Page 40 of A King So Savage

The clicking of the lock was not unusual, so she paid it little heed. Breakfast was delivered promptly at seven by Paulie. The man was obviously one of Kingston’s most trusted confidants, and Ava liked him despite the circumstances. He was quick with a smile and inquiries about her well-being. He had personally delivered the hundred books meant to occupy her time and her mind. But even while depositing the books inside her cell, Paulie had smiled sadly and shook his head.

“Sorry, miss. I know they can’t replace your freedom, but maybe you’ll find some enjoyment in them. Kingston says you read a lot.”

At the time, Ava only nodded and turned her head as the books were stacked on the floor around her cot.

Today, however, Paulie came accompanied by Jack. The two men entered the room, their demeanors respectful and non-threatening.

“We’re to bring you upstairs, miss. To the terrace for breakfast,” Paulie said with an encouraging smile.

“Am I to be served breakfast? Or serveasbreakfast?” Ava asked, brow rising high.

“I believe eggs and ham are on the menu this morning.” Jack chuckled at her sarcastic inquiry. “Hurry now, he’s waiting for you.”

“Heaven forbid the King is inconvenienced by my tardiness,” Ava muttered.

Real clothes had been provided since that disastrous night when she’d been given only a flimsy nightgown. She was already dressed for the day in a pair of jeans and an expensive, lightweight sweater in a pretty cream color. There were no shoes to complete her outfit, but Ava knew that was intentional. Being without footwear put her at a disadvantage, a mental one maybe, but Kingston had picked up on that little tidbit of her psyche on the first day of her captivity.

Pulling her hair into a quick braid, Ava padded to the door on her bare feet. “I’m ready. Take me to him.”

She was led through the same corridor used in her escape days before. Passing through the main opening to the upper floors of the mansion, the trio took a right instead of a left. Ava vaguely recognized the twisting hallways as those she’d seen when Kingston returned her to the cell once he’d captured her in the woods.

After the incident in the conference room.

That memory made her hands clench tight and left her stomach roiling with nausea. And it was foolish because she should be memorizing escape routes, but instead, she blanked out as she followed his two men. Allowing them to take her without protest to the very man set on destroying her.

Finally, they reached a set of glass-paned doors leading to a wide, covered terrace. The sun was just reaching above the treetops on this side of the house, and it illuminated the terrace and the walled garden below.

It was a scene straight from a fairytale. Blooming roses and honeysuckles twined around several terrace columns. Birds twittered and flew about from plant to plant in the lushness of the garden, and the air was sweet and crisp.

A round antique table of dark walnut sat in a covered section, and waiting there was the Beast in Ava’s personal nightmare.

Distress mingled with desire sent unwelcome stabs of awareness through Ava’s body. Kingston took a sip of coffee with those perfectly molded lips which had ravished the place between her legs just the night before. The image of this man kneeling before her, lapping at her body while she hung helplessly in his chains was seared into her brain.

She thought she might be sick.

Setting the cup down, Kingston rose from the chair and greeted Ava with a devastating smile. He had removed the bandaging from his cheek, and the cut was still in the process of healing. The bruising was fading, leaving behind the half-moon crescent that was now a dark shade of pink. Soon, it would be a sliver of white. Something he would carry forever. A visible reminder of her own fierceness.

“Good morning, lamb.” His gaze traveled her body, a smile twitching at his lips when he noticed her bare feet and how her toes curled in protest against the cold floor of the stone terrace. He waved a hand at his men. “I’ll let you know when I need you.”

He pulled out a chair for Ava as Paulie and Jack departed.

“Come sit down, Ava,” he murmured softly. “I thought you might enjoy breakfast and your first taste of freedom here in the sunshine.”

Ava approached cautiously, sliding into the chair as if it were made of thorns. The table was gorgeously set with an overflowing centerpiece of lilies and pink roses. The dishes were an antique Havilland bone china embellished with rosebuds. The pieces appeared far too fragile to withstand Kingston’s large hands.

Strange choice for such a brutal man.

“Chef has prepared all your favorites. Apple cinnamon pancakes. Eggs over easy. Country ham. French press coffee.” Kingston rattled the items off, and Ava’s stomach clenched even tighter with the reminder of his knowledge. He had ferreted out practically everything there was to know about her. Every tidbit of her existence was now part of his own personal database.

It wasn’t fair, considering she hardly knew the first thing about him.

“Thank you. This is lovely.”

Somehow, she managed to sound normal when every nerve and blood vessel screamed that she should leap over the terrace wall and try escaping a second time. Even with her bare feet.

Kingston’s head cocked as he sat down beside her. He poured coffee into her cup, added the appropriate amount of sugar and cream, and then sipped his own, watching her intently with those dark blue eyes.

Ava picked up a butter knife, running the tip of her index finger over the blade’s edge. “Real silverware?”

---