by Anna Antonia
I couldn’t be blamed for what I did next. Truly.
Blowing out a long breath, I abruptly stood up. Lucy’s gaze jumped to mine, full of wariness. That wouldn’t do. Sauntering over to her, I watched this little goddess stand her ground.
Of course, she would. She was stubborn past the point of self-preservation.
I stopped just inches away from her. Hands tucked in pockets, I slouched just enough to make it look like every muscle in my body wasn’t tightly coiled.
Lies.
Staring into her moonless gaze, I suffered that strange jolt once again. What was this damnable feeling? I wanted to touch Lucy’s skin, to learn if it was indeed as soft as it looked.
To understand if this awareness was simply a by-product of my broken mind or actually real…
“You hate it here, Lucy Martin, as much as I hate you being here. Why stay? There’s so many other places in the world you could see. Especially if I quadruple your pay.”
“I don’t hate it here.”
“Don’t!” I wagged one finger in warning. “Don’t lie to me. I don’t take well to lying. Even small ones. You can tell me to fuck off, even do it with a smile on your face, but don’t lie about it. Understand? Tell me you do.”
Lucy’s breathing hitched. She stared at my finger before fixating her attention on my mouth. “I’m not lying. I don’t hate it here.”
“Really?” My drawl broke her fixation. Pity. I rather enjoyed it.
“Really.” She shook her head, blinking several times as if waking up. “I like my work.”
“Your work. Hmm…I didn’t take you for a snitch.”
“I’m not a snitch!” Her brows snapped over her eyes, furrowing two deep lines. Now we were getting somewhere.
I scored another hit. Kicked over another rock. It didn’t take much to deduce I’d raked Lucy Martin’s underbelly deeply. That I touched her past again.
Smirking, I shrugged as if I hadn’t noticed. “What do you like about being here then? Following me around like a dog? Dealing with my nasty personality? Knowing you’re completely unwelcome in this office? What?”
Lucy’s fists curled and uncurled twice before relaxing. Mad as it may have been, in this moment I’d have given up half my inheritance to know the thoughts zipping through her curious mind.
“I like helping.”
My good humor disappeared. “You’re not helping me at all.”
“I know.” Her chin shot straight up. “But I will.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who craved a challenge. Too bad for her because she picked the wrong one.
“Oh, Little Lucy…”
My chuckles faded as I stepped closer. This could turn out well or be a disaster. I couldn’t wait to find out which. Frankly, at this point, I didn’t even care much.
Anything was better than the indeterminably boring passage of time I suffered pre-Lucy.
My arms slipped around her curvaceous body. She jerked forward as if I tugged on a string. I settled my chin on her shoulder until my lips touched the delicate shell of her ear.
This close I could smell her perfume. Something light. Cherry blossoms. Orchids. A hint of jasmine.
Sweet. Innocent.
“You won’t win, Little Lucy. I’m who I am and I have zero interest in changing.”
“I don’t believe that. You and I both know you’re just saying that to discourage me, to make me quit.”
“Am I? I wonder if you’re right…”
Finishing my sentence didn’t seem important. Not when I could kiss her ear, bite on the lobe, and feel every delightful shudder go through her body. Maybe more. That would be predictable.
Standing here wouldn’t.
The seconds slid into repetition. Lucy should’ve pulled away, bleating about professionalism and appropriate behavior. Maybe threatening a lawsuit or two. She seemed the type outwardly, starched as she was.
But she let me hold her.
Lucy’s flaw wasn’t hers alone. I liked the discovery.
Her body, no matter how much smaller, fit mine. Perfectly. Her curves softened my hardness. We could’ve stood there until the world disintegrated and I honestly didn’t think I’d mind.
Strange.
Dangerous.
Just as her hands gained courage to touch my sides, I shoved away. Taking precious seconds to compose myself, I schooled my features into their usual mocking mask. It didn’t appear easily as usual.
“Stay or come with us. I don’t really care.”
Lucy’s features smoothed over. Once again, she surprised me.
“Mr. King is waiting for you. I’ll be here when you get back.”
I wouldn’t have known her heart fluttered in her chest like a trapped moth if I hadn’t felt it. Or perhaps it wasn’t hers. I couldn’t tell over the sound of blood thundering in my ears.
“Suit yourself.” I stalked over to the door and then threw out, “Lunch is on me. I’ll have it brought up to you.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to—”
“Lucy—shut it.”
I left the room, pleased to have her obey me. If only because she was too surprised to have an appropriate comeback. Who cared? A win was a win.
And I won.
In a much better mood, I strolled to Grandfather’s suite and caught Martha before she left. “Are you off to lunch?”
“Yes. Need anything?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Can you have a meal brought to Lucy?”
Her button eyes sparkled with a disgusting amount of glee. I instantly regretted not taking care of the order myself. Lesson learned.
“You’re getting along with Lucy then?”
“Order the saltiest thing on the menu and send it to her. On second thought—spice. Make it the spiciest. I hear she hates it. Imagine that.”
I didn’t walk away fast enough to miss her disappointed frown. Hardly my fault. What did she expect? Asking me if I got along with Lucy was like asking a prisoner if they got along with their jailer.
Insanity.
Flinging open Grandfather’s door, I felt his sharp stare rake right over me.
“Apparently, we’re on for lunch. Right?”
Grandfather grunted. Lovely. It was exactly what I craved when in Gramps’s presence. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
“Very well. My mistake. I’m rather busy today so I’ll just see you later.”
“Sit down, Killian. We’re leaving in five.”
Rolling my eyes, I stalked towards an armchair. Really? What was the point of this? We didn’t do lunch. Or dinner. Or much of anything outside of the bare minimum when it came to work.
Unless Gramps was attempting to impress his newest protégé?
How repugnant.
Don’t forget infuriating.
Poisonous thoughts slinked about my ankles like evil cats, which was a shame considering how much I liked them. Originally, I’d thought Lucy was a gold digger who’d struck a deep vein in an old fool, but perhaps I was only half-right. Staring at Rafael King beneath a hooded glare, I wondered if he’d wanted Lucy to be more than a watchdog.
Dream on, Gramps. Not going to happen. Not as long as I have more than two brain cells bobbing about.
“Cast your ugly stare somewhere else, Killian. I have neither the patience or the time to deal with it.”
How did he always know? The old man had eyes in the back of his head!
“There’s nothing for you to deal with, Grandfather. I’m just being a good boy and waiting for my dear old grandfather. Maybe if I’m really good you’ll get me an ice cream cone?”
My words may have been mocking, but they couldn’t stop the real memories from lighting up to give me an unwanted dose of pain. Years ago, long before the antiseptic smell of hospitals dominated everything, Grandfather used to take me out once a week.
I was his special boy for a short time.
He’d pick me up in his r
ed Bentley, all gorgeous crème leather, and we’d go to the only place in the world I never got tired of exploring. The factory. Longtime employees called out my name, smiles on their faces as they patiently explained their jobs for the shift and what was coming next down the line.
It was no place for a child, but we were all careful. Me most of all. I couldn’t chance being clumsy and being locked out for my own good. Not when there was all this wondrous organized chaos taking place around me.
Vats full of pigment. Automated lines filling signature tubes of lipstick. Others depositing colorful circles into palettes, stamping each one with a rose.
Precise. Perfect.
“One day, when I’m gone, all of this will be yours. King to King.”
I’d look about the cavernous room, oversized coat on my little body and cap engulfing my head, and feel the pride of being Rafael King’s grandson and heir. His perfect boy. The one he entrusted with his kingdom.
I imagined my life as a grownup. Working hard to take care of all these people, so that King Cosmetics would live on for their families and mine. I couldn’t wait until I could come down to the floor and help when we got a larger than normal shipment for a chain of shops in Malaysia.
I had a big imagination back then. Back when I actually believed I had a choice in how my future unfolded.
The hours would fly by until it was time for us to leave. I wasn’t ashamed to admit I’d thrown a tantrum or two.
I was Ernesto’s helper. How else was he going to get the shipment checked if I wasn’t there to make sure all the packages were perfect? Or how was Helene going to make sure the Carina Crimsons weren’t mixed up with the Paulina Pinks when the line switched? And Martha. Who was going to help Martha with the packing slips?
Grandfather always had an ace up his sleeve. The promise I’d get to come back the next week, a delicious lunch now, and the best treat of all afterwards were enough for me to wipe my tears and leave our wonderland.
Ice cream cones with a Hershey’s Kiss at the bottom capped off those halcyon days.
Too bad everything always changed. Memories were all we had left and sometimes they served more as a torment than a comfort.
Gramps seemed to feel the same.
His mouth tightened into an unhappy line as he looked away from me. Bet he wished he could take back that promise. It was all right. I already knew he had no intention of leaving me anything.
In fact, he was going to live long enough for Timmy to grow up and take over.
Where that left me didn’t matter. Timmy was a real King while I was…something extraneous. My map was already written the moment of my conception.
After all, Prince Von Hügel wasn’t going to live forever either. Eventually, I was expected to take his title and all the bullshit that came with it.
I was on loan to Rafael King until then. And neither of us ever forgot it.
“Ready, Killian?”
No. I was never going to be ready for that. But for now I could pretend I was simply Killian King and I still had a kingdom inhabited by Carina Crimsons and Paulina Pinks.
Besides, there was Little Lucy. If I stretched things out, I’d be able to play with her puzzle for at least another week. The painful memories receded, leaving me with a foreign sense of anticipation for the future.
I stood up with a genuine smile. “Where do you want to eat today? Cuban I take it.”
Grandfather’s head rocked back a bit. He eyed me, expecting the other shoe to drop. “Are you okay?”
No. When was I ever? But for the life I lived, this was as close as it got.
“Never better, Gramps. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”
12
LUCY
“Oh, Lucy!” Killian bellowed à la Ricky Ricardo.
Popping up from my chair, I approached his desk with a neutral expression. As usual, he’d ignored my existence all morning, staring right through me and nearly walking through me as well a time or two or five.
“Yes?”
I was proud of myself for sounding perfectly pleasant. How did I manage that? Especially when people gave me a tenth of the attitude and got theirs? (Usually upside the head.)
First, he was too tall to smack on the back of the head. Second, he wasn’t younger than me. Third, he was my boss’s grandson. My ward of sorts. The person I was charged with helping. Changing.
Protecting.
It wasn’t about discipline. It was about earning his trust. (This I reminded myself every hour. So many, many times.)
Killian was used to those around him reacting badly to his nastiness. He expected it. Probably relished it too.
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I didn’t care how much attitude he gave me. I’d bite my tongue and act like I didn’t sweat it.
Sounded great. So great I nearly convinced myself. Except there was also a tiny detail I hadn’t squared away yet.
Killian made me angry. All. The. Time.
And yet, I didn’t give into my instinct to put him in his place. He wanted me to fight him. Every time I lost my temper, it gave him a victory. Maybe I was being petty too, but I didn’t want to him to have it.
Not over me.
So I bit my tongue. Over and over again until I’d swear I tasted blood.
That could only work for so long. Then I’d explode.
And feel guilt and shame for letting my emotions get the best of me. More importantly? Letting Killian win.
I wasn’t quite sure how to go about succeeding at this task I’d given my solemn word I could do. Was I encouraging bad behavior by not nipping it in the bud? Or was I really earning his trust?
What was the right choice? This wasn’t like the kids on the block stealing a sandwich. Killian was wasting his life away, poisoning it daily with each ugly word and thought he acted upon.
And then what? Killian would’ve pushed everyone who meant anything away.
But how to help? I was right back at square one.
This amount of indecision wasn’t good for me. I liked knowing exactly where the lines were because I needed to color inside them. For sure. All I could go by was instinct and try my best.
“Hello, Miss Lucy. Where’d you go?”
I jerked back from the slim fingers snapping in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”
Killian shook his head, mouth pursed as if tasting something decadent. How did a man like this have such a perfect mouth? It was made for kissing…
Change the channel. Fast.
“So very nice of you to join me. Care to tell me what was so fascinating you were able to tune me out?”
No way was I going to tell him a thing! Not even upon the threat of death!
“I’m sorry. I had a late night and it’s catching up with me.” Partially true. I did help Mr. Luis with inventory until about midnight. (He couldn’t stay to the end because he had to be home in time to cook dinner for his grandkids. I was more than happy to help.) “What were you saying beforehand, Mr. King?”
“Late night…hmm…I bet.”
Killian’s mouth curved downwards into a hard line. His nostrils flared while his jaw popped. What made him mad…oh. Too late I realized what I’d implied.
How unprofessional! No wonder he was angry with me. As if I’d be so crass as to talk about personal things…but what else would he think? Killian didn’t know me other than as the woman meant to annoy him.
“No, not like that. I mean…just no.”
“None of my business, Miss Lucy.”
So he said, but my staccato words seemed to erase his frown. Killian suddenly smirked, eyes bright with spiteful glee.
“You’re just in luck. Nothing helps wake you up better than stretching your legs. I seem to be out of supplies today. I need you to track some things down for me.”
Killian handed me a sheet of paper. I scanned it. What. The. Heck? He had to be joking!
“You need these today.”
�
��Yes. ASAP.”
“I can arrange for—”
Killian held up his hand. “No. I trust no one but you to handle this for me.”
Yeah. Right. He wouldn’t even let me get him a bottle of water without complaining, but now he needed me to get him Beluga caviar, Montblanc pens, and twelve…thirteen…fourteen other items?
“Why do you need these now?”
“Because I do.”
Three words spoken as if I were dull-witted. My temper sparked. Killian didn’t truly need any of this. He was flexing power over me. That was all.
Slow breath in, hold it, slow breath out.
“Very well. I take it you’re coming too?”
He laughed. It would’ve been enchanting if there wasn’t a subtle note of cruelty. “Absolutely not. That’s what I have you for.”
The spark smoldered. Breathing techniques weren’t helping. “I’m not your PA.”
Killian’s playful grin remained in full force. “Yes, I know. I remind you of it at least once a day. However, today is different. I really, really need all these items to be at my best. Either you procure them for me or I go. And if I go…” He lifted his hands, palms up, and eloquently shrugged.
Message given and received.
“All right. You need to stay here and work, Mr. King.” Studying the list again, I hoped the majority of it could be found at Macy’s. The last thing I wanted or needed to do was run around town all day long. “You’ve got a company card for this, right?”
“It’s standard to reimburse.”
“Ah, no way. You either get me a card, give me enough cash, or go with me.”
If he balked, I’d have no problem taking this to Martha and seeing if she could help. Pride or not, I didn’t have the money to spare. I especially wasn’t going to dip into savings just so Killian could have Sennheiser headphones. (Never heard of them. Were they German? What was wrong with Beats? I would’ve loved a pair of those.)
Killian laughed smoothly. Too smoothly.
“There was something Gramps dangled in front of you… Oh, how could I forget? Wait. No, no. Ah, I remember. A signing bonus. Use that.”
“No.”
“Check hasn’t been deposited yet? I wonder what the holdup is? Hmm…I could always ask him for you.”
