Tyrant

by Jagger Cole

  He smirks and gestures at the opulence around me with his dark eyebrows. “Have you been kidnapped?”

  “There being jewels on the bars doesn’t make it less of prison,” I spit back.

  Enzo smiles coolly. “They’ve been told that you’ve got the exclusive story on the Kingdom of Bullogia. Your network has been alerted too. They were quite pleased to hear it, I’m told.” He smirks at me again in that infuriatingly hot way he does. “Anyone else I need to contact?”

  “Can I?” He shakes his head, and I groan. “Then no.”

  “No family?”

  “My parents passed five years go.”

  Enzo’s brows knit together. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Siblings?” I shake my head. He nods, but then his eyes glint almost dangerously. “Boyfriend?” The word snarls off his tongue. I shake my head.

  “No.”

  “Good,” he growls.

  I shiver at the way he says it. Enzo steps closer to me, and I can feel my pulse quickening. I step back, and he follows me into what’s now my quarters. He shuts the door behind me, closing us away from his guards. Then, it’s just me, and the tyrant.

  “Your high—”

  “Enzo,” he growls.

  “Enzo, I can’t just be kept here.”

  “And why not?”

  I swallow. “Because I—I have a job?”

  He shrugs. “You’re doing a job. You’re getting the world exclusive story on my country. And on me. Anything else?”

  I frown. “I mean, yes?”

  “What? You said you have no family. No boyfriend.” He says is curtly, and I tremble.

  “Well, no…”

  “So what is the problem?” He smirks his sexy smirk at me. “Do you object to living like a literal princess while doing the most important story of your entire career?”

  “I object to being held here against my will.”

  His lips purse, and his gorgeous eyes glint darkly. “Are you?”

  I glare at him. “There are guards outside my door.”

  “To keep you safe.”

  “Or to keep me yours?” I throw back.

  “Yes,” he growls.

  I tremble. “Yes?”

  Enzo steps close to me, and I gasp as he looms over me. “Yes, Claire,” he growls. “To keep you mine.” His hands move to my hips, and I gasp. But I don’t pull away. I don’t even know if I’m physically capable of it. One of his hands slides around my waist, and his big palm goes flat against the small of my back. He pulls, and I fall again him.

  “Enzo…”

  “You’re mine, Claire,” he murmurs with what sounds like longing. “You were mine the minute I laid eyes on you. And know that I will do everything in my power to guard you and keep you safe. I will move Heaven and Hell itself to keep you with me.”

  I blink in shock, and my core tightens. Heat pools through me, and I look up into his deep dark eyes and feel both lost and found. “You don’t even know me,” I whisper.

  “Yes, I do,” he growls. “Because I’ve been looking for you my entire life.”

  It happens so fast I don’t even know what’s happening until I feel his soft, full, perfect lips on mine. He growls savagely and kisses me hard and brutally. I want to fight or slap him again. But all I can do is whimper against his mouth and kiss him back. And kiss him back I do. He groans, and the kiss deepens. His lips part, and his devilish tongue demands entrance to my mouth. I part my lips for him, and then find myself in a freefall. I’m lost with Enzo Amantea. I’m lost, kissing the tyrant king of Bullogia.

  But suddenly, he pulls back. He’s panting, and his eyes dart over me with a wild zeal. My entire body trembles with heat. My very core is shaking.

  Slowly, with his eyes never leaving mine, Enzo backs away. It’s as if he’s forcing himself to keep two feet from me with every ounce of his control. He’s practically shaking from it.

  “Dress up, dinner is in one hour.” It’s not an invitation but a command. Maybe he’s not a tyrant but a beast instead.

  I frown. “Dress up? I have like one pair of jeans and…”

  He turns and raps his fist on the doors. They open instantly, and my eyes widen. A pretty young woman blusters past us pushing a whole wheelie rack of gorgeous clothes. Two more women with two more racks follow right after her and into my quarters.

  Enzo smiles thinly at my shock. He steps one foot closer to me, and I shudder. His hand comes up, and his thumb slowly brushes my swollen bottom lip. “I’ll see you at dinner, Claire.”

  His eyes flash hotly once more. Then he turns and strides from the room and out of sight. The women surround me, smiling warmly and gushing about what I’m going to wear. But my heart is racing, and my lips are still tingling long after he’s gone.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  5

  Enzo

  She’s late.

  I growl and glance at my phone. The whole palace is set up with security cameras, and I obviously have a whole security team. That’s in addition to the Royal Guard. But I’ve got all of the cameras wired to my phone. I didn’t spend fifteen years of my life in the countryside living off of what I could hunt and watching my friends die so I could let what we worked for slip away. I’m watching everything, always. Including her quarters, I might add.

  I have no shame about it either. I wanted to watch her dress for dinner. Except the racks of clothes my people brought in blocked the fucking cameras. I almost wanted to go in there and shove them aside myself. But I can wait to see that. I waited fifteen years for freedom. I can wait to undress the woman of my dreams myself. I stir my glass of whiskey, practically snarling. My pulse races. My cock twitches and hardens at the memory of her scent and the sweet taste of her lips. Even her slap, our first touch, is seared into my very soul. I crave her like nothing I’ve ever craved before, to a degree that almost frightens me.

  Almost.

  I’ve been doing my homework on Claire, too. In the last hour, I’ve had my people bring up everything they can possibly find on her. From her social media to things that aren’t public facing—all of it. They dug deep until I know everything there is to know about Claire Shaw. Perhaps I am the psychopath they claim I am on the news. At least when it comes to her, I am.

  Finally, the doors open, and one of my guards steps through. “Comandante?”

  I smile. The men who directly fought under me during the rebellion have a way of calling me that instead of highness, or king. And I don’t mind it one bit. Men like this man bled in the mud with me. They’ve earned the right to a little familiarity with their king. “Yes?”

  “She’s… here.” He blushes. I know the look, too. It’s the look of a man who’s looked upon something he shouldn’t have and liked what he saw. And he’s scared that I know. I do, but I know it’s not his fault, either.

  “Send her in, then leave us. Bring the rest of the guards with you,” I command. He nods and disappears. A minute later, she walks in, and my heart skips.

  My God, she’s a vision. It’s as if she floats in, shimmering in a black gown; bare shoulders, scooped back, and her long hair over one shoulder. Her neck is gilded with a string of diamonds, matching the ones in her ears. I stand with my jaw still on the table, and she blushes deeply when she notices my appreciation. It occurs to me that this is the type of beautiful woman who’s been so dedicated to her job that she’s isn’t even aware of how gorgeous she truly is.

  “So this is part of the interview?” she says wryly. “For the media?”

  “No, Claire,” I growl with no pretense. “This is for me.” She blushes deeper, and my desire for her burns hotter. “Sit.” I nod at the chair across from me. My tongue feels thick. My head is slow. She brings me to my goddamn knees.

  When she doesn’t move, I frown. “Claire, you may sit.”

  She looks at me coolly and folds her arms over herself. “And if I don’t?”

  I grit my teeth. But God help
me, her sassy insolence makes my cock swell. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  She shrugs with a small smile. “I suppose I am.”

  “Sit.” I growl. She arches a brow, and I sigh deeply. “Sit please.”

  “Thank you,” she smiles thinly and takes her seat. I shake my head and follow suit. Claire looks across the table at me, her brows still raised. “Well?”

  I frown. “Well what?”

  “Are you going to… I don’t know, apologize?”

  My lips curl at the corners. “For?”

  Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink again. “For kissing me.”

  I smile. “No.”

  She looks shocked. “Excuse me?”

  “I said no, I wasn’t planning on it.”

  She sits there looking gorgeous and stunned. “Enzo, you can’t just kiss people.”

  “Well, I did.” I shrug. I reach for my whiskey and finish the last of it. Claire looks flustered. Good. I clap loudly, and waiters bring out our first course and set the plates down in front of us. Claire stares at the plate.

  “Something to drink?”

  She looks up at me and quickly shakes her head. “No, thank you.”

  I regard her silently. “You’re worried about having a drink around me?

  She shrugs. “Maybe? Should I be?”

  “Are you going to go hungry too?” She purses her lips and looks at her food. “Claire, I haven’t poisoned or drugged your damn food.

  “Says the self-appointed comandante,” she mutters. I growl, and she purses her lips. “Fine. Switch plates with me, then.”

  I frown. “Excuse me?”

  “Switch plates. If you’re so sure there’s nothing in my food.”

  I roll my eyes. But before she can utter another word, I stand and switch our plates around, setting mine in front of hers. Claire frowns, and I sigh impatiently. “Now what?”

  “What if you anticipated that and drugged your own food?”

  I sigh heavily and sit. “You’ve watched too many movies. Claire, if I wanted you drugged or dead, it would’ve happened the second you stepped off the airplane.” I smirk. “And clearly, I don’t need to drug you for you to kiss me back.”

  Heat colors her face, and I grin at the flicker in her eyes. She purses her lips. “Fine.” She picks up her fork and eats a small bite. She pauses, but I take a bite of mine as well, and she seems to relax.

  “Something to drink now?” I sigh again at her hesitation. “They’ll open the fucking bottle in front of you if you wish.”

  She smiles. “Fine. A drink would be nice. Red wine?”

  I push a button under the table, and one of my waitstaff enters. “Highness?”

  “A bottle of the ’82 Chateau Lafite from the cellar, please.”

  He nods with a smile. “At once, your highness.”

  I look back to see Claire staring at me. “That sounds fancy.”

  I smile. “It is.”

  “I don’t need fancy.”

  “It’s not about need,” I growl. “It’s about want.” I let my eyes burn into her. Letting her know what I’m really saying. And she does because she blushes and looks down. The waiter returns with the wine and offers it to me. “Her,” I nod. He offers it to Claire and then opens it and pours her a tasting.

  She looks at it warily. “Claire, taste it, please.”

  “You taste,” she laughs nervously. “I’m no expert.”

  I grin. “Claire, it’s a thirty-thousand-dollar bottle of wine. You don’t need to be an expert to know it tastes like goddamn heaven. Enjoy, please.”

  She blushes and nods. “Okay, fine.” She brings the cup to her lips, closes her eyes, and sips. She groans, and I swear the sound turns my blood to fire.

  “Good?”

  “Holy shit yeah,” she groans. I chuckle, and her eyes fly open. Her face flushes pink and her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m sorry!”

  “For what? Swearing?”

  “Yes, I…” she splutters. “I’m so sorry if I offended.”

  I laugh heartily. “Claire, do I look like ISIS? The fucking Pope? Swear, I don’t care or mind. Believe me that I’ve heard far worse.”

  She smiles and seems to relax. The waiter, hiding a smile, tops off our glasses and then leaves us alone to enjoy the food and drink. Suddenly though, mid-bite, Claire reaches into her small clutch and pulls out a mini recorder.

  “May I?” she smiles.

  “No.”

  Her smile fades to a frown. “What about the story? I thought I had access?”

  “You do, but not at dinner.”

  “So I can swear, but we can’t talk business?”

  “Precisely.”

  I smile, and she purses her lips. “Fine.” I bring another bite to my mouth, and she clears her throat. “So, you consider yourself a freedom fighter?”

  I sigh and put my fork down. “I thought we said no business.”

  “I’m just making conversation.”

  I grin. She’s got a boldness to her, and I like that.

  “I do.”

  “The world seems to disagree.”

  I frown. “The world is being fed bullshit by the men I kicked out of my uncle’s throne.”

  “And yet, you’re sitting on that very throne now?”

  My brow creases. “I’m a king, Claire. The throne is mine.”

  “Says you.”

  “Says nine generations of my family ruling Bullogia,” I growl, slamming a fist down. Claire startles. She blanches and pales, and I frown. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t directed at you.”

  “It’s fine.”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s not. I don’t mean to scare you, or intimidate you.”

  “I just pushed you to see if you would react, right?”

  I scowl, but a smile teases my lips. “Did you?”

  She nods, smiling softly. “What you have is an image problem. You say the old regime is slandering you, and making things up?”

  “They are.”

  “Well, when you’re pressed on it, you react…” she shrugs.

  “Badly.”

  She nods. “A little.”

  “I see,” I growl. I reach for my wine and take a sip.

  “Enzo.”

  I turn my eyes back to her, and flames of desire flicker inside my heart.

  “Why am I here?” she says gently. “I mean really. To tell the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well it doesn’t seem like you want to talk about any of it, or actually start on the story, or—”

  “You’re here,” I say, sounding like a feral dog. She blinks in surprise. My hands clench the edge of the table, and my jaw clenches tightly. It feels like there’s a roaring in my head, and the only relief is in her eyes.

  “You’re here, Claire,” I hiss. “Because I desire you.”

  6

  Claire

  I blink. My heart does a flip flop. “I’m sorry, what?” I whisper.

  Enzo looks at me coolly and sips his wine. His dark eyes flicker over me. His tongue darts out to lick the wine from his perfect lips, and I feel desire stir inside of me. It’s a terrible, forbidden desire, too. My pulse quickens, and heat throbs in my core. My mind wanders to that kiss, and his touch. I think of the way he grabbed me to take exactly what he wanted…

  No man has ever touched me like that before. I’ve never felt anything like that at all. I mean my last date was months ago, and it was awful. I also most certainly went home alone after it—it and pretty much all the dates before that, for a long, long time. My career has been everything to me. I’ve put everything I have and am into chasing the stories that would get me noticed. I’ve put in the long hours. It’s landed me as lead reporter covering one of the most important international stories of the year. Actually, now that Enzo has sent everyone home but me, it’s a story worth its weight in gold.

  But all of that means I never had time for dating. Or even anything passing. Which means here I am at twenty-
six, doing great in my career, but single as hell. The only passion in my life over the last few years has been late at night, alone, and involving batteries.

  That is, until Enzo Amantea, tyrant king of Bullogia, kissed me like I belonged to him. He stole that kiss from me, but I opened the door for him. He stepped into my world with that kiss and lit it on fire. And now I’m having the damnedest time trying to concentrate on anything at all but his lips, and the memory of the way they kissed mine.

  “What are you thinking about?” Enzo says the words almost in a purr, like a tiger.

  “Um, what?” I pull myself out of my daydreams, blushing.

  “Inside that pretty head,” he growls with a sly hint of a grin. “What are you thinking about.”

  “Nothing,” I answer quickly.

  Enzo smirks. “You’re thinking about me kissing you.”

  My blush deepens to a burn. “Well, you did.”

  “And you did back.”

  My mouth falls open. “I did not!” He shoots me a sharp look, and my mouth snaps shut. I can lie to myself about him kissing me and me not kissing him back. But I can’t lie to him about it. He knows I kissed him back. He knows I wanted more.

  “If I’m going to stay here…” I whisper through my embarrassment.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m here as a journalist.”

  “Of course you are, Claire,” he answers without missing a beat. He sips his wine, and his eyes hold mine.

  “Nothing else.”

  “What else would you be here for?” His eyes look amused, and his lips curl slightly. It’s like he’s testing or teasing me.

  “To be your…” my cheeks redden. “I don’t know.” I look down into my wine, my toes clenching under the table under his heavy gaze.

  “My what?” he purrs thickly.

  “Your… concubine or something.”

  Enzo chuckles deeply. “This isn’t the eighteenth century, Claire.”

  God, the way my name rolls off his tongue. He makes it sound so exotic; so erotic.

  “You know what I mean,” I say quickly. “The lavish quarters?”

  “All the place quarters are lavish. That’s why it’s a palace.”