KING OF ME (THE KING TRILOGY Book 3)

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KING OF ME (THE KING TRILOGY Book 3) Page 22

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff


  “Well, I used to drink it just to piss him off, but I find myself missing the taste.”

  I laughed. “You’re telling me that all of those bottles you had were there to torment evil King?” That was what I called him now.

  He shrugged those bronzed wide shoulders taut with muscle. “Yes. He didn’t much like it. Seemed like a better choice versus whipping him back.”

  I tilted my head and stared at this beautiful man, understanding another tiny piece of the puzzle. Evil King had tried to beat the goodness out of him. How insanely righteous that the good King tried to fight back with champagne.

  “Drink all the champagne you want. After our son is born, I’ll drink a glass with you, too. But no cigars, they smell disgusting.”

  His blue eyes glimmered with joy. “I love you, Mia.”

  I cupped his cheek. “I love you, too.” More than anything you could possibly imagine.

  “More than anything?” he asked and placed his warm hand on my belly.

  “Okay. You’re tied.”

  He laughed. “Well then, are you ready?”

  “For what?” I hoped he meant more sex.

  “To go diving.” He sounded like a little boy eager to find a hidden treasure.

  “I can’t go deep, but yeah. Sure. What are we diving for?”

  “It is the Incan Chalice of Life,” he replied.

  “Uh-uh. No. You promised your ‘relic hunting’ days were over.”

  “But this object is for us. Something we need.”

  “And why would we need that?”

  King was quiet for a moment. “It has the ability to bring a person back to life. Specifically, those who have unfinished business and are tormented souls that remain in limbo.”

  “But you’re alive alrea…” My voice trailed off. You mean…for Justin, don’t you?

  King nodded. “Mack and I had been searching for the chalice for a very long time—as a backup, of course. And as luck would have it, I received an email last week, containing the location of the Spanish vessel rumored to have been carrying it.”

  “Mack sent you an email?”

  King nodded.

  “What did it say?”

  He scratched his chin. “It simply said, ‘Tell Mia thank you.’”

  Wow. I could only assume he’d meant “thank you” for saving his brother. He now meant to give me back mine. There were no possible words to describe how grateful I felt.

  “And,” King added, “I suppose it seems only fair that your brother be given a second chance. After all, where would we be if someone hadn’t fought for our souls?”

  It was true. King had brought back Mack. I brought back King. King had brought me back. And I wasn’t simply referring to our lives.

  “Thank you, King.” I hugged him tightly. “Thank you for giving my family a chance to be whole again.” We’d have to get very creative with the story we told my poor parents, but we’d figure that out.

  “You may thank me properly,” he said, with a deep, sinful voice, “after we’ve retrieved the chalice.”

  “But it’s going to work, right?”

  “Of course,” he said, sounding almost offended that I would doubt him.

  “God, I love you.” I couldn’t believe it. After all the pain I’d gone through trying to let go, I would get Justin back. No, he wouldn’t be without his baggage and issues, but it was all anyone could ask for: a second chance. And with King by my side, I had no doubt in my mind that we would set Justin straight. We would fix him.

  “However, first we will need to break him,” King said, reading my thoughts.

  I blinked. “Did you say ‘break’ him?”

  King grinned and then shrugged. “Sorry. Old habits die hard.”

  “Let’s just leave the breaking and torture in the past.”

  “If we must.” He reached and nuzzled my neck. “But then you’ll have to give me some other way to occupy my time.”

  With pleasure, my King. “Right after we go diving.”

  THE END

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Hi All!

  Welcome to the end of the book! I hope you enjoyed the King Trilogy. And before anyone asks, I am thinking about writing a story for Mack. No firm decision on that yet, though, as I already have so many exciting books planned for 2015 (revealed in the back of this book!).

  Anyway, with each and every book I write for you, my goal is always to surprise. (It’s not easy! You folks read a lot of dang books!) To do this, sometimes I create characters who may leave you feeling conflicted. Sometimes, I create characters you downright want to strangle. (“No, stupid! Don’t go down into the basement! What are you thinking?!!) But one of my biggest thrills as a writer is getting the reader to change their minds about a character they hate as the real pieces fall into place. (Remember Chaam from Accidentally…Evil?) But even better is when a reader takes a leap of faith and continues reading when all seems hopeless. Hopefully, in the end, the story leaves you smoking a mental cigarette and wondering what the hell just happened. But in a good way.

  I want to thank each and every reader who trusted me and came along for this journey. I hope you enjoyed the ride.

  HAPPY READING!

  Mimi

  P.S. Want to listen to the music I had piping into my ears while writing this book? Here you go! Get out those hankies!

  ~~~

  PLAY LIST

  “Goodbye My Lover” by James Blunt

  “Changing” by Airborne Toxic Event

  “Black Sheep” by Gin Wigmore

  “Wise Up” by Aimee Mann

  “If Only” by Gin Wigmore

  “Hold the Line” by Pilot Speed

  “Bluff” by Pilot Speed

  “Do You Feel Me” by Anthony Hamilton

  “Feelings” by Maroon 5

  “Unkiss Me” by Maroon 5

  “Save me” by Aimee Mann

  “My Heart is Open” by Maroon 5

  “Be Still” by the Killers

  “Won’t Go Home Without You” by Maroon 5

  “Take Me to Church” by Hozier.

  “Happy Ever After” by Gin Wigmore.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A HUGE thank you to the folks who helped get this book out the dang door! (It was a tough one.) Vicki Randall (Oh look! I made you read another one! LOL), Dalitza Morales (I so love your OCD tendencies), and authors Kylie Gilmore and Elizabeth James (Thanks for taking time out of your busy writer schedules!).

  Also, I really need to recognize the folks who put so much effort into the production part of this series: Su at Earthly Charms (awesome cover!), Stef at Writeintoprint.com (please don’t EVER retire, you’re the best), and the ladies who provided multiple layers of awesome editing—Latoya Smith (I miss you!), Tessa Shapcott (I hope that wasn’t too painful?) and Pauline Nolet (Did I seriously misspell that word? Oh Lord.).

  AND…my guys. As always, you rock.

  CHECK OUT OTHER MIMI JEAN TITLES

  FATE BOOK TWO

  COMING DECEMBER 2014

  BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR…

  Despite every bad guy in the world wanting her dead, nineteen-year-old Dakota Dane believes she’s finally found her “happy ever after.” Until Prince Charming (aka her hot Italian bodyguard) bolts from the church two minutes before the wedding.

  Was it something she said?

  Dakota doesn’t know, but she’s not about to let him off the hook. Because he loves her and she loves him.

  Right?

  But when Dakota finally catches up to Mr. Cold Feet, she’ll find herself wishing she’d let him go when she had the chance.

  IMMORTAL MATCHMAKERS, INC.

  COMING SPRING 2015!

  BECAUSE…dysfunctional immortals need love, too.

  ANDRUS

  Once the most powerful immortal assassin ever to exist, this demigod now spends his days pining for the girl who got away: Helena. Doesn’t help that he’s also Helena’s full-time nanny slash bodyguard. But now that
the apocalypse is over and her husband, the vampire general, has returned home for good, it’s time to move on.

  But can Andrus let go of the woman he secretly loves?

  Cimil, Goddess of the Underworld and owner of Immortal Matchmakers, Inc., knows the solution is finding another gal. The right gal. But getting a woman to date this callous, unrefined, cold-hearted warrior will prove to be the biggest challenge of her existence. Good thing they’re in L.A.

  When aspiring actress Sadie Townsend finds herself one week away from being thrown out on the street, the call from her agent is like a gift from heaven. But when she learns the job is teaching the world’s biggest barbarian how to act like a gentleman, she wonders if she shouldn’t have asked for more money. He’s vulgar, uncaring, and rougher around the edges than a serrated bread knife. He’s also sexy, fierce, and undeniably tormented.

  Will Sadie help him overcome his past, or will she find her heart hopelessly trapped by a man determined to self-destruct?

  COMING 2015!

  Don’t miss new release updates. Sign up for Mimi’s mailing list!

  www.mimijean.net

  “Woman, we are not fish. We are men. Mer. Men. Get used to it.”

  FORGET EVERYTHING you’ve ever heard, and get ready to learn what real MEN are made of…

  ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE WITH…A GOD? excerpt

  (The Accidentally Yours Series, Book One.)

  The entire series is now available!

  ~~~

  CHAPTER ONE

  Present Day

  Wasn’t dating supposed to be fun? Because this was anything but. At any moment, a man I’d never met—approximately six foot three, brown hair, and soul-piercing blue eyes, according to his online profile—would walk through the door of the Conga Lounge, give his name to the hostess, and scream hysterically at the sight of me. Okay. He wouldn’t scream…aloud, anyway. Not that I was heinous, but anyone who looked closely enough might notice I was…different.

  I eyeballed the door, contemplating a mad dash before he arrived.

  No, you can do this, I thought while staring at the condensation channeling down my glass of water, my leg bouncing under the table. Why had my date picked a corny-themed bar that looked like Gilligan’s Island threw up? What sort of man goes novelty on the first date?

  Bad sign. Bad sign.

  At least the other patrons seated around the faux torch-lit room, leisurely sipping Bahama Mamas and mai tais, were oblivious to my impending meltdown.

  I felt the gentle whoosh of summer evening air as the door swung open, and the noise from the traffic-packed New York street poured in. A tall man with sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and tousled brown hair floated inside—yes, floated—as if he’d ridden in on a cloud straight from Hot Man Land. He wore a black, polished cotton shirt, which hugged his well-constructed chest, and low-slung jeans that molded to his lean physique. He wasn’t just good-looking, he was Milan runway edible.

  “Oh, sweet Virgin of Guadalupe, please be Jake,” I muttered under my breath.

  Like a cliché from a movie, our eyes met from across the room, and his face lit up with a dimple-framed smile. My heart nearly stopped. “Thank you, Virgin,” I said, releasing my breath.

  He strutted across the restaurant, a magnet for every female in the room.

  “Emma?” he said in a deep, slow-churned voice, then smiled and held out his hand. I stood up in a daze, mentally pinching myself.

  “You are Emma, right? Curly, shoulder-length, red hair, five three. Several crazed female stalkers for best friends?”

  Oh no. What had my roommates done? Since the whole online-blind-date thing was their idea, they assured me they’d carefully “screened” the guy. But I thought they were just joking about breaking into his apartment and rummaging through his underwear drawer. And dammit, they hadn’t even bothered to dish.

  Tighty-whities or boxers?

  I looked down at his outstretched hand. Oh, shoot. Shake hands. “Sorry, it’s just—I wasn’t expecting someone so…” I swallowed and placed my palm in his. It was warm and inviting, like his eyes. “Um…so tall.”

  “And I wasn’t expecting a woman so”—he paused to look me over like a dog eyeing a giant juicy steak—“adorable.”

  “Adorable?” said the deep male voice inside my head. “What kind of moron compliments a woman with the word adorable? Does he think you’re a goddamned puppy?”

  Couldn’t I have one, just one lousy day without the voice? My blood began to boil instantly, but I resisted the urge to snap back with something lame like, “Well, maybe Jake senses I want to lick him from head to toe. Maybe even have a go at his leg.” But then I thought better of myself. Because tonight, I was on a mission, and nothing would stop me from climbing my own mental Mount Everest: convince myself that I, Emma Keane, could feel attraction for a real live man with ten fingers, ten toes, arms and legs, and the other necessary, dangly bits needed to make a relationship normal. All I needed was the right man.

  The catch?

  The other person I had to prove this to wasn’t exactly a person. Okay, truth be told, he was a mysterious voice only I could hear. Yes, a luscious, deep, velvety voice so intriguing and seductive it could turn me into a quivering mindless puddle of need with one little sigh. I couldn’t get enough of it. Sound crazy? That wasn’t the half of it. But it was why I had to do this. If I wanted a shot at normal, I had to take this first step and break this annoying, lifelong addiction.

  Jake and I held hands for several moments before we sank into our wicker seats. “You must be Jake.” Stupid statement, I know, but I had forgotten all of the witty icebreakers I’d painstakingly memorized.

  He nodded and continued smiling.

  “So.” I paused, trying to think of something clever to say. It didn’t happen. “My friends, they didn’t do anything crazy, did they?” Other than a felony B and E?

  Jake shook his head. “Aside from having me followed? No. They just sent an e-mail making it clear they’d remove both my testicles if I did anything wrong.”

  I cringed inside, but at least he didn’t know about the home invasion.

  “With a dull spoon,” Jake added.

  The voice snickered. “I’ve changed my mind. I now officially approve of your friends.”

  Jake continued, lowering his voice, “I’m glad I came. I thought your profile might have been exaggerating your looks. It didn’t.”

  “What a cretin. You’re not falling for this crap, are you, Emma?”

  I felt my temper percolating, but I hung on. “Thanks,” I said to Jake and then looked down at my hands.

  “I hope you like this place.” He opened up the piña colada–shaped menu. “The food, I hear, is tiki-licious.”

  “Right. That’s it. This date…is over!”

  Percolate went to boiling over. “Jake, I’ll be right back.”

  “Um, okay,” I heard him say as I stomped off to the bathroom. I slammed the door shut and checked the two small stalls.

  Empty.

  “You giant turd! You promised you wouldn’t talk!” I hissed. “Not a peep.”

  “Well, that was before…”

  “Before what?”

  There was a cricket-worthy pause.

  “Fine. You listen to me, Guy.” That was my latest name for him since he’d never shared his real one. “We had a deal. You promised you’d behave—”

  “And you swore on your soul you’d pull the plug if I said so.”

  “Oh, no, no, my friend.” I shook my finger at the air, even though he couldn’t see me. “I said I’d end the date if you sensed anything wrong.”

  “Yes, and he’s clearly deranged.”

  “Deranged?” I barked. “You’re un-bel-ievable! He’s said two words—”

  “Eighty-five. Or was it eighty-seven? Hell, it doesn’t matter. I knew on word three there was something…off.”

  “Oh my God! You’re completely full of it!” Hiccup! Hiccup! “Great. See what you did? My ni
ght is ruined.” Hiccup!

  “Do you have a paper bag?” he asked.

  I continued hiccuping uncontrollably. “No. Doesn’t exactly go with my new dress.” Hiccup. “Besides.” Hiccup. “That only works for hyperventilating. I’m working up to that next.”

  “New dress?” he asked, his tone a notch above angry. “You didn’t wear the new green dress, did you? The tight one that shows every curve and ‘makes a man instantly hard,’ as your friend Anne so eloquently stated?”

  The door to the restroom swung open. The woman gave me a nod as she went into one of the stalls.

  Christ! I’d forgotten my wireless headset. Again. Without it, I looked like another New Yorker one step away from a Repent Now! sandwich sign. I scrounged through my matching satin evening bag and popped on my prop.

  “Answer me! Did you wear the dress? After I expressly prohibited it?”

  Should I tell him I secretly wish he could see me in it? No. No! What am I thinking? He could never know what went on inside my head; he’d only use my feelings against me. I hiccuped three times in quick succession. “Yes! I wore it, and it looks fabulous. You should see all the men walking around with colossal erections from looking at me!”

  Just then, the woman emerged from the stall and scampered out of the bathroom. She didn’t even bother to wash her hands. Ewww, I thought.

  “You play with fire, little girl.”

  “No! You play with…” I couldn’t think of anything meaty to say. “Uuuh…fire. I’m going out there, and I’m going to finish this date whether you like it or not. And if you make one more peep, just one more, you’re going to…uh…get burned!” I so need to work on my threat technique. “Got it?”

 

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