Page 16 of A King So Savage

Hair tangled

And cherry lips bruised red

Says you’re mine.

Kingston relishedAva’s sharp inhale of breath. She was furious and terrified, and he realized just how much he enjoyed that combination in her. It was heady. Arousing. Addictive.

He shouldn’t like it so much. After all, Ava was his prisoner and, until he heard from her shitty brother, she would be nothing more. But that did not mean he wouldn’t play with her while she was within his grasp.

Earlier, he’d watched Ava carefully when she’d believed no one could observe her movements in the main cell. While the camera system recorded her every move, Kingston tracked her actions in real time. When she picked up the lamp, raising and lowering it as though mimicking a blow to someone’s head, he could scarcely control his glee. Perhaps a savage creature existed behind that meek lamb veneer.

But then, she’d replaced the makeshift weapon with an air of defeat. And when she began crying as though all was lost, Kingston buried the stirrings of sympathy deep within his gut.

Ava glanced at the tray of food. It contained her favorites. A sandwich of roasted turkey and Swiss on wheat toast—mayonnaise only and no mustard—a salad of spring greens with fresh strawberries and poppy seed dressing along with an ice-cold bottle of Cheer Wine. The soda was one of Ava’s guilty pleasures. Something she rarely indulged in as she usually preferred water with her meals and she rarely drank alcohol.

Ava’s lips tightened in a way Kingston recognized as discomfort. She didn’t like the fact he knew so much about her.

“My chef made your favorites,” Kingston said, unrolling the napkin to reveal plastic utensils. Even the plate was plastic.

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” Ava said accusingly. Picking up the fork, she tested the tines, bending them as far as they would go without breaking.

“Yes.” Kingston could see the wheels turning in her mind. She was thinking about how she might attack him with a plastic fork. If it injured him badly enough, she could make a run for it. He chuckled and said, “You won’t get far, Ava. Even if you managed to stab me in the eye with that fork, I’d still catch you. So, instead of entertaining silly notions of escape, you should eat. Who knows? Tomorrow, I might decide you don’t deserve a meal at all.”

Ava threw the fork down onto the tray and scooted back until she was flush against the cot’s iron headboard. Surrounded by fluffy pillows, she glared at him as though he’d betrayed her. “I’m not hungry.”

Her stomach growled, belying her words. She pushed her fist tight against her belly as if hoping she might silence her body’s protest.

Kingston regarded her for a long moment. “After your bath, then.”

Ava’s fist relaxed, dropping to the bed beside her. Her fingers twisted nervously in the coverlet, her relief almost tangible. “Yes. After.”

Rising from the chair, Kingston held out his hand. “Come along.”

Ava’s eyes widened as she stared up at him. At six foot two, he knew his height would be intimidating to a woman of her size. She was a slender thing but also perfectly proportioned with sleekly toned limbs and a flat stomach. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder.

She ignored his outstretched hand, her brow furrowed. “What?” Her eyes landed on the spot inside his wrist where she’d bitten him, the reddish-hued teeth marks against his tanned skin.

“Bath first, food last.” Kingston snapped his fingers as if summoning a favorite pet. The sharp sound echoed in the quiet of the cell. “Now, Ava. My patience grows thin.”

“You don’t mean…” Her voice was thin with incredulous horror.

“It’s precisely what I mean. I assume you did not bathe earlier due to your injury, so I will help you. Once I’ve drawn your bath, we’ll wash your hair.”

“Wash my hair?” She repeated Kingston’s words as if making sense of a foreign language.

“Let’s get you in the tub.”

“Tub?” Ava shrank away until she was in danger of tumbling off the far edge of the cot. “I-I’m not taking a bath with you in thesameroom!”

“You prefer a shower then? Perfect. I’ve showered once today, but a second won’t hurt. Probably easier, anyway. I can soap you up all at once.”

In the next instance, Ava scrambled off the bed, darting from corner to corner like a butterfly confined in a glass box. Kingston observed in silent bemusement as she sought to escape. Just where in the world she thought she might go, he had no idea.

Then she sprinted for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her with a thundering bang. There was a panicked sob of relief as she barricaded herself within the luxurious room.

Kingston was in no rush as he approached the door separating them. It did no good to flee him, especially within this cell. The only lock was on the main door. And he held one of the two keys to that deadbolt within his pocket.

Leaning a shoulder against the thick door, Kingston rapped lightly with his knuckles. “Little lamb, little lamb, let me come in…”

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