by Anna Antonia
I told myself for the millionth time it was all part of a greater plan, one designed to prove to Killian he could trust me in his world, that I wasn’t a threat to him or his secrets. Eventually, he’d stop seeing me as the enemy, regardless of how I came into his life, and see I just wanted to help him as one human being to another.
That was true.
But the whole truth was I didn’t want to deny him. I wanted to make him happy because his daily unhappiness had eaten a hole right through me.
My compassion could end up being my downfall.
We pulled up in front of a high rise. I looked out the window, not recognizing the building but guessing it was a residence considering the doorman out front. Either that or a boutique hotel.
Suspicion colored my harsh whisper. “Where are we?”
Killian didn’t give me a mocking grin as was his habit. He remained solemn, watchful. “My place.”
“What!”
“Easy, Lucy. I didn’t bring you here to debauch you on the floor.”
Imagination had a way with me. That wasn’t going to help right now.
“Then why am I here?”
“Your favor, remember? It’s easier to have a rack of dresses brought up instead of going to a shop. Less attention. More privacy.”
Suspicion wouldn’t go away. “Privacy for what?”
He rolled his eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m not going to watch you get undressed, Lucy. The privacy is for you. I assumed you’d feel more comfortable dress shopping without an audience.”
I would.
This level of thoughtfulness moved me, melting right through my wariness. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now will you get out of the car or are you going to make Jorge stand there all damned day?”
My goodwill cracked. Narrowing my eyes, I charged, “You can be so annoying, Killian.”
“Back at ya, babe.” He snapped his fingers. “Let’s go.”
“Annoying brat—I’m not a dog.”
“No, you’re not. You’d be obedient if you were.”
“Killian—”
“Boring.” Killian lifted me up and out of the vehicle. I caught Jorge biting back a smile.
“Must you always have your way?”
“Yes, I must.” Killian bent down until his lips grazed my ears. “Don’t forget you made a deal with the devil. The devil always gets his due. Today you’re mine.”
Delicious shivers danced across my skin. It was difficult to argue when I simply wanted to lean against him. “You’re not the devil.”
Killian stood back up to his full height. He shook his head as if I’d said something silly. “Oh querida, you are so wrong about that.”
He was probably right. It was hard to know when his beauty was so unfair. It swayed me more than it should. Biting my lip, I pretended Killian wasn’t tempting me to become his docile pet for the day.
“If you’re trying to scare me—it won’t work.”
His arresting eyes bored into mine. Killian reached out and carefully brushed one finger down my cheek. “Why ever would I want to scare you, Lucy? I want you to like me.”
“I do.”
He smiled, a thing of rare beauty. “You don’t. Not enough. At least, not yet. But you will.”
“Pride before the fall.”
Killian took me by the hand. “We’ll fall together then, won’t we?”
It sounded like a curse.
We were greeted, rather Killian was greeted and I received respectful nods. No curiosity. It didn’t take long for me to figure out why.
Killian made it a habit to bring women over.
That was none of my business. I had no right or reason to judge him. To care. Unfortunately, it was a bloodbath between my reason and emotions.
Killian inserted a key into the elevator, private by the looks of it. He waved me ahead with a courtly bow. Stepping in, I looked around and wondered how often someone else stood here.
Change the channel, Lucy. You don’t have the right to watch.
True. But I cared because I was jealous.
Killian brushed a fingertip across my cheek. “What are you thinking about, Lucy?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
It was a hard thing to smile when I felt like this. Sad. Wary. Frustrated.
“No, nothing.”
“Hmm…somehow I’m not convinced.” Killian tapped his finger against my hot cheek and then dropped his hand. “You’ll tell me later.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Sure there isn’t.”
I was saved from lying further when the elevator opened up into Killian’s home. Simply put—it was magnificent. All glass, gild, and views that went on for miles.
An expectant air hung about Killian. Remembering my unbridled enthusiasm about the helicopter ride and how he reacted, I wasn’t quite sure if I should tell him what I really thought.
“It’s very nice.”
“Thank you.” Killian was all manners now. He indicated the leather sofa with a wave. “Please have a seat.”
Sinking into the buttery-soft tan cushion, I was surprised when Killian produced a box of chocolates. Richart Chocolates.
One glance confirmed it was a fresh box.
“What? You thought I put it on my list only to torment you?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Well, you’re wrong then, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
Killian smirked. “Go on. Taste a piece of heaven while I let Lanita know we’re here.”
The delicious sweet melted in my mouth even while the rest of me froze. Jealousy. Again. Wrong. Again.
“Don’t look at me like that, Lucy. You’ll like Lanita. After all, she’s going to help us play dress-up.”
“I’m sure I will.” Clearing my throat, I asked, “Is she a shopper?” I imagined she was and I imagined today wouldn’t be her first time over here.
“She’s a designer.” Gaze glued onto his phone, Killian asked, “Tell me what kind of clothes you like, Lucy.”
“Ones that cover me.”
He thought I was being obstinate if the eyeroll was any indication. I wasn’t. I really didn’t have a preference. Having a school full of girls tear apart every fashion choice you made did that to you.
Then with the rest of it…I became great friends with loose clothes.
“I know you love pant suits and skirts. What about dresses? Long, short, what?”
“Long. Definitely long.”
“Right. Nothing above the knee.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant, but I’d rather your ankles show if you don’t mind.”
“Maybe I do.”
Killian shrugged. “You agreed, Lucy. Need I remind you?”
“Be your Barbie. Right. How could I forget?”
“Indeed.”
Killian’s frown deepened as he continued to text. “What else is bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
He exhaled. “Let me guess. The fact I’m on a first-name basis with a designer makes you think I’ve played Barbie quite a bit. Correct?”
What was the point in lying? Killian pegged me straight.
“Correct.”
“You admit it. Surprising.” His fingertip danced across the screen. “No, I haven’t brought my women here and outfitted them. King Cosmetics and Lanita Taylor worked together on a society wedding, the one where Gabriel Gordon got married to Emma Adams. Hear anything about it?”
I didn’t keep up with the society pages and told him so.
Killian shrugged. “It was nice coup for the company. Emma had her pick of all the exclusive brands. Gramps didn’t think we should even approach the Gordons, but I had a feeling and it paid off.”
“What was the feeling?”
“That Emma Adams was as blue collar as they came. Definitely not a posh princess. Come to find out, her mom used our stuff and
it so happened that she did too. The future billionaire’s wife was more than happy to accept our sponsorship.”
“How did you even guess that about her?”
Killian threw me a lazy smirk. “There was no guess. I recognized her lipstick in their engagement photo.”
He impressed me the more I spent time with him. “How did Mr. King react when you landed their wedding?”
A frown settled on Killian’s handsome face. He set his phone carefully on the coffee table before turning his full attention on me. “Is that your question?”
“No.”
“Then I have nothing to say.”
Things got awkward between us. Enough so I regretted reminding Killian of his rocky relationship with Mr. King.
Quick to change the mood, I exclaimed, “That was a great move to take, Killian. Glad to hear it paid off.”
“Sales rose 14.3% for the quarter. Well worth it in my book. King Cosmetics became the face of romanticism. For a splash, at least.”
“Because of the wedding?”
“Because of the Gordons. Theirs was a real Cinderella story. Gabriel Gordon had loved Emma Adams since high school. They lost touch, reconnected, and got married pretty quickly. At least, that’s what he shared during her photo shoot.”
“That really is so romantic.”
He snorted. “Check back in ten years and see if the romance is still there. Gordon will probably be onto the second Mrs. Gordon leaving the first with their kids.”
“Cynic.”
“Realist.”
“I think they’ll last forever.”
“How can you be so sure when you didn’t even know they existed two minutes ago?”
“Because time and distance couldn’t stop their love. That’s why.”
Killian rolled his eyes, but kept his tongue still. That was something at least.
His phone rang. “Ah, here she is.” He got up with a cheerful grin and walked to the elevator.
“That was fast.”
“She was already here with the store. Just needed a bit of paring down for your tastes.” Killian sound cheerful without the usual underlying venom.
Too bad I wasn’t feeling nearly as cheerful.
Unsure of my place in things, I remained seated. Palms sweaty, I was about to be judged on what I wore and how I did my hair. This Lanita would take one look at me and see me for what I was—a gawky, twelve-year-old girl who never fit in anywhere.
And Killian was about to bear witness to my humiliation.
25
KILLIAN
I didn’t understand Lucy and yet understood her all too well.
She viewed this spoiling not with glee, but rather trepidation. Any other woman would’ve pushed her way forward, making claim on my home, arm, and wallet. Not Lucy.
She sat there, clearly forgetting she was a goddess gracing us with her presence. Not the other way around.
One day I’d have to teach her that.
Lanita, as lovely as ever, tilted her head back for a kiss of greeting. “How are you, Killian? Good I hope.”
“Very good. Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
“It’s my pleasure.” She peeped around my shoulder. “And there’s our lovely girl.”
Lanita floated past me, focus completely centered on Lucy. Her assistants fanned about, poised and ready to do their jobs at any moment. I shadowed her. I’d deny it later but I felt protective over Little Lucy.
She faced Russians with a coo and a smile, but was so afraid of the women whose very livelihood depended on pleasing her. Strange that.
Besides, didn’t she know I’d throw them all out in a second flat if they insulted her or purposely hurt her feelings in any way?
Lucy’s gaze flitted between us, wariness reaching out to choke me for a second before hiding behind a professional smile.
No, she didn’t know it at all. Bad Lucy.
“Hello! I’m Lanita. Killian has tasked me with helping you find a dress. I’m confident you’ll love so many of my choices you’ll find it difficult to pick just one.”
Clever Lanita.
I picked up my cue. “Whatever she wants.”
“Just the words I love to hear.”
And no, this did not come from Lucy.
What did come from her was “I’m not sure what Mr. King has shared about why I’m here, but a shopping spree isn’t on the list.”
“Lucy, never tell a designer that,” I cut in while gliding over to her side. My hands cupped her shoulders, feeling their stiffness. “She’ll make it her mission to make my bank account eat your words.”
Lanita laughed, her assistants joining her. Lucy, however, found no humor in me.
“That won’t happen.”
If we were alone, I’d lean down to whisper in Lucy’s ear. Something audacious. Or playful. Instead, I took my place next to her before linking an arm through hers. “Let’s sit here while Lanita gets things ready for you.”
Being the professional that she was, Lanita took her cue.
“It will only take five minutes to set up.”
“Down the hall, third door on the right.”
I sat close enough for our thighs to touch. Hands fisted on knees, my goddess threw me a sharp, warning glance. Of course, I ignored it.
“Miss Lucy?”
An assistant held out a tray. “Would you care for a glass?”
“Miss Lucy prefers not to drink champagne.”
I said this smoothly, obviously surprising Lucy and filling me with another surge of protectiveness. Ridiculous considering that after tonight, Lucy Martin’s eyes would glow with rage rather than appreciation.
It’s not too late to turn back.
“Sparkling water then?”
Lucy looked at me, seemingly for permission, before realizing her docility. Obviously, she didn’t like it. Or perhaps she saw something else in my eyes. Either way, Lucy shifted her legs and shoulders.
“Yes, thank you.”
Damn, but this was supposed to be fun. Watching Lucy dress up for me, guiding her decisions, seeing her become a creature of my making—it stirred up something visceral.
Primal and possessive.
Yet, I didn’t like how on edge Lucy became from the moment I mentioned Lanita. I’d like to think it was jealousy, but no. Lucy practically vibrated unhappiness and I was confident it had little to do with me and more to do with insecurity.
Again. How the fuck was that even possible?
Lucy was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. The way she moved arrested my attention every time I had the damned luck to see her in action. Pacing from one side of my office to the other, walking down the hall, driving me insane and inspiring the need to chase after her.
It angered me.
Lucy was all that I didn’t fucking want. She drove me insane. Being in her presence ripped apart my intellect.
But I needed her and I damned well didn’t understand why.
Just like I no longer understood why we were even here. Plans I’d constructed disintegrated and all with the tiny frown she couldn’t hide.
I truly believed Lucy would love the chance to play Cinderella, to have my attention completely focused on her. Arrogance?
What else was fucking new?
But the longer I sat here, surreptitiously watching Lucy sip her drink, the more I doubted tonight’s course of action.
Lanita arrived just in time for me to call her name.
“Yes, Killian?”
“Give us the room.”
“Of course. Call for us when you’re ready. Ladies?”
I waited until I heard the door close in the makeshift dressing room. Kindness and mercy were the qualities of better men, but I found in this instance I was capable of mimicking them.
“Lucy.”
“Yes?”
“Lucy, look at me.”
Several moments ground by until she set her glass down. She met my gaze, ebony eyes brimming with panic and desperat
e bravery. I moved to lean towards her, pausing when she shifted back before freezing in place.
Much like a statue caught coming to life. An abomination.
“Lucy.”
“Yes, Killian?”
Once I made concessions, I had to accept the consequences. Lucy would stay at King Cosmetics. And I would continue to change into a man I no longer recognized.
The weight of my decision crushed me, but only long enough for me to say, “I can call this all off. We can go back to work and then you’ll take me to dinner. Greasy burgers, fries, all that delicious salt. What do you say?”
Lucy’s relief punched me in the gut. All the petty cruelties I’d heaped upon her these last two weeks hadn’t done a tenth of the damage as today. A bitter grin took control of my mouth.
It really shouldn’t come as a surprise that when I attempted to be kind it turned out like this.
“Won’t that inconvenience Lanita and her people?”
“I don’t give a fuck if it does.”
“What do you give a fuck about?”
This was the first time I’d heard Lucy curse. Refreshing. Worrying.
“You, Lucy. I give a fuck about you.”
Truth had a way with me. Rather, I had a way of mangling the words into something unrecognizable. I was never believed when I spoke it.
“Really, Killian. What do you care about?”
“What do you?”
She sighed and leaned back. “Helping people.”
“And you’re here to help me by putting on pretty dresses. Is that how you see it?”
“It’s important to you.”
“You’d submit to doing something you absolutely despise just because you think it’d help me? That I really care whether you’re dressed in designer or something off the rack?”
“Yes, because you do care.”
Her simple clarity made me throw my hands up in the air. “Madre de Dios! Lucy, really?”
“Why are you so angry? I’m here as I agreed.”
“Looking as if I’m holding a gun to your head.”
Lucy paled. “I…I…I don’t feel that, Killian.”
“Why are you so scared? Tell me true.”
She shook her head, a stingy movement. “There’s nothing to tell.”
