King's Passion (8 page)

Friends and family members weren't as sure that their long-distance love affair was going to last, but Eamon was determined to prove them wrong. To his family's surprise, Eamon remained true, never once in college was he even tempted to stray. By senior year, he managed to make believers out of them all. As graduation neared, he took on a third job to help buy an engagement ring.

Three thousand dollars seemed like a million to him at the time. It was a small gold band with a smaller diamond, but he promised himself as soon as he made it rich that he was going to replace the ring with something so big and gaudy that it would make all her girlfriends green with envy. The ring size really wouldn't matter with Karen, but it was a promise he made to himself nonetheless.

He never forgot the feeling he had when he walked out of that jeweler's store. Too bad that he never got the chance to see how it would feel to slide the ring onto Karen's finger.

 

“Now, you take that curvy brick house that came in here earlier,” Quentin said, returning to the bar and acting like there hadn't been a break in the conversation.

“Do what?” Eamon asked, struggling to pull his mind back from the distant memory.

“Don't front. You know exactly who I'm talking about or you're not pitching on the same team that I am.”

“Oh. You mean Ms. Victoria Gregory.” As he said her name, Eamon's lips curled back upward.

“Yeah.” Q nodded. “Now, there's a woman with a body for sin, but one look into those sharp green eyes and my head is screaming
danger.
Even though I was teasing
her today, I know to steer clear away from that kind of trouble.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. She's the kind of woman who can chew a man up and spit him back out to avoid indigestion.”

Eamon had that impression, too, but that was the part of her that intrigued him more than anything else. “That's all right. Trouble never scared me much.”

Q smirked. “All right. A hard head makes a soft ass. Don't say that I didn't warn you.”

“Duly noted.” Eamon finally drained the rest of his drink and stood up from the bar. “But don't worry about me. I'm a big a boy. I can handle Victoria Gregory.”

“C
'mon, Victoria. Nobody sleeps when they're in Vegas,” Iris whined over the phone. “We're all dressed and ready to go party. You need to get this whole Marcus thing out of your system.”

Victoria's eyes hadn't stopped rolling since she answered the phone. “I'm not in the mood to go party. You two can go ahead without me.” She dropped her head against the pillows. If she could just hurry up and get them off the phone, she could return to her dreams about a certain club owner with the most incredible hands and lips.

“We're only going to be here for one night,” Iris insisted. “Pleeeease? I don't like it when you mope.”

“I'm not moping,” she lied. “I'm strategizing my next move.”

Iris huffed out a frustrated breath. “You're just not going to let any of this go, are you?”

Victoria grinded her teeth. “What do you mean,
let it
go?
You're acting like I've been on some type of rampage for the last year. This
just
happened to me a week ago! Can't you just let me be mad? Is that too much to ask? Am I not allowed to be pissed off about this? Why do I have to be magnanimous about becoming the laughingstock of New York? Would you be trying to take the high road if it was you? And before you answer that let me remind you that I was there when you keyed your last boyfriend's Bentley because you couldn't believe that it was his grandmother who'd called him the middle of night instead another woman. It wasn't until you learned that she really had broken her hip that night and needed a replacement that you even grudgingly apologized!”

Silence.

“Right. So now that I truly do get screwed over, your advice to me is to just get over it?”

“That's not what I meant.”

“Oh? What did you mean?”

Silence.

“Uh-huh. Just like I thought. The truth is that you have no idea how I feel and you could care less. So please don't let me in get in the way of you and Grace going out and having a good time!” Victoria sucked in a deep breath. She was getting too heated and taking her frustrations out on the wrong people again. She sucked in a second breath and then forced herself to soften her tone. “Look. I just need an evening to myself. Is that too much to ask?”

“No.”

“Thank you.” Another deep breath. “And I'm sorry. I don't mean to take this out on you. Truly. My emotions are just all over the place.”

“I understand,” Iris said, easing up on all that whining. “I really was just trying to help.”

“I know that. Really. Just…you and Grace go out
and have a good time. I want to be by myself tonight. We can just meet up for breakfast before we head out tomorrow.”

“You got it. Night.”

“G'night.” Victoria finally hung up the phone and pulled the bedding all the way up under her chin. She waited for sleep to come or even wide-awake fantasies of her chocolate King, but instead she was just left to stare up at the ceiling and wonder what she had really accomplished by flying all the way out to Vegas. She couldn't find Marcus and serving those papers at The Dollhouse hardly gave her the sort of satisfaction she was hoping for.

Maybe she succeeded in making an even bigger fool of herself, seeing as how neither owners had any real reaction to her mega-million-dollar lawsuit. She might as well have told them what day of the week it was. Maybe women sued them all the time. Who knows how many potential marriages their wild bachelor parties had destroyed?

And given how easily King had handled her in his office, who is to say that's how he handled all angry jilted fiancées? That was what it was, wasn't it? He handled her.

Hours ago, she thought that she was the one that was in control in that office. Now, she wasn't so sure. After all, it had only taken one kiss and she had transformed into a dog in heat.

What was it that woman said outside his office? Hadn't she just laughed at the notion that they were going in there to discuss business? Did everybody know what was about to happen in there once he closed the door?

Victoria groaned and then rolled over onto her side. Beyond the sheer curtain, she easily made out the glowing Las Vegas lights. The city was like an adult playground.
Even she could hear the gambling halls and pulsing night clubs calling out to her. It was truly a magical city.

Without thinking she climbed out of bed and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and pulled back the curtain. There was a ring of people watching the Bellagio's breathtaking fountain show. But her attention was drawn to the people walking down the new strip. They looked like a million ants from up there. But she fooled herself into thinking that she could hear them all laughing and singing as they trotted along from one hot spot to another. None of them, she imagined, had a care in the world.

A crushing sadness washed over her and before she knew it, a few tears leaped over her lashes and managed to get as far as the center of her cheeks before she wiped them away.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Victoria frowned as her she whipped her head around. “Was that the door?”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Damn. I thought I settled this with Iris already.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Rolling her eyes, Victoria stomped away from the window and then marched past the master bedroom, past the living room and minibar before finally reaching the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Grrrr.” She unlocked the door and then jerked it open. “I told you that I didn't want to—”

Her King smiled. “You told me what?”

With one quick glance she took in his incredibly handsome face. His smile alone was postcard perfect for a toothpaste ad. In the back of her mind, she realized that she needed to say something—anything, but all she could do was run her gaze over the way his broad chest filled
out his royal-blue silk shirt or even how it tapered down at his chiseled sides. From memory, she knew how hard and muscularly rippled his abs were. He probably even had that nice defining cut right were his hip and leg connected. By the time her X-ray gaze made it to his tailored black slacks a grand jury could have easily convicted her of sexual assault.

King cleared his throat—loudly. “Good evening. It's a pleasure seeing you again, too.”

Victoria's face suddenly flamed with embarrassment and instead of responding to his slick retort, she simply slammed the door in his face. Afterward, she stood there for a mind-numbing second where she tried to convince herself that what just happened didn't happen.

“Umm…that wasn't exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” King boomed through the door, and then added a little chuckle for good measure.

Victoria's eyes bugged while the muscles in her stomach rolled and twisted into tight knots, but for some reason, she couldn't speak.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hello? I know that you're here,” he continued to chuckle.

It was probably his amusement that finally got under her skin. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“What do you think? I came to see you.”

Silence, mainly because she didn't know what to do with that answer.

“If I remember correctly we didn't exactly finish discussing business in my office earlier.”

His hands, mouth and his incredibly hard erection pressed high against her thigh flashed before her eyes like instant recall and she had a devil of a time swallowing a huge lump that was growing in the center of her throat.
What—” She coughed to clear her throat. “Whatever you need to discuss, you just need to contact my lawyer. She'll do all the talking for me from here on out.”

Silence.

Did he just turn around and leave? She wasn't sure so she leaned over and tried to see whether she could make out if she could see anything under the door. Of course, she couldn't. She crept toward the door and then slowly pressed her ear against it to see if she could at least hear anything.

“What if I told you that I didn't like lawyers?” he boomed suddenly.

Victoria jumped back as if the door had exploded. After clutching a hand over her heart and catching her breath, she said, “Then I would say that it was just too damn bad.”

“Well. Forgive me, but I thought that since you went through an awful lot of trouble to deliver this nasty little lawsuit yourself that we could sit down and settle this between us.”

It's a trap. He's just going to try and seduce me again. Wait. Or had she seduced him?
She couldn't remember what her final verdict was on that hot episode in his office.

“Of course, I'd rather not try to broker this thing through the door like this. People are starting to look at me strange out here.”

She remained silent though her hand itched to open the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“C'mon. Open the door.”

Victoria clutched at her clothes and only then realized that she was in her pajamas. “I'm not dressed.”

“Granted, you're not wearing my favorite dress you
had on earlier, but the last time I checked, pajamas still qualified as clothing.”

He really is a smart-ass.
She turned away and rushed to take a look at herself in the mirror. Thankfully, she didn't look like a hot mess, but for good measure, she ran the brush through her hair a couple of times. As far as her clothes, King was right. There was nothing wrong with her two-piece pink pajamas. It wasn't sheer or risqué in any way.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Geez. Talk about being persistent.” She rushed back toward the door, took a deep breath and opened it.

There leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed and wearing a crooked smile, stood her King.

My King? Where the hell did that thought come from?
She shook her head clear.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked, sounding like a wolf that was bold enough to knock on Little Red Riding Hood's grandma's door.

Victoria wasn't a woman who was easily scared, but there was definitely a trickle of fear in her bloodstream as she looked this handsome devil in the eye and issued an invitation. “Come on in.”

His lips kicked up an extra notch as he unfolded his arms and strolled across the threshold like a king entering his own castle.

The knots in Victoria's stomach managed to tighten more while her knees almost started to knock together. Just being around him again had her body teetering on the verge of mutiny against her lifelong habit of restraint and self-control (minus what happened earlier that evening). While he strolled inside, glancing around, Victoria closed the front door and stole another deep breath while she checked out his back view.

Damn. This brother is fine coming and going.
Seriously. She couldn't find a bad angle on him anywhere. In a way that was annoying. It would help her immensely if she could find some flaw that would at least humanize him. After all, it's impossible to remain angry at a man who looked like a god.

“All right,” she said, crossing her arm again. “Now what?”

King turned and lazily roamed his gaze over her. It was probably payback for the way she had gawked at him outright when she'd opened the door. “
Now
—you get dressed so that I can take you to dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes. It's this ancient practice we have around here where we sort of sit around a nice table, sometimes there's candlelight and soft music playing in the background.”

Victoria cocked her head and pursed her lips together.

He just smiled and continued. “We have these people that are either called waiters or waitresses and we order what we'd like to eat. They scurry off to the back and tell this majestic cook—a master of all things culinary and whatnot. Next thing you know that waiter is placing our mouthwatering food before us and we just…dig in.” At the end of his dinner description, his smile was so wide she could easily count all thirty-two teeth.

“Funny.”

“Maybe I missed a career as a comedian?”

“You're not that funny.”

“Or maybe not.” He winked and then closed the space between them.

For the briefest moment, Victoria nearly panicked and stepped back, but at the last moment, her brain kicked in and ordered her feet to remain rooted where they were.
She didn't want to concede any ground to him. But that decision was damn near her undoing because the minute his seductive cologne wrapped around her senses, she started having visions of braided fingers, sweaty bodies and silk sheets.

“Now, about dinner. I hope that you like Italian because I made reservations at this wonderful spot away from the tourists but a secret jewel that you'll enjoy.”

“I'm not going to dinner with you.”

“Our reservation is in forty-five minutes.”

One of Victoria's brows steadily climbed higher. “Thanks, but…I'm not hungry.”

The mutiny started. Her stomach just had to pick that exact moment to start growling. And it wasn't just some small growl that she could laugh or ignore but it was this long, loud rumbling growl that would have put any hungry African lion to shame. And while her empty stomach was making a fool out of her, she was either crazy or bold enough to maintain eye contact with this grinning god.

Next, she tried to cut off the never-ending growl by pressing her arms flat against her stomach, but unbelievably that just made it worse—by making it louder.

A
full
minute later, the humiliation ended and King simply glanced down at his platinum MontBlanc watch and said, “Make that forty-four minutes. You better shake a leg.”

Victoria thought about tossing another excuse his way, but why risk being caught in a second lie? “Fine. Dinner. But there will be none of that…other stuff.”

A sudden light twinkled in his eyes. “Too bad. I sort of liked that other stuff.”