King’s Rule

by Ashenden, Jackie

  God, I didn’t want to look at him. I hated looking at him.

  But I’d spent years telling myself I didn’t care about him in the slightest, and so I forced myself to turn around, to arrange my expression into one of complete boredom.

  Yet, no matter how much I told myself I didn’t care, I felt it the way I always did, the intense gut-punch of his presence.

  He was a King and he carried himself like one, as if he ruled the whole city and everyone in it. The chair he sat in was his throne, the boardroom his throne room, the King employees his courtiers who paid homage.

  All the King brothers were charismatic and Xander certainly had his share. Something to do with his height, broad shoulders and long, lean body, showed off to perfection by the tailored dark grey suit he wore.

  His features were hawkish, all sharp planes and angles. He had straight black brows and deeply set black eyes, coal-black hair that he kept cut ruthlessly short and a straight classical nose. He was a study in darkness—intense, coldly beautiful and incredibly compelling. His air of complete and utter confidence mesmerised me. Yet the part of him that fascinated me the most was his mouth. Because though his face was hard, his mouth was not. There was a sensuality in the curve of his bottom lip that hit me hard every time.

  I shouldn’t look at that mouth. I shouldn’t look at him.

  I shouldn’t shiver every time he was near. I shouldn’t notice that he was even a man at all.

  But, God help me, I did. And I loathed him all the more for it.

  Especially now, when he was holding something I very much wanted over my head.

  ‘Are you deliberately being a bastard or were you born that way?’ I kept the question light, ignoring my racing pulse. ‘No, wait. I think I can answer that one already.’

  ‘My parents were married, if that’s what you mean.’ He said it with a totally straight face and I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. Probably not since he was devoid of a sense of humour. ‘Sit down, Poppy.’

  I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to do anything he said. My heart was still thumping from that moment he’d stood over me and pulled out my earbuds and I was terrified he’d somehow find out how badly that had affected me.

  Instead I leaned back against the door and put my hands in my pockets, trying to pretend I didn’t give a shit about anything, least of all him. ‘I’m fine right here, thanks. Standing will help keep me awake while you bore me to death with tedious details.’

  His brows twitched and if those intense black eyes had been swords, I would have been pinned to the door, both of them run straight through my heart.

  Yeah, I knew. He hated me as much as I hated him. To be honest, it was the only thing that made any interaction between us bearable.

  ‘Suit yourself.’ He didn’t even have the decency to look away and give me a couple of moments breathing space. He just sat there, staring at me as if he wanted to take me apart piece by piece. ‘Like I said, I need a PA for the month until I can find a replacement. It’s not an easy job, but you’ll be well paid and—’

  ‘Thanks,’ I interrupted again, kicking my heel against the door purely to irritate him. ‘But, sadly, I already have a job.’

  A lie. I didn’t have a job. I’d been fired from my latest position the previous week because the boss was an ass who thought that since my mother apparently whored around for free, he could take a piece of me for nothing too.

  Story of my damn life.

  I’d decided right then and there I wasn’t working for another man. My mother told me I was being ridiculous, that I should use my looks to get what I wanted, because wasn’t that why God had given them to me?

  But I wasn’t her. I didn’t want to be pawed over and viewed as nothing but a sex object, and I certainly didn’t want to have my entire livelihood based on my looks and what I could get out of men.

  What I wanted was to go to London and get an internship at Jordan Architectural, one of the best architectural firms in Europe and run by Elizabeth Jordan, one of the best female architects in the world.

  I had my architecture degree—which I didn’t get the best marks for, it was true—but I was hoping that what I lacked in academic ability, I could make up for in passion and my own artistic vision. Those I had in abundance.

  Yeah, but you’re not going anywhere unless you listen to King Dick over there. So how about you stop sabotaging yourself just because you don’t like him?

  He was looking at me again, all disapproving and stern, like a high school principal with a naughty student. And I could feel my knees getting weak.

  Irritated with myself, I lifted my chin and raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard what I said about that internship, didn’t you? About how you wouldn’t get it until you had a good reference from me?’

  ‘Yeah, so? I’ll call her and speak to her myself. I can—’

  ‘I know Liz personally.’ This time it was his turn to interrupt me. ‘And if I tell her you’re not worth taking on, then you’re not worth taking on.’

  ‘Oh, right, so you’re on a first-name basis with one of the best architects in Europe—’ I didn’t hold back with the sarcasm ‘—Mr I-Have-a-Huge-Crime-Empire-and-Should-Be-in-Jail? Yeah, of course you do.’

  Xander’s gaze didn’t even flicker, but something shifted in the black depths. Something that I was sure was anger and, for some insane reason, it made a little thrill shoot straight down my spine.

  He was always so very self-contained, nothing getting through that stern front of his, and it was very satisfying knowing that I could ruffle him a little.

  Stupid of me though. I didn’t want to make him angry. I didn’t care enough to make him angry.

  ‘Liz is Australian,’ he said without inflection. ‘Which you’d know if you’d done your research properly. She got her degree here and I knew her at university. She’s an old friend of mine.’

  Heat rose in my cheeks.

  I should have known that, but I didn’t. I hadn’t, in fact, done my research. I’d been too busy running around trying to get enough work to cover Mum’s debts as well as my student loan to do some basic fact checking.

  Idiot. And of course Elizabeth Jordan would be one of bloody Xander’s friends.

  I kicked my heel harder against the door, refusing to acknowledge my embarrassment. ‘So what’s the deal then? I have to work for you in return for this internship? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘I believe that’s what I’ve been saying for the past half an hour, yes.’ He was sitting so very still, his gaze unblinking and direct. Making me want to look away.

  I didn’t though. I stared straight back, forcing myself to hold it. ‘You know I’d rather work for Genghis Khan than you.’

  ‘And I’d rather hire literally anyone else.’

  ‘So why don’t you?’

  He didn’t reply for a minute, black eyes still fixed to mine. Then slowly he sat back in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, uncoiling with all the grace of a panther. ‘Like I already told you, I can’t find anyone else. None of the temping agencies will work with me and the only people who are applying for the job are enemies of the King family and I wouldn’t trust them as far as I can throw them.’

  ‘I’m an enemy of the King family,’ I pointed out, just in case he wasn’t aware. ‘What makes you think you can trust me any more than you can trust them?’

  ‘Because you want that internship.’ He folded his arms across his broad chest, watching me intently. ‘And I think you’ll do anything to get it.’

  Anything...

  Why did the way he said that make my breath catch? And why did I suddenly start imagining all the things I could do for him to get that internship?

  Furious with myself, I snapped, ‘If you’re thinking I’m going to get down on my knees and suck your cock for it,
you can damn well think again.’

  His eyes glittered, sharp and metallic. ‘You really think I’m that kind of man?’ There was real anger in his deep voice now and for a second I couldn’t focus on anything else. Because I’d never heard it before. Xander King, Mr Robot, having an honest-to-God emotional reaction?

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, wanting to push him further, to see how far I could go. ‘Are you?’

  ‘No.’ His reply was instant and full of that dark note of anger. ‘I don’t need to blackmail women to get sex. And, even if I did, you’d be the last woman on earth I’d blackmail. Because, quite frankly, I don’t want you anywhere near my cock.’

  ‘Why not?’ I demanded before I could stop myself.

  And the instant I said it I wished I hadn’t. I didn’t care about his stupid dick and I certainly didn’t care whether he wanted me or not.

  ‘Why not?’ Xander echoed, raising one black brow. ‘I would have thought that would be obvious. You’re my stepsister and I don’t like you. I never have. And, apart from anything else, I’m not attracted to you in the slightest. Does that answer your question?’

  The heat in my cheeks deepened.

  Idiot. I should never have said that. Why had I? The only explanation was that I was so conditioned to arguing with him that it must have been some kind of weird reflex.

  ‘Yes.’ I refused to look away. Refused to acknowledge, too, a strange disappointment that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard I ignored it. ‘Not that I’d do it anyway. I’d rather blow Vlad the Impaler.’

  Xander said nothing. Instead he looked down at his watch, some heavy platinum thing that highlighted the strong bones of his wrist. ‘Are you going to accept my offer or not? I have a meeting in five minutes and time is money.’

  I dearly wanted to tell him no, that I wouldn’t be working for him, not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Not even if he paid me a million bucks.

  But there was a little voice in my head nagging away, telling me I’d be stupid to give up this chance at something I’d been wanting to do for years simply because I hated Xander King.

  It was just a month. That was all. I could do that, couldn’t I?

  ‘You know I’ve never had an office job in my entire life, right?’ He had to know exactly what he’d be taking on, since my entire career was a sorry list of retail and hospitality jobs that I’d either left or been fired from for stating my opinion, or because of my attitude. Or they didn’t like my jeans or my hair or whatever.

  I didn’t care. Those jobs weren’t what I wanted to do anyway.

  You might care about this one.

  I gritted my teeth as Xander’s black gaze continue to pin me.

  ‘Are you saying you can’t do it?’ His voice was so cold, like an ice cube brushed over my skin.

  I repressed my instinctive shiver, keeping my chin high. ‘Of course I can do it. Seriously, how hard could it be? Making coffee, getting your dry cleaning and little gifts for your girlfriends. Easy.’

  His beautiful face was expressionless. ‘I have other people to get my dry cleaning and I can make my own coffee. I also don’t have any...girlfriends.’

  He said the word like it tasted bad and I didn’t know why it made me feel something like satisfaction. What did I care if he had girlfriends or not?

  ‘Whatever.’ I kicked my boot harder against the door. ‘It’s not like it’s hard—’

  ‘You’ll start at eight-thirty sharp every morning and I don’t like lateness so you’ll need to be prompt. The work day finishes when I do—unless I send you home early—and I don’t finish before six. At the earliest. And as for your duties, they’ll be basically anything I tell you to do.’ He paused and his gaze sharpened. ‘Do you understand?’

  My heartbeat sped up and I had no idea why.

  You like the idea of doing anything he tells you to do...

  No. God, why would I like the idea of that? I hated being told what to do.

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘You basically want a slave. No wonder no one wants to work with you.’

  His expression didn’t even flicker. ‘I don’t like attitude and I don’t like backchat. If you disagree with me I’ll be open to discussing it, but if it’s to argue for the sake of it then you’ll get short shrift. Once I make a decision you will not argue with it.’ He pushed his chair back and got to his feet, six foot three of tall, dark and compelling. ‘You get one chance with me, Poppy. One chance and that’s all.’

  My jaw ached with keeping in all the words I wanted to fling at him. The need to tell him he was a controlling douchebag and I’d rather crawl naked over broken glass than work for him or do a single thing he said.

  But...the promise of that internship was enough for me to swallow any sarcastic comebacks.

  ‘You’re serious about this reference?’ I asked instead.

  He moved purposefully towards me, obviously expecting me to get out of the way of the door. But I didn’t.

  I stayed exactly where I was.

  He came to a stop in front of me and at last that stony expression on his face flickered. ‘One thing to understand about me is that I never lie. You’ll only get the truth from me. So if I promise you a reference, I mean it.’

  I tried not to feel satisfied at that flicker of expression. ‘Well, I guess that’s—’

  ‘But you’ll only get a good reference if you perform to my satisfaction,’ he went on coldly. ‘If you don’t then you don’t get a thing.’

  Perform to my satisfaction...

  The words echoed weirdly in my head and I became suddenly aware of how close to me he was, towering over me, his gaze like black ice.

  Heat began to prickle across my skin.

  He was so tall, so broad, and he wore some kind of subtle cologne that smelled fresh, like water or rain, with an edge to it, a darkness. A rainstorm...

  My mouth dried, my heartbeat thumping uncomfortably in my ears. Standing here had been a mistake. But then if I moved, I’d be betraying something and one thing I knew was that I couldn’t betray any kind of weakness in front of this man. I’d already given him power over me by admitting how much I wanted the internship. I couldn’t afford to lose any more ground.

  I pushed myself away from the door and took a step.

  Towards him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Xander

  POPPY TOOK A step towards me, her copper eyes full of challenge, clearly having no idea how fragile my control was.

  Apparently, she’d been put on earth solely to test me.

  In the normal scheme of things I had no problem keeping myself in check. But this woman... Christ, she’d done nothing but push me from the moment she’d stepped into the room. And now my patience—usually limitless—was almost extinct.

  Then again, I didn’t know what I’d expected. She’d been doing that since she was ten years old.

  At first, I’d been happy at the thought of having a little sister to spoil since I’d been rather isolated as a kid. But then she’d turned up, made of nothing but anger and spite, and had decided, for some reason known only to herself, that I was the worst person on the planet and had treated me accordingly.

  Things had gone downhill from there.

  I’d known at the time that she’d just lost her father and so, for at least a year after she came to live with us, I tried my best to be friendly towards her. But she never softened. Nothing I did was right and nothing I said changed things. She either ignored me completely or picked at me constantly, pushing and pushing to get a rise out of me.

  She didn’t treat either Ajax or Leon like that, only me.

  So I stopped trying to be nice and simply ignored her. Which would have worked fine if I hadn’t accidentally caught her skinny-dipping in the pool early one morning. She’d been eighteen, rising from the water like a sea goddess, her hair dripping and gl
ossy down her back. Her skin had glistened a deep bronze, her lovely face devoid of its usual angry scowl, and she’d stood there by the edge, her arms raised, squeezing the water from her hair, looking out towards the ocean since our house was built on a cliff. And she’d smiled.

  It slew me, that smile.

  That was when my dick had decided it wanted her. And the damn thing hadn’t let up since.

  Now, I tried to hold onto the last fraying shreds of my control, but then she took that step, getting close, inches away from me, pushing me the way she always did. And I could smell her, that sweet jasmine scent, feel the heat of her lovely body. And all I could think about was turning her around and pressing her hard against the door, dragging her jeans down and getting inside her.

  Shutting that smart, beautiful mouth with my palm. Getting her smoky voice screaming into it with pleasure. Or maybe putting her on her knees and making her beg. Or even turning her over my knee and spanking that perfect ass red.

  You’re supposed to take care of her.

  Yes, I’d made that promise. And I wouldn’t break it, no matter how hard she pushed me. My control might be in shreds, but I would never lose it completely. I kept my promises. I always told the truth.

  Except when you lied about not wanting her anywhere near your dick.

  I ignored that thought.

  ‘So basically I have to do whatever you say.’ She came to a stop and folded her arms, giving me a belligerent look. ‘Sounds to me like you have all the power.’

  ‘No one is forcing you to take the job.’

  ‘But I have to if I want to get the internship.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Did she really need this explained to her? ‘You could call the firm yourself and ask for one. You don’t have to have a reference from me.’

  ‘Yeah, but it’s not like they’re going to pay any attention to some nobody from Australia asking for an internship.’

  ‘No, they won’t.’ The truth had to be said, even if it made her uncomfortable. ‘Internships there are incredibly sought after.’