by Rina Kent
“Don’t worry. I won’t peek at your conversations with your boyfriend.”
My heart does that flippy thing that makes me feel as if I’m going to vomit or faint or maybe both.
While it does have something to do with his presence when I thought he wouldn’t come, it’s more about what he said.
Boyfriend.
As in, he’s my boyfriend since I was staring at him. Well, that’s not exactly what he meant, but in my twisted brain, it sure as hell counts.
I tilt my head back to see the entirety of him. Though I doubt there’s any picture frame that can contain him.
His face is all sharp lines and defined cheekbones, which become shadowed depending on where the light is coming from. He has the type of features that communicate with the slightest twitch and the merest of movements. Nate has always had immaculate control over his body language and facial expressions, and it shows in each of his movements.
The older I’ve gotten, the more aware I’ve become of his imposing, silent character that speaks through actions more than words. I’ve also begun to see why he’s the perfect partner for Dad. They’re alike in a way, but Nate is still harder to read. Due to his rigid demeanor, I have to be extra careful in deciphering any change in his facial expressions.
It’s blank now, which could mean a lot of things. Is he angry, disapproving?
Or maybe he’s just indifferent as he is most of the time.
I can’t stop looking at him, studying him, getting my fill of his face as if I won’t see him for a while. I’m engraving everything into my memory, like how he fills his suit or how he appears majestic in it.
I can’t stop staring at his thick brows and lashes, at the slight stubble covering his jaw, and at how a few strays of dark blond hair kiss his forehead with each gust of wind.
And for a tiny moment, I wish I was a stray hair or the air. Either would do.
But what I really can’t stop staring at are his dark eyes that appear almost black right now. Those eyes have a language of their own that no one is allowed to learn, no matter how much they attempt to.
A language that I’ve been desperately trying to speak for a while now.
I grip the phone harder, needing the courage it provides as I speak, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“One less thing for King to worry about.”
I bite my lower lip, unable to hide the disappointment at how he blatantly ignores my statement and pushes it all to Dad.
It’d be better if I stopped.
Usually, I would.
Nate isn’t the type of man anyone likes to push—and I’m no exception.
But if I did, how would I accomplish what I’ve strived for? I waited for my eighteenth birthday to shout that I’m a woman now.
That I want him to see me as one.
That’s probably why I ask, “Do you think I should have a boyfriend?”
“That’s none of my business, kiddo.”
“I-I’m not a kiddo.”
His lips twitch. “You just pouted like one.”
Damn it. I knew he still thought of me as if I were a little girl. Can’t he see I’m all grown up now? That I’m looking at him?
That I can’t stop looking at him?
“I’m making it your business,” I insist. “So what do you think?”
“About?”
“Should I get a boyfriend?”
“No.”
My heart nearly rips my ribcage open and hops out to dance at his feet. He said I shouldn’t get a boyfriend. That can’t be meaningless, right?
“Why not?” I try to sound cool, but I can’t control the tremor at the end.
“King wouldn’t like it.”
Oh.
So it’s back to my dad again.
Seems I’m out for blood, though, because I still refuse to drop it. “How about you?”
“How about me?”
“Would you like it if I had a boyfriend?”
He pauses, then says, “I would be neutral.”
Right.
Of course, he would.
Why would the king of the jungle look in the direction of a stray cub when he has countless lionesses by his side?
The breaking sound in my chest that I felt when I thought he didn’t show up returns and I dig the edge of my phone into my ribcage as I struggle to maintain a neutral façade.
This would be the perfect time for me to stuff myself with some vanilla ice cream or a milkshake while I hide in the closet.
“Happy birthday, Gwyneth.” He reaches into his pocket and produces a small blue box and tosses it my way.
I let the phone fall to my lap so I can catch it. Receiving a gift from him is almost enough to make me forget about his words. About the apathy everyone in the media talks about.
Almost.
“Can I open it?”
“Sure.”
I didn’t even open my other presents, but the ones that I have from Nate are always first on my list. In the past, he’s always gotten me toys and books. This isn’t the packaging of either of those.
Inside, I find a gold link bracelet with a scale charm hanging from the chain. I let it dangle between my fingers and smile. “It’s so beautiful.”
“My assistant picked it out.”
I drag my gaze from the bracelet to him.
He’s letting me know that he would never pick something like this for me, but whatever, he’s the one who bought it and that’s all that matters.
“It’s still beautiful. Thank you.”
“King said you want to study law.”
“Yeah. He’s my role model.” And you.
I don’t say that, though, because in some way, it feels like he’s put up walls in the span of seconds. The tightening in his jaw and face scare me.
But apparently, they don’t scare me enough, because I blurt out, “Can you help me put it on?”
“No.”
It’s a point-blank refusal that makes me wince. Usually, he doesn’t refuse my requests, not that I make them often. Even though I’ve known Nate all my life, I was always intimidated by him one way or another.
Like people are intimidated by my dad, I guess.
“Why not?”
“You can do it on your own.” His expression closes and I know he’s done with any type of conversation and will leave, shutting all the doors in my face.
And if he goes, my plan for today will be an epic failure.
If he goes, I will have nothing.
He still doesn’t see me as an adult. He still thinks I’m a kid, and if I don’t do something about it, that will never change.
If I don’t do something about it, I know, I just know that I will regret it for the rest of my life.
So I gather the remnants of my courage and let my phone and the box fall to the swing as I stand up.
Thanks to Dad’s genes, I’m not short by any means, but I still barely reach Nate’s shoulders, even with heels on. Oh, and I’m so tiny compared to his broad build and mass of toned muscles.
But I don’t let that stop me and I step closer until my heaving breasts nearly graze his chest. Until the fabric of my dress is mere inches away from his tailored jacket.
It’s not the first time I’ve been this close to him, but it is the first time under these new circumstances and in the midst of all the zaps and jolts and dreams that he’s always the main character of.
Dreams that leave me soaked and aching for a single touch.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice is as stiff as his body, but he doesn’t step back or push me away.
He remains there like a sturdy wall that I always want to climb.
“Can’t you help me put the bracelet on?”
“I said no.”
“What’s wrong with doing it?”
I pause at my own words.
Doing it.
Me and Nate.
Nate and me doing it.
Shit. I need to rinse my mind with bleach an
d hope all the dirty thoughts disappear.
“Go back to your party, Gwyneth.”
I twist my lips in disapproval. He never calls me by the nickname everyone uses for me, and I hate it.
Gwyneth sounds impersonal and detached.
Putting distance between us is the last thing I want, so I push my body forward, toying with an invisible line where his world is separated from mine.
I’m crushing that line, decimating it, burning it to ashes.
Because I’m an adult now and I can do that.
“I want to be right here, Nate.”
His thick brows dip in the middle. “What did you just call me?”
“Nate,” I say, lower this time, a little bit uncertain, a little bit scared. Because, holy shit, his deep, rough voice and the tightness in his body can be terrifying.
My thoughts are confirmed when he says firmly, with an authoritativeness that strikes me straight in my bones, “It’s Uncle Nate.”
“I don’t want to call you that anymore.”
“It’s not up to you to decide. It’s Uncle Nate, got it?”
I swallow at his non-negotiable tone and the firm edge to it. No wonder he’s a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom. If I were a criminal, I’d be on my knees right now.
Hell, I’d be on my knees even without the criminal part.
“Answer me, Gwyneth.”
“Yeah. Okay. Got it.”
He narrows his eyes at that and I know he hates it, my using two or three different terms for the same thing. He told me so once, to measure my words before letting them loose, but I’m not as disciplined or as assertive as he is. Never was and probably never will be.
But a part of me longs to be, because if I am, he’ll see me as a woman, not a kid.
A woman.
But instead of commenting on my words, he says, “Now go back to your birthday party.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Gwyneth,” he warns.
“I want a birthday present.”
“I already gave you one.”
“The bracelet doesn’t count, because it was picked out by your assistant.” I don’t actually think that at all, but he doesn’t need to know that.
He releases a breath. “What do you want?”
“Can I have anything?”
“Within reason.”
“You told me once that reason is subjective. That means what you see as reason is entirely different from what I do.”
“Correct.”
“Then don’t say I acted unreasonably, okay?”
Before he can form thoughts or theories, I grab the lapel of his jacket, flatten my breasts against his chest, and get on my tiptoes.
The moment my lips touch his, I think I’ve reached another level of existence—one I had no idea existed. They’re so soft and warm but have an underlying hardness like the rest of him.
I move my mouth against his closed one and even dart my tongue out to lick his lower lip. It’s hesitant and awkward at best, but I don’t stop.
I can’t.
God. He tastes even better than my forbidden fantasies.
He doesn’t open his mouth or kiss me back, and his entire body turns to granite against mine.
Since I’ve witnessed him box with Dad countless times, I know he has a body of steel, but actually feeling his abs contracting against me is an experience all on its own.
If I could stay here for a lifetime, I’d choose to in a heartbeat.
Hell, I’m ready to accept the inevitable bursts of emptiness if it means I get to live this moment over and over again. If I get to exist here for whatever remaining years I have to live.
However, my small moment of ecstasy is brought to a halt when I’m pulled back by a fistful of my hair.
I tilt my head back to keep it from pulling as I stare at his harsh eyes. There’s a savage darkness in them that matches the tightness of his fingers in my hair. It’s a black, deep current and I’m trapped right in the middle of it.
“Don’t ever do that again. Understood?”
My lips tremble and I can’t help licking them—and his taste. Nate’s eyes zero in on the gesture and a muscle tightens in his solid jaw. It’s such a small movement, but it feels so huge right now, so important.
“Say you understand, Gwyneth,” he says, still staring at my lips before he slides his gaze to my mismatched eyes.
“I-I understand.”
If I expected those words to placate him, they don’t. His jaw flexes one more time and he shoves me away, releasing his firm, delicious hold on my hair.
He shakes his head at me once, then turns around and leaves. His strides are long and sure, but there’s something different this time; like the tension in his shoulders.
I watch his back, licking my lips and fingering the bracelet, and a tear slides down my cheek as I murmur, “Happy birthday to me.”
To read more, 1-click Empire of Desire.
ALSO BY RINA KENT
ROYAL ELITE SERIES
Cruel King
Deviant King
Steel Princess
Twisted Kingdom
Black Knight
Vicious Prince
Ruthless Empire
Royal Elite Epilogue
EMPIRE SERIES
Empire of Desire
Empire of Sin
Empire of Hate
Empire of Lust
LIES & TRUTHS DUET
All The Lies
All The Truths
THORNS DUET
Yellow Thorns (Free Prequel)
Red Thorns
Black Thorns
KINGDOM DUET
Rule of a Kingdom (Free Prequel)
Reign of a King
Rise of a Queen
THRONE DUET
Throne of Power
Throne of Vengeance
DECEPTION TRILOGY
Dark Deception (Free Prequel)
Vow of Deception
Tempted by Deception
Consumed by Deception
HATE & LOVE DUET
He Hates Me
He Hates Me Not
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rina Kent is an international bestselling author of everything enemies to lovers romance.
Darkness is her playground, suspense is her best friend, and twists are her brain’s food. However, she likes to think she’s a romantic at heart in some way, so don’t kill her hopes just yet.
Her heroes are anti-heroes and villains because she was always the weirdo who fell in love with the guys no one roots for. Her books are sprinkled with a touch of mystery, a healthy dose of angst, a pinch of violence, and lots of intense passion.
Rina spends her private days in a peaceful town in North Africa daydreaming about the next plot idea or laughing like an evil mastermind when those ideas come together.
If you’re in the mood to stalk me:
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CONTENTS
Also By Rina Kent
Author Note
Playlist
1. Anastasia
2. Anastasia
3. Knox
4. Anastasia
5. Anastasia
6. Knox
7. Anastasia
8. Knox
9. Anastasia
10. Knox
11. Anastasia
12. Knox
13. Anastasia
14. Knox
15. Anastasia
16. Knox
17. Anastasia
18. Knox
19. Anastasia
20. Knox
21. Anastasia
22. Anastasia
23. Knox
24. Anastasia
25. Anastasia
26. Knox
27. Anastasia
28. Anastasia
29. Knox
30. Anastasia
31. Knox
32. Anastasia
; 33. Knox
34. Anastasia
35. Anastasia
36. Knox
37. Anastasia
38. Knox
39. Anastasia
40. Knox
41. Anastasia
Epilogue - Knox
What’s Next?
Empire of Desire’s Preview
Nathaniel
Gwyneth
Also By Rina Kent
About the Author
