gestured toward the corridor to the left, meaning he wasn’t going to answer. “Ypirétria awaits to assist you.”

I sighed. “In what?”

“Dressing for your evening. The helicopter leaves in thirty minutes.” He glanced at his watch. “Make that twenty-eight minutes.”

There was no point in asking where I was going because King would have already told me if he wanted me to know. “Thank you, Stefanos.” I nodded. “I’ll be ready in forty.”

The look in his eyes told me he was about to remind me of King’s punctuality obsession but decided against it. After all, it was my ass that would be chewed out by King for being late, not his.

I passed Stefanos on the stairwell and was almost to the top when I stopped. “Stefanos?”

He gazed up at me from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m sorry if my being here makes your family feel uncomfortable.”

He gave me a cold look. “You won’t live forever.”

I assumed he thought I’d want to live here until my last dying breath, even after King departed this world. I had no such intentions. “I’ll be out of your hair by next week, actually.”

He gave me a peculiar look, then glanced at his watch. “Twenty-seven minutes.”

I shook my head and continued on my way. When I got to the fairly large room with a balcony overlooking the side garden, Ypirétria, which was Greek for “maid,” sat in the corner with a pair of knitting needles and pink yarn.

“Hi. I’m back,” I said, knowing she didn’t understand English (nor I her language), but saying nothing felt strange.

She blurted out an exclamation I imagined meant, “Where the hell have you been, young lady?” But who knew?

“I went for a long walk.” I made my fingers walk across my palm to illustrate.

The elderly woman, who wore a black drapey dress and scarf, pointed to the bathroom and mimed that I needed to shave my legs.

Err. Okay…thanks for the concern?
“I’ll be ready in five minutes.” I held up five fingers, expecting she’d get the cue to leave.

She mumbled something, shook her finger at me, and then pointed to my armpits, once again miming that I was to shave.

I’m twenty-six years old and have a mother
, I thought, but didn’t want to say something so rude, even if she couldn’t understand.

She walked over to the enormous walk-in closet and emerged with a black satin strapless dress. She swept her hand over the front as if presenting me with a very nice gift, which I’m sure it was. King didn’t buy dresses off the clearance rack at Macy’s or Neiman’s—my usual hunting grounds. But with its ultrashort hem and scandalously plunging neckline, it was the sort of dress a woman wore when she didn’t intend to keep it on very long.

My body involuntarily reacted to the thought of King selecting something so seductive for me.

The woman then pointed right at my groin while making her other hand into scissors. “See-reez-ma,” she said slowly.

I scratched my head. “You want me to groom the kitty?”

“You make di lobe tonight,” she said in broken English. “Sex weet King.”

My jaw dropped. Not because the woman could barely speak a lick of English and had managed to say something so shocking, but because it gave me a sick sort of sexual satisfaction imagining King telling her how he wanted me to look for him, right down to my naked body.

BOOK: King of Me
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