Fit for a King (5 page)

36

Diana
Palmer

Fit for a
King

37

King found himself
laughing, and it dawned on him that he laughed more with Elissa than he ever
had in
his life.
But then, his path hadn't been an easy one.
Part
Indian, he'd grown up fighting two worlds. Most
people didn't even know that he and Bobby had dif
ferent fathers. Bobby's was a Texas oilman who'd
left
his business equally to both boys. King's father was
a full-blooded Apache whose ill-fated attempt to
fit into his wife's social set had been a disaster. A mar
riage of rich and poor might make good novels, but
it was hard work in real life.
Eventually, King's father
had walked
out the door in the middle of one too
many
cocktail parties and vanished. King had never
seen him again. His mother had remarried, and when Bobby came along,
there seemed to be little affection
left for the elder son. He learned
to fight his own
battles, because he got no
coddling. He'd spent his
whole life
fighting. He guessed that in many ways he
was still fighting.

"You
almost never laugh," Elissa pointed out,
holding her jump suit against her breasts.

"Oh,
now and again I do. With you." He smiled.
"Go get dressed,
walking sacrifice. I'll wait out
here."

She
studied him quietly, curious about the worn
expression on his
face. More than Bess was troubling him, she sensed. She wondered briefly if
being the product of two worlds ever bothered him. She knew
about his
Indian ancestry; in her typical outspoken

fashion she'd once asked him why he was so
dark.
He'd given her the answer abruptly
and changed the subject, clearly unwilling to discuss it. She sighed.
What an enigma. She smiled back at him and went
into
the bathroom to change.

She put on
one of her own creations, a slinky black jump suit with a red bodice and single
strappy sleeve, and ran a brush through her long hair. She probably
wouldn't
wear the outfit around anybody except King.
Another part of her
fantasy life, she thought, and
grinned at her reflection. She realized then
that her
lipstick was in her purse, so she went back into the
bedroom to get it.

"Oh,
fudge," she muttered, fumbling through the
contents. "I
don't even have a lipstick." She lifted
her eyebrows in a
speaking look, expecting him to read her mind, as usual. And he did.

"Sorry,
I never use the stuff myself," he said
dryly. "Do you really need one?"
he asked, shoul
dering himself away from the
door, a cigarette in his
hand. He didn't often smoke, but tonight was
unset
tling him.

"Your
sexy sister-in-law will be sure to notice if I
don't make myself as
beautiful as possible," she
teased.

He came
close to her, towering over her and letting
his eyes wander with
uncharacteristic boldness down
her slender body. "If you'd put lipstick
on," he mur-

38
                       
Diana Palmer

mured,
"probably I'd have kissed it off by now, don't
you think?"

Her heart
jumped up into her throat at the unfa
miliar look in those dark eyes. They
searched her
face, only to drop and linger on her full breasts, and
suddenly she wished her neckline were a bit higher.
He hadn't seemed to
notice her body in the very re
vealing nightgown, but he was unusually attentive
now.

"We
shouldn't keep your sister-in-law waiting,"
she said. For the
first time, he was making her ner
vous. Eyeing him warily, she walked
around him, her
composure starting to shatter. As usual, when a man came
on too strong, she began to draw into her shell.

His lean
hand shot out unexpectedly, and he drew
her toward him,
clamping her waist so that she
couldn't move away.

That
proximity was new and a little frightening,
and she looked up
into his dark eyes uncomprehend-
ingly. "What are you doing?" she
asked nervously.

"Trying
to ruffle you a little," he murmured
darkly. "You're
too neat and pretty to go out there
and convince Bess we're lovers."

"All right, then, how's
this?" She ran her hand
roughly
through her hair.

He shook
his head. "Not good enough." His eyes
dropped to her soft mouth, and for the
first time in
their relationship he wondered
how it would feel to
have that soft mouth under his lips.

Fit for a King

She felt
his strong fingers bite into her waist, and her eyes widened. "Hold it,
now, big fella," she cau
tioned gently. "I'm not on the menu,
remember?"

His
eyebrows rose curiously. "Are you afraid of
me, tidbit?" he
asked in a tone he'd never used be
fore. It was deep and slow and sultry,
like the look
in
his dark, faintly amused eyes.

"That
doesn't enter into it," she replied. "I won't
let you use me for real. I
won't substitute for your
sister-in-law,
King."

His face
hardened. "I don't recall asking you to,"
he returned curtly, releasing her.

"Good.
As long as it's just an act, we'll get along
fine," she said
sweetly, although her legs were wob
bling from his unexpected nearness.
She could almost drown in that heady, expensive cologne of his, which clung to
her skin from just that brief contact with him.
The situation was
far too intimate, and she quickly changed the subject to divert them both.
"Is Bobby
anything
like you?" she asked. "I've never met him,
you know. They were always back in Oklahoma when
I was down here."

"We don't look a lot
alike," he mused after a minute, finishing his cigarette. "You'll
see for yourself
soon enough."

She forced
a smile. "Don't worry so much," she
said, attempting to
ease his obvious anxiety. "They'll
leave soon, and you'll
get your life back together."

With a rough sigh, he put out the cigarette and

40

Diana
Palmer

Fit for a
King

41

stuck his hands into
his pockets. "I hate being in this
position," he
said unexpectedly, glaring toward the
door.

"Doesn't
your brother pay her any attention at
all?" she asked quietly.

"He's
very competitive," he replied. "He doesn't
like running a close
second to me. He never has. With
the oil glut bringing the price of crude
down, we've
both had to diversify. But I've done it with more suc
cess than
he has. Now he's going to catch up or kill
himself. Unfortunately,
Bess has become a casualty."

"Do they have children?"

He
grimaced. "Bobby wanted to wait until they
were completely secure."

"Aren't they, by now?" she probed gently.

He glanced
at her. "They're comfortable, but
they've gotten used
to credit in a big way. Bess has diamonds and a sports car, but it could all go
up in
smoke
tomorrow. That's how close they're living.
Bobby's
scared, and with good reason. This Jamaica project will either pull him out or
break him, and he
knows that,
too."

Elissa
didn't say anything, but she felt sorry for Bess. For a wife, the worst thing
in the world must
be having a husband who never noticed her. Elissa's
parents
were always together at home, even if they
were doing different
things. They might be apart
physically, but when they looked at each
other, you
knew
that they were always one.

"Talking
about it won't solve this problem," he
said after a minute.
"You don't mind carrying out the
charade?" he added, raising his
eyes.

"Not
at all," she said, smiling gamely. "I've al
ways wanted to try
my hand at acting." She struck a
pose, the back of her hand across her
eyes. "I vant to be alone!"

"You
imp," he chuckled. He shook his head on a sigh. "You're a puzzle,
little miss designer," he murmured, watching her narrowly. "I'm
amazed that no
enterprising young man has ever seduced you."

She
shrugged. "Most young men don't like seduc
ing a minister's daughter," she said
pertly. Her eyes twinkled. "I almost got in trouble one time, defying
my folks. It hurt my conscience and frightened me
a
little, but I bounced back."

"Did you really?" he
mused. "Then why are you
still a
virgin?"

"Because
you don't undo twenty-five years of conditioning overnight," she replied
easily. She searched
his dark eyes. "If I ever did let a man
seduce me,
though, I'd want him to be like you."

His heart
stopped. He couldn't think of a single
thing to say as the
thought worked on him and made
his body react in a shocking way.

She
shifted, embarrassed at her own boldness, al
though his stony face
didn't give away a thing.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I just meant
that you're a special kind of man. I know you'd
never

42

Diana
Palmer

Fit for a
King

43

have to hurt a woman
to feed your ego." She sighed.
"I guess you've probably forgotten more about sex
than I've ever learned."

"I
guess I have, honey," he said, studying her down-bent head with a slight
frown. He caught her
hand in his—offering a small measure of
comfort, he
told himself. "We'd better go out."

At his
strong, possessively warm touch, which set
her palm to tingling,
she looked up and met his
searching gaze. It was like electricity.
Startling. Un
nerving. Her very breathing seemed to be affected by
it.

"Yes,"
she said absently. His mouth was beautiful
in a very masculine
way, and she couldn't seem to
stop looking at it.

He
touched her long hair gently, his eyes still prob
ing hers. She was trembling, he noticed in
amaze
ment. Then he looked down at the
bodice of her jump suit and was surprised to find her nipples hard against
the fabric—very obviously there was no bra
beneath
it. Suddenly he wanted to
smooth his hands over her breasts. He wanted to taste her warm mouth and feel
her body yield against the strength of his. His eyes
narrowed at his own disturbing thoughts.

"I
wish you wouldn't look at me that way," she
said with that
irrepressible honesty that had always
intrigued him. "It...it makes me
feel shaky."

His eyes
rose to hers once more. "When I look at
your breasts, you
mean?" he asked gently.

Her lips
opened on a shocked breath. He'd never
spoken to her that way.

He could
have bitten his tongue. What in hell was
wrong with him? This
was Elissa; they'd been friends
for a long time. It was Bess who was getting
to him. He sighed, wondering why he'd never before really
noticed this little imp with
her exquisite body and
lovely face.

"I didn't mean to say
that," he said vaguely. He
dropped her
hand, turned away from her abruptly and
lit another cigarette. "I'm in a hell of a situation. I
guess
I'm more disturbed than I realized. Come on.
Let's
get it over with."

"All
right." She followed him, her mind whirling.
Had he been drinking?
Would that explain his odd behavior? Perhaps wanting Bess had worked on his
mind long enough to disorient him. That had to be it. He'd looked at her and
he'd seen Bess. It was nothing
to worry about.

"You're
sure about this?" he asked before he
opened the door.

"Of course," she assured him.

He sighed. "Well, let's
see if we can carry it off."
He held
out his hand again.

She slid
her slender fingers into it, a hesitant, but
trusting,
"Okay." She looked up, batting her lashes.
"Oh, Kingston,
you're so sexxxxxxy!" she drawled.

He laughed
unexpectedly. "Cut it out. You're sup
posed to convince
her."