King's Price

by Jackie Ashenden

  The orgasm swept over me, a tide of raw ecstasy that reached out and pulled me under.

  And my last thought was that if this was simply a chemical reaction then why did it make me feel like I had a chest full of broken glass?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Vita

  LEON’S BREATHING WAS fast and hard in the silence of the car. He was lying heavily on me, but I didn’t mind. His weight covering me made me feel inexplicably safe and cared for. Protected.

  He’d turned his head into my neck and I could feel his breath against my skin. It made me shiver. He was still deep inside me and I had my legs wrapped tightly around him as if I wanted to keep him there.

  I’d told myself we had to stay separate from one another—each compound safe in its own test tube—but now... Something was wrong and I didn’t know what it was.

  He’d told me he couldn’t keep me, that he couldn’t care about me, and yet back there at the function he’d stalked towards me radiating menace, a kind of lethal intent that promised retribution of the worst kind. He’d put himself between me and the two guys as if he’d wanted to shield me and keep me safe. Then he’d taken me out into the car, seeming half feral, claiming me with an insistence that bordered on desperation.

  It didn’t make any sense.

  If he didn’t care, why had he wanted to protect me? And why had he then taken me so desperately?

  I lifted my hands instead and touched his hair, pushing my fingers through the thick, soft tawny silk. He was still breathing very fast, golden lashes veiling his gaze.

  Had it been because I’d dealt with those guys myself? That I’d told him I didn’t need him to protect me? But, if so, why had that made him desperate? And what was he desperate about?

  Perhaps it’s you.

  But I didn’t want to go down that path, not when it didn’t lead anywhere. And reading anything into his behaviour would be a mistake. This affair might feel real to me, but it wasn’t. He’d told me so himself.

  Something ached deep inside me, but I couldn’t afford to pay any attention to it so I didn’t.

  I let my fingers play through his hair, focusing only on the moment, his body on mine and the feel of him still buried deep inside me. He was getting hard again.

  He shifted all of a sudden, pushing himself up. ‘No condom,’ he said thickly. ‘I forgot.’

  ‘It’s okay. I started on the Pill, remember?’ I’d begun taking it when we’d first started sleeping together since condoms alone weren’t fail-safe.

  An expression I couldn’t name flashed over his face then was gone. He turned away, pulling out of me before moving down one end of the car seat and carefully tucking himself away.

  I sat up, conscious that my gown was a crumpled mess bunched around my waist and that I was just about naked, my breasts bare, my knickers pulled to one side.

  He wasn’t looking at me and that made me feel awkward. I began to set my clothing to rights. Usually he helped me with it, but he didn’t now, running one hand through his hair then pulling at the sleeves of his jacket.

  The silence in the car felt heavy. Thick.

  Something was very, very wrong.

  ‘Did...’ I began, then my voice cracked and I had to start again. ‘Did I...do something?’

  He shot me a look. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’re very quiet. I wondered if I’d done something wrong.’

  ‘No. You haven’t.’ He put his hand on the door handle. ‘I’ll get the driver to take you home.’

  My stomach lurched. Normally he’d take me upstairs to his apartment.

  ‘You’re sending me away?’ I couldn’t mask the quiver that crept into my voice. ‘I thought you wanted to be alone with me?’

  ‘And I have been.’ His expression was taut, his eyes glittering. ‘But it would be better if you went home now.’

  ‘Why?’ Hurt bloomed inside me. ‘Leon, you need to tell me if I did—’

  ‘I can’t.’ He cut me off, his voice suddenly hard. ‘I can’t do this with you any more.’

  It took a moment for my brain to process what he’d said.

  The expression on his beautiful face was like granite and just as cold.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ I tried to make the words sound as level as I could. ‘Can’t do what with me any more?’

  ‘I can’t continue sleeping with you. It’s for the best anyway. The wedding will be in a couple of days and then eventually I’ll be leaving for good.’ He gave me a hideous forced smile. ‘Better to end on a high note.’

  ‘Sex in a limo is the high note?’

  ‘Sex anywhere is a high note.’ He pulled at his jacket again, paying special attention to the sleeves. ‘I’m sorry, Vita. But I have a lot to do to get ready for leaving Sydney.’

  I didn’t know where I got my courage from. But maybe standing up to my father and that guy who’d made the rude comment had enabled me to find some backbone because a rush of anger filled me.

  Ignoring my own fears, I reached out and grabbed Leon’s chin, turning his face towards me.

  ‘No,’ I said furiously. ‘You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to pull me away from Dad’s party like you can’t get enough of me, have me in the back seat of your limo because you can’t wait, then tell me it’s over. Like it meant nothing to you. Like I mean nothing to you.’ I could feel the tension in his muscles but I didn’t let go of him, staring into his hot golden eyes. ‘Don’t treat me like that, Leon. Don’t treat me like Simon did. Don’t make me feel like dirt. I deserve better than that from you.’

  He stared at me, unmoving. Then suddenly he grabbed my wrist and held on to it, his fingers pressing against my skin.

  ‘I can’t care about you, Vita,’ he said harshly and abruptly. ‘I told you that already. I can’t. I won’t.’

  The lurching sensation in my gut got worse, which was strange since I knew this.

  ‘I’m not asking you to care about me,’ I insisted. ‘Sex only—that’s what we agreed and I’m fine with it.’

  His amber gaze was unreadable. ‘Well, I’m not.’

  ‘What do you mean you’re not?’ I struggled to understand. ‘You mean you’re not fine with it being sex only? But I thought that’s what you wanted?’

  ‘I thought it was what I wanted too. But you’re right.’ His gaze focused intently on me. ‘You do deserve better than that.’

  ‘But I don’t—’

  ‘You deserve more than just sex—far more. You’re honest and scarily intelligent. You’re bright, beautiful and brave. And you deserve someone who can match you. Someone who cares about you. Someone who can give you what you need.’

  I stared at him, bewildered. ‘But I never said anything about wanting more. Or needing more.’

  Strangely, his gaze softened. As if he could see things inside me that I couldn’t see myself. ‘You might not think you do. But you deserve it all the same.’

  There was a lump in my throat, making it feel sore and dry.

  ‘What about you?’ I shot back. ‘Don’t you need more than that too? Don’t you deserve it?’

  ‘Sweetheart. I’m the last person in the world who deserves anything at all.’

  There was something bleak in the words and in the expression on his face. It made my heart ache.

  He thought of himself as bad, I already knew that. Untrustworthy and irredeemable. But that hadn’t been my experience of him. Sure, he was arrogant and manipulative and way too sure of himself. But there was also a kindness in him that he kept cleverly hidden. A kindness that in the past week had become more apparent as he’d taken me out on those dates, turning them from a stupid pretence into an experience he made sure I enjoyed.

  He didn’t have to do that, just like he didn’t have to make me feel good about myself.

  Yet he had.

&n
bsp; ‘You’re wrong,’ I said thickly. ‘You’re worth more than you think you are. And I think you deserve a lot. In fact, I think you might need it.’

  He gave a bitter laugh. ‘I don’t need anything.’

  ‘You do. You need someone who cares about you.’

  The look in his eyes glowed briefly. Then the glow faded, his expression hardening. ‘It doesn’t matter what we need or deserve. I can’t care. That’s the whole goddamn point.’

  I couldn’t concentrate. He’d said he couldn’t care... Did that mean, on some level, he did?

  My insides went into free fall, spinning around and around, full of that ridiculous wild hope I’d felt the day I’d tried on wedding dresses.

  I shouldn’t have asked, but I couldn’t stop myself. ‘You...care about me?’

  ‘I’m trying not to.’ His beautiful mouth twisted. ‘It’s a weakness. A vulnerability. And once you’ve given that to someone they’ll exploit it, believe me. That’s human nature.’ His thumb pressed gently on the centre of my palm, his eyes gleaming. ‘I won’t be weak, Vita. Remember, I told you. I can’t give that power to anyone else ever again.’

  My insides stopped spinning, a chill settling in my heart.

  So he did care. But he didn’t want to and, hell, I could understand that, especially after what he’d gone through at fifteen.

  I should have agreed then, let him drive me home, let our affair end. It would have been the dignified, mature way to go. But I wasn’t ready and I didn’t want it to end, and if there were only a couple of days to go then I wanted them. I wanted each and every damn one.

  It might end up breaking me, but that I could deal with later. There were some things that only Leon could give me. Things I didn’t want anyone else to give me but him. And I had a feeling that, after all of this was over, there would remain things that I would only ever give to him.

  ‘Thanks for the heads-up,’ I said, everything in me aching as the hope I hadn’t even realised I’d been nurturing died. ‘But, like I already told you, I don’t need you to care and I don’t want you to anyway.’ I swallowed past the lump in my throat. ‘You can give me this one thing, though. You promised the “I Love You Girl” her happy ending. And I want it. And that includes hot sex until the wedding day.’

  He didn’t say anything, and I wondered if he was going to refuse.

  I didn’t want to beg but I would. For this. For him.

  His gaze focused, a laser of molten gold, making my breath catch. ‘What can I give you that someone else couldn’t?’

  I could feel the atmosphere in the car change and I knew that somehow this question was important to him and that my answer was going to matter.

  So I gave him the truth. Because he deserved that too.

  ‘You understand me.’ I let him see everything in my eyes. ‘You know what happened to me and you understand what it did to me, and you wanted to make it better. And you did. You made me feel good about myself and you made me feel strong. I trust you, Leon. No one else can give me that. No one but you.’

  He remained quiet a moment longer, his gaze on mine. Then he lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm, his mouth warm. ‘Another few days, until the wedding then.’ There was a warning in his eyes. ‘But that’s all, vixen. That’s all I can give you.’

  ‘I know,’ I answered. ‘I’m okay with that.’

  And I tried to tell myself I would be.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Vita

  ‘REMEMBER, YOU DON’T have to do anything but get out of the car, go up the church steps, walk down the aisle and say the vows.’ Dad gave me a forced smile. ‘Nothing to be nervous about.’

  ‘I’m not nervous, Dad,’ I said. ‘But thank you.’

  Maybe if I kept telling myself that I wouldn’t be, though perhaps it was the unexpectedness of Dad being supportive that made me feel like I had a stomach full of butterflies.

  Then again, I knew why he was being supportive. It was in his interest that the wedding went ahead considering Leon was going to pay off his debts the moment we were married.

  Leon.

  My mouth dried and I looked down at my hands, at the simple bouquet of calla lilies he’d chosen for the ceremony.

  No, it wasn’t Dad making me nervous. It was Leon.

  He’d been insatiable the night before, keeping me up virtually the whole night with his magic hands and wicked mouth. As if he couldn’t get enough of me.

  Yet when I’d woken up that morning I’d found myself alone.

  He’d sent me a text a bit later, apologising for his absence—he had some business to tie up before the ceremony so he’d see me at the altar.

  The groom not seeing his bride the morning of the wedding was tradition, but somehow I knew it wasn’t that keeping him away. Or the business he had to attend to.

  He was staying away deliberately.

  I couldn’t lie to myself any more. Couldn’t tell myself it was only about sex now. It was more and had been ever since that night he’d held me in his arms and told me about the men who’d tortured him.

  About the father who’d abandoned him.

  He was damaged and, like the cliché I was, I wanted to help him. Heal him the way he’d healed me. But he wouldn’t let me.

  My heart ached like someone had kicked it.

  A commotion came from outside the car and I looked up. There’d been some paparazzi waiting outside the church as we drew up and a couple of them had got into an argument. Were they still at it?

  But there weren’t any paparazzi there now—the church steps were empty—and the commotion turned out to be my father exclaiming as the limo door was pulled open.

  ‘Get out,’ Leon ordered Dad tersely.

  I blinked in shock. What was he doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be waiting at the altar?

  ‘Wait a goddamn minute, King,’ my father protested. ‘What the hell are you—?’

  ‘Out,’ Leon interrupted. ‘I’m not going to ask again.’

  Still protesting, Dad nevertheless did as he was told and, as soon as he’d got out, Leon got in, slamming the door behind him.

  Even though I’d only seen him the night before, I still felt starved for the sight of him.

  He looked so good—dressed to perfection, his black suit with a bronze tie that echoed my flowers, beautifully tailored, fitting his broad shoulders and chest like a glove. Except his hair looked like he’d raked his fingers through it one too many times and his eyes had gone dark, more brown now than gold.

  My hands trembled. I wanted to touch him. But I didn’t. I kept a tight hold on my bouquet instead.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Great. At least my voice was level. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be inside?’

  His expression remained hard and something dropped away inside me.

  ‘You’re...not going through with it, are you?’

  His continued silence gave me his answer.

  I don’t know why it felt like he’d sunk a knife into my chest. I hadn’t wanted this in the first place. So him not going through with it shouldn’t have hurt.

  But it did.

  I lifted my chin, ignoring the pain. ‘I see. So, what? The “I Love You Girl” doesn’t get her happy ending after all?’

  The look on his face became a mask, his eyes darkening even further. There were dark circles beneath them, like he hadn’t slept.

  ‘I’ve paid your father’s debts already, and as to getting those investors on board, my brothers can work that one out. But the proper happy ending for the “I Love You Girl” is to leave the man who loves her standing at the altar.’

  ‘What?’ I stared at him, uncomprehending. ‘I don’t...’

  ‘It’s perfect. Don’t you see?’ His gaze burned suddenly. ‘That prick humiliated you, turned your confession into something that hurt you
. But this way you get to turn it back on someone else. Me. And I’m happy to do it, vixen. I’m happy to be your fall guy.’

  Something trembled way down deep inside me and I clutched my bouquet tight.

  ‘And then what?’ I couldn’t mask the shake this time. ‘You get to sail off into the sunset?’

  ‘That was always my plan, you know that.’ His expression softened. ‘It was never real, Vita.’

  No, of course it wasn’t. And I’d always known it. So why did it hurt so much?

  ‘But why can’t it be?’ The words came spilling out before I could stop them. ‘Maybe not the marriage, but you don’t have to leave. You can stay.’

  ‘No.’ His mouth hardened, the look on his face shutting down. ‘There’s nothing to stay here for.’

  I shouldn’t let him know how much that hurt. I should protect myself, act like I didn’t feel the knife he was twisting in my chest.

  But I’d never been very good at pretend.

  ‘Not even your brothers? Not even me?’ My voice cracked on the last word.

  ‘Vita...’

  Impulsively I reached out to put my hand on his, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin, to make a connection. ‘Stay, Leon. We don’t have to go through with the wedding if you don’t want to. But stay. Stay with me.’

  His tawny head was bent, the light through the window turning strands of it into gold. Carefully, as though it was made out of porcelain, he took my hand from his and laid it back in my lap.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ he said, expressionless. ‘This way you’ll get everything you want.’

  Anger and pain tangled in a ball in my chest and, just like that, I was done with hiding. This was important. More important than protecting myself. More important than my fear of being hurt again or of being humiliated and shamed.

  He was more important.

  ‘Yes, I’ll get everything I want,’ I said clearly. ‘Everything except you.’

  He looked up, his eyes dark. ‘Vita, you can’t—’