Kiss, Kiss Killian

by Anna Antonia

  Slow breath in, hold it, slow breath out. Times five.

  “It’s not necessary. Again, get me a card, cash, or go with me.”

  “Stingy!” Killian tapped his chin with one manicured finger. “Very well. You probably don’t even have a credit card. Or if you do, it’s probably maxed out. So silly of me.” He reached into his pocket while tutting, “Really, Lucy Martin. You must think more of your financial future.”

  I caught the money clip a second later. It was at least an inch thick. A company credit card lay on top of crisp $100 bills. I hadn’t seen this much money since my rougher days. I stared at it like a snake ready to strike. Time didn’t make it any easier to shake off the instinct that this kind of cash didn’t bring danger and destruction with it.

  “You got a lot of money there, Miss Lucy. Whatever are you going to do? Perhaps not come back? That would be a nice outcome, hmm?”

  That silky tone punched right through my darker memories. I threw them back into the closet where they belonged. Life was different now. Better.

  I didn’t have to be scared.

  “Okay then. I don’t know how long I’ll be to get all this, but I’ll do whatever it takes to have your list complete before the end of the day.”

  “I simply love that enthusiasm!” Killian strolled back to his board, effectively dismissing me.

  Staring at the back of his dark head, I wondered if I needed to inform the elder Mr. King of my morning and probable afternoon.

  Maybe not. He might order me to stay. None of us would win in that scenario.

  I reached the door when Killian’s smooth voice slinked about my ears like a playful cat. “Oh and, Miss Lucy? Jorge will drive you wherever you need to go.”

  That was…unexpected. Kind even. I assumed I’d be riding the train and figuring out how to bring back his haul without ‘losing’ some of it in transit because of sticky fingers.

  He already thought ahead. Nothing generous about the offer. Not yet. That and he doesn’t trust me.

  “Thank you.”

  Killian’s arm lifted, marker poised to begin its magic. “Don’t forget to bring me the receipts.”

  See? Not nice.

  I suspected Killian was getting me back for yesterday’s lunch. Although he’d been in a pleasant mood when he returned. Why did he hold a grudge?

  Petty. Definitely petty.

  More than ever, I was convinced Killian didn’t need or even want any of the things on his illustrious list. He hadn’t demanded this kind of pampering so far.

  Why now?

  Simply to prove he was the boss and I was the puppet dancing to his tune.

  If he wanted to be spoiled, petty, and childish—fine. I’d get every single thing on his list and then…what?

  Rub it in his face.

  That was a good enough reason for me. By the time I got downstairs, Jorge stood in the lobby. His friendly greeting went a long way to ease my resentment.

  “Hello, Miss Lucy—”

  “Oh, just Lucy is fine.”

  A smile crinkled the corners of his chocolate brown eyes. “Lucy, Mr. King told me to drive you to pick things up. Where would you like to go first?”

  I doubted I’d find the caviar anywhere close. The more I looked at the list, the more I believed Killian had just sent me on a convoluted treasure hunt.

  There’s lots of other ways to get under my skin. Of course, he’d find the one thing I hated more than anything—shopping.

  I was beginning to think Killian had an innate sense of knowing exactly how to enrage any given person walking the planet. Showing Jorge the odious list, I asked, “Do you know where Mr. King likes to get some of this stuff?”

  He peered at the paper fisted in my hand. “Sorry. I can’t say I do.”

  Further proof in my book that Killian cooked this up just to waste my time. He probably put stuff on here that I couldn’t buy in person. All so I’d fail.

  Devil. Brat.

  “Okay. That’s what Google is for. Let’s start at Macy’s.”

  Killian King had another thing coming if he thought I’d buckle beneath the weight of his consumer excess.

  He was about to learn exactly who Lucy Martin really was.

  13

  KILLIAN

  Five hours later and the little goddess still hadn’t returned to her perch.

  Was I annoyed by it? The word wasn’t strong enough.

  Angry? Not even close.

  Centuries of Austrian breeding melted beneath the blistering heat of an enraged Cuban male as I gripped the handle to pull open the grimy glass door separating me from my wayward goddess.

  The first hour was fun. I imagined Lucy going from shop to shop, increasingly growing frustrated when certain items were on backorder. (So unfortunate! I guess I shouldn’t have bought out the stock…)

  The second hour was delicious. Jorge kept me in the loop. I restrained myself from asking him to send me video when he shared Lucy was arguing with the clerk over a discrepancy between what the online inventory stated and the store computer showed.

  The third hour was not quite as entertaining. Lucy’s dogged pride didn’t waver like I’d hoped. By that point, she should’ve been ready to call for mercy.

  Nothing. Not even when I buzzed her with a terse, “What’s taking you so long?”

  Infuriatingly, she kept her cool. “I’m almost done, Mr. King. Would you like me to bring you back a late lunch?”

  I damned well almost added a hundred other things. She wasn’t supposed to sound so…unaffected…by running around and looking for shit that was as useless as my petty game.

  I didn’t need anything on the list. That wasn’t the point.

  The point was to irritate Lucy, make her want to quit, and then reel her back in with stingy praise. Twisted? Un poquito. A little bit. Nothing too bad.

  However, Lucy wasn’t cooperating.

  I’d miscalculated and that didn’t happen to me. Fucking with people was my specialty. I always knew exactly where to slip the verbal blade to get the maximum effect.

  Rage, pain, frustration, desolation…whatever.

  Lucy saw me as a nasty, spoiled brat. The task alone should’ve made her ego throw a fit. But to calmly ask me if I wanted her to take care of me further?

  Fuck. No.

  “Hurry the hell up and no, thank you!”

  By hour four I’d been fuming. Fun left the building and Jorge wasn’t helping matters.

  “Sorry, Boss. Miss Lucy got a tip about the headphones. She needs to go to Jersey for them.”

  The hell she did! My plan backfired and it was time to retreat. I’d attack again later. What I needed was for my little Lucy to bedevil me here.

  “Jorge, do not take her to Jersey. That’s an order.”

  “Sorry, Boss. We’re about to pull up to the place.”

  “How close?”

  “In less than twenty.”

  “Turn around.”

  “Sorry, Boss. This is the last thing on her list. I’ll go in with her. We’ll be back in two.”

  “I want you back now!”

  “Sorry, Boss.”

  Why didn’t he sound sorry? Had Lucy conquered my driver and bodyguard right under my nose?

  No. Not about happen.

  That was how I pressed upon a favor, borrowed a helicopter, and tracked my watchdog down to this seedy pawnshop all within a half hour.

  Oh, are you going to get it, Lucy! Just you wait.

  I slammed open the door. Lucy whirled around, gorgeous mouth open and staring at me in obvious shock. I barely spared Jorge any attention and the three goons got none.

  “Whatever you’re doing in this shithole has come to an end. We’re leaving.”

  The apparent leader of said shithole, who had more muscle than neck, remained seated. He looked me up and down before crossing his meaty arms. “Money first. I came through for your lady there and she’s got to come through for me.”

  “No.”

  “Yes
.”

  Now I was ready to kick the shit out of these three assholes because they couldn’t get it through their thick skulls that they’d just lost Lucy as a client.

  “Jorge?”

  He nodded, instantly ready to back me up. The other men sensed it too. They bowed up, sending aggressive shockwaves through the dingy, poorly lit space.

  Lucy reached my side in a flash. “I’ve got this.”

  Her harsh whisper had as much effect on me as a fly. An annoying, beautiful, hard-headed fly.

  I gave the merchandise a contemptuous glance. “This is a bootleg. She’s not paying you shit.”

  “Mr. King!” Lucy tugged on my coat, doing her best to slide up in front. I moved my arm, effectively blocking her behind me.

  Chairs scraped and three furious Russian men of questionable background stood up.

  “You’re calling me a liar, suka?”

  My Russian was pretty much nonexistent, but I knew just enough to know that asshole called me a bitch. That fucking burned it!

  “I’m saying your merchandise is garbage. It’s not worth a dollar much less whatever you convinced her to pay, hijo de puta.”

  Yeah, he damned well understood that, didn’t he?

  “Killian, stop it! Please!” Lucy forced her way around me. “Look, I’m sorry, fellas. My man is pissed at me because I was supposed to be back hours ago. It’s my fault really. I know how he just can’t stand letting me out of his sight for more than ten minutes. Let’s just finish our deal. Here’s eight and two more for your trouble.”

  Blocking her again, I gritted out, “He’s not getting a dime, Lucy. Understand that now.”

  “Baby, mi amor, don’t be mad at me. I just had to have these. You said you’d get me whatever I wanted for my birthday. And I want this. I’ll make it up to you…promise.”

  Lucy’s sultry coo froze every male in the room and probably got us all just as hard. At least it did me.

  My hooded stare didn’t break away. Not when she smiled and took another step towards me. Not even when she slid her arms around my shoulders. Tugging me down, Lucy whispered against my neck. “Don’t mess this up. You have to understand that you can’t roll up in their hood and then back out of a deal. He came through for me and now he’s going to get paid. That’s how it works here, got it?”

  Just who was this woman and how come I was only meeting her now?

  Lucy draped her arm around my waist while using her free hand to play with my shirt buttons. “Do we have a deal?”

  My dick was not in charge. My vocal cords seizing up had nothing to do with the small hand drifting over my stomach…

  The main prick barely turned away from her to glare at me. Asshole was still interested in getting me to back down. But greed had its way.

  “Five more.”

  Lucy shrugged. “Three.”

  “Five.”

  “Three and you get this.” She let go of me to pull out a tin of my Beluga caviar from her purse and held it up.

  “Da.”

  Fucker’s eyes lit up like a floodlight. I was about to snatch her bribe when she laid it on the glass counter along with the cash. “Are we done here?”

  “Go.”

  That rankled me enough to undo all her work. Lucy rubbed my back and got on tip-toe to kiss me on the cheek. “Thank you so much, mi amor!”

  Truly, who was this creature? She looked at me as if I was everything she ever wanted. I knew she was simply playing a part, unnecessary in my opinion, but I soaked it up. I wanted Lucy to play with me more.

  No. I wanted to play with her.

  Suddenly lifting Lucy up, I kissed the scheming goddess square on the mouth. “You’ll definitely make it up to me. I promise you that.”

  It was just a tiny kiss, innocent really, but the contact was enough to knock me on my ass. A sweet bonus? The shock on Lucy’s face. It was almost payment enough for the hell she put me through.

  Almost.

  Dry, raspy chuckles interrupted whatever she might’ve said or done.

  “Take care of your man, kotyonok. Enjoy the merchandise.”

  I put Lucy down in a flash, pushing her behind me. Rage throttled through my veins. “What did you call her?”

  One of muscle neck’s younger henchmen meowed. “Kitten.”

  Lucy swiped the headphones off the counter before pulling me by the arm. “Thanks for everything, fellas. Come on, Killian. I’m ready to go.”

  This didn’t set well with me. It felt too much like retreat and I didn’t come all this way to retreat. Clarification. I agreed to retreat for Lucy. Not for these Russians.

  But what was I going to do? Get into a fight with three assholes and possibly get Lucy hurt in the process?

  But damn! I hated for these pricks to think they’d won. Scratch. They did win. They got my money and my goddamned caviar.

  Yet, I got Lucy call me her man, mi amor, and a kiss. A delicious kiss that I can still taste.

  True.

  But there was no way to leave gracefully, which was why Lucy ended up dragging me out, Jorge following, even while I kept glaring at the Russian trio. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. The angrier I got, the slower I walked.

  They had a lot of goddamn nerve, summoning my little goddess all the way out here to sell her shitty merchandise. Fuckers.

  Lucy kept me somewhat moving by pressing her luscious form against me until we were all out on the sidewalk. If she’d done it on purpose, I would’ve stalled out of spite. Kiss or not, I was still me. But Lucy was oblivious.

  I wasn’t sure if I liked that or not. My ego wouldn’t be able to take knowing a novice had this much power over my intellect, will, and body.

  So I had no choice but to strike out. Snidely. Why? Again, because I was still me.

  “Nice negotiation skill there, Miss Lucy.”

  “Hey, don’t start with me. You almost got us jumped.”

  “Us? What ‘us’? There’s me and Jorge. We would’ve handled them easily.”

  Lucy’s sour look didn’t help to smooth my feathers at all. She squeezed my arm and muttered, “You’re unbelievable.”

  “No, baby. That’s my line.” When she didn’t respond, I pressed deeper. “You really came out on top there, Miss Martin. In fact, I don’t think you paid them enough. Why don’t you just go back and give him my Macallan while you were at it? I’m assuming you did get it?”

  “Yes, I got it. They aren’t the sherry type.”

  “I’m sure their blood runs vodka clear.”

  Lucy let go of my arm and quickened her stride.

  “Got any other items on the list still? Got a connection in the sewer? No? How about at the docks? We can mosey onto a ship heading into pirate-infested waters. It’ll be fun.”

  “You’re not funny!” she yelled over her shoulder.

  “Not trying to be.”

  Blood boiling—for a different reason straining south of my belt—I was grateful that we arrived at the SUV. I had plenty more to say and I wasn’t about to yell it on the sidewalk.

  Lucy’s crossed arms and fuming posture wasn’t enough to keep me from helping her inside. The feel of her slim waist distracted me for a bit. I followed immediately, waiting until my idiot driver got behind the wheel.

  All of this could’ve been avoided by contacting me first. Jorge should’ve known that when I put him in charge of driving Lucy, I did it so he could keep watch over her. Not to become an accomplice to her foolishness.

  Silence became my weapon. I used it until we’d put ten minutes and forty-four seconds between us and that maldito pawnshop.

  “Jorge, I’m holding you responsible for this. Your primary objective was not to let Miss Martin lead you by the nose. You were to keep her safe and tonight you failed.”

  He stared straight ahead, no words in his defense. The slight nod he gave was acknowledgement of his fuck up. Good enough.

  A sharp gasp to my left came before “Don’t blame him. It’s not his fault.
”

  Just what I needed. Turning to Lucy with an evil grin, I purred, “Oh, don’t you worry. I’m holding you responsible too.”

  “Then you better make room on that list, Mr. King, because you’re the main person to blame.”

  “Excuse you?”

  Lucy shifted, turning her legs so that they almost brushed mine. “The only reason we were down here was because you needed those headphones. Today. No one else carried them and I came through. You’re welcome.”

  What. The. Hell?

  “Pull over.”

  I didn’t have to look over to see Lucy’s bravado crumbled. Good.

  The SUV glided to a smooth stop. Suburbia sidewalks, nice little shops, only a few people out and about. Good.

  “Get out.”

  Lucy lifted her chin, pride burning a march right between us. “Fine.” She slid across the seat and reached for the handle closest to her and popped it open. I guess crawling over me wasn’t an option. No matter.

  Jorge quickly opened his door.

  “No. You stay here.” His disapproval stunk up the air, but I didn’t care. Besides, I’d changed my mind. Jorge wasn’t going to be privy to what I had to say to my defiant goddess after all.

  That was our business. Not his.

  Lucy already covered enough distance that I had to jog to catch her. Pulling her by the arm, I asked in a somewhat calm voice, “Where are you going?”

  She whipped her head towards me, eyes burning like coals. “Finding a way to get home. Or did you think I was going to live in Trenton now?”

  “If only I was so lucky.”

  Lucy yanked her arm hard. I tightened my grip fractionally. She was insane if she thought I’d let her go.

  “You told me to get out. I did. Just like you told me to get everything on your list. Guess what? I did.”

  “Except you gave away my caviar.”

  Her cold smile belied the fury rising in her gaze. “That’s why I bought two tins.”

  “To give to the Russians? My, my. Aren’t you prepared?”

  “Always when it comes to getting the job done.”

  Lucy clearly had no guilt about what she put me through. Zero. I couldn’t believe it.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Don’t play dumb, Lucy. My patience ran out as soon as I walked into that shithole.”