Page 57 of A King So Savage

“So, your main job isn’t necessarily tending to victims here at The Den?” Ava asked with deceptively innocent wide eyes.

“Dead people do not require a doctor’s care,” Kingston growled. “And, Ava?”

“Sir?” Her gaze swung back to clash with his. She practically purred the single word, well aware she’d succeeded in pissing him off. She even mocked him with the use of the title he’d insisted upon.

“Drop the subject.” Kingston idly swirled his scotch until it mingled with the ice, gliding up along the sides of the glass. “Unless you’d like a repeat of the night you tried running away from me.”

Ava’s fingers tightened on the spoon. The glance she gave him was nothing short of murderous.

“Do I make myself clear?” he prodded, an eyebrow arching high. He almost wished she would continue this rash foray into defiance. Having her mouth around his cock again was something he would thoroughly enjoy.

“Crystal clear,” she bit out.

Neil cleared his throat in obvious discomfort. He shot Kingston a disapproving glare as he sipped his wine and ate his soup.

Twenty years his senior, the doctor had become one of Kingston’s closest friends while in service as a physician to his father. He’d stitched Kingston up the night Alan Winter sliced his chest open during a drunken rage. He tended to Oliver’s mother during her bouts of depression and self-harm. He doctored him and Oliver both when his father beat them. Now, he tended the employees at LIST, the exclusive club Kingston operated. The man had knowledge of Kingston’s worst transgressions, and yet, he remained fiercely loyal.

“Let us talk of other things,” Kingston said. “I’ve made Neil uncomfortable, reminding him of the night you bashed him in the head with a soda pop bottle.”

Ava flushed as she laid her spoon down alongside the bowl. Her gaze flitted to meet Neil’s. “I’ve apologized to the doctor many times for that.”

Neil smiled at her across the table. “And I’ve accepted many times.”

It was a friendly exchange, but Kingston hated it.

“Now that we’ve cleared that up, you can stop eye-fucking each other right in front of me,” he bit out, swallowing the remainder of his scotch in one swallow. He slammed the glass down on the table, immediately regretting the words the moment they tumbled from his mouth. He came across jealous and sulky.

Completely unlike his usual dry, cruel self.

Neil leaned back in his chair, giving Kingston an exasperated glare. “Whatever you are imagining, King, it is simply that. Your imagination.”

Kingston did not answer as Antony entered the dining room with the next course of the meal. He ignored Ava’s gaze trained upon him, the tension in her body plainly conveying her disgust with his behavior.

Antony preened over the dish he set before them, explaining in great detail the preparation of the swordfish and the intricate sauce accompanying it. Ava listened intently, granting the chef a sweet smile that suddenly… irrationally… crazily… Kingston wanted for himself.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Time spent away from her had only solidified Kingston’s growing obsession. The sole purpose of his trip was to determine the level of interest in this prize he’d captured. And yet, discovering how intrigued men were by the prospect of purchasing Ava only left Kingston with a twisted knot in the pit of his stomach.

Carson really did have feelers out for the purpose of selling his own sister. In fact, Ava’s brother had already contacted some of the same buyers Kingston extended invitations to. And Oliver was there in the middle of it all, facilitating matters with the inclination to somehow knock Kingston off his throne.

Finally, Antony retreated from the dining room. With soft music echoing in the huge room, there was no conversation between the three diners. Kingston noticed Ava simply pushing the fish around on her plate while drinking more wine than she should have.

Which seemed fitting, as he drank far more scotch than he needed.

Ava finished a third glass of wine, and that, apparently, was the magic number to loosen her tongue. Smiling at Neil across the table, she shook her fork in his direction and squinted her eyes.

“What charitable work do you actuallydo, Doctor?”

“Neil,” he reminded her, then with a quick glance in Kingston’s direction, he said, “I work with an organization that assists women in getting back on their feet after escaping abusive situations.”

“Really?” Ava’s eyes widened. “These would be women fleeing a husband or boyfriend who has mistreated them?”

Neil nodded. “It’s not always husbands or boyfriends. We also help women whose family life is not ideal. Women and girls who have suffered a tragedy and require a little help. Kingston is the most generous donor we have.”

“Shut up, Neil,” Kingston growled.

Neil continued with a benign smile. “I’m also the on-call physician at LIST. Have you heard of it?”

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