Page 60 of A Heart So Savage

Sucking in a quiet breath of utter clarity, Kingston tucked a tendril of honey-gold hair behind her delicate ear. It meant everything when Ava did not flinch from his touch but continued staring at him, a look of worried confusion in her eyes at his suddenly somber mood.

“Come on,” Kingston murmured. “It’s going to be a beautiful day. Let’s not waste a minute of it.”

ChapterTwenty-Three

From behind the clouds

A ray of light

Bright and stabbing.

Kingston tuggedon a pair of black sweatpants before throwing a robe on as well. Ava watched from the bed with the covers rumpled around her waist. She could not stop staring at his body. The man was so perfectly built that it hurt to look at him. All those muscles and ridges were like magnets—holding her gaze against her will. It wasn’t fair that he was so damn effortlessly good-looking. Even with his dark hair mussed and the shadow of a beard gracing his chin, he was stunning.

“I’ll have breakfast on the table by the time you are done getting ready. Everything you need for a shower is in the bathroom, and there’s clothing and shoes for you in the closet there.”

“You aren’t going to…?” Ava bit back the words, embarrassed that the disappointment of bathing alone was so apparent. The fact she’d been granted this privacy was an unexpected gift. And here she was, stupidly questioning it.

“Join you in the shower?” Kingston grinned. “As tempting as that is, feeding you is more important. You hardly ate anything at dinner last night, not counting dessert. I don’t want you fainting from hunger later.”

“Wait. You’re going to cook breakfast?”

“Don’t get too excited. Pancakes and sausage are easy enough.” Leaning over the bed, he tweaked her nose. “And don’t dawdle. I need to make a quick stop by my office before we head out today. It’s on the eleventh floor. We’ll hit it on the way down.”

“Are all of your offices in this same building?” Ava tilted her head. How convenient that his legitimate businesses were so readily accessible. Not for the first time, she thought of Kingston’s wealth and power and the numerous ways he used it to his advantage.

“No. I have others scattered across the city. Other countries, too, if you’re curious.”

Ava’s couldn’t help it as her thoughts turned dark. How many people had this man trafficked? How many helpless, abused women had been bought and sold like cattle while she enjoyed dessert in his façade of a restaurant?

“Whatever you’re thinking, Ava, and I have a pretty good idea of what that might be, it’s wrong.” Kingston’s tone went from teasing to whip-sharp in a matter of seconds. “Many aspects of my business are legitimate, and the ones that aren’t do not involve trafficking. My father had no qualms about those things, but I do.”

Ava drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. There was no need to remind him again of his hypocrisy. How quickly he would have sold her to the highest bidder if not for a selfish desire to keep her for himself? “But you do kill people. At the very least, someone else does it for you.”

Kingston sighed, the harshness in his eyes mellowing into vague annoyance. “When the situation warrants it, yes, I’ve killed men. Men like Malcolm. Men like your brother. It’s best not to dwell on this, Ava. It will only upset you, and you’ll never have answers for those questions racing through your mind. Now, go take your shower and get dressed. I expect you to see you at the dining room table in half an hour.”

* * *

Inside the closet,Ava discovered an array of clothing in her size with the price tags still attached. Boxes revealed shoes of all kinds, and in the bathroom, an assortment of high-end makeup items sat lined up for her use. She quickly showered and dressed and now, twenty-nine minutes later, she slid into one of the chairs surrounding a glass and chrome dining table that could seat at least twelve people.

Kingston smiled, placing a plate heaped high with a stack of fluffy pancakes and a side of sausage in front of her. “Look at my good girl. So prompt and obedient.”

“Did you make these from scratch?” Ava deliberately ignored his snide words of praise.

“I did,” he said without a hint of sheepishness. “One of my more useless talents.”

Ava remained silent as he returned to the kitchen and poured her a cup of coffee. After serving her, he grabbed his own plate and sat at the head of the table. Taking a position of power came naturally to him.

“My stepmother showed me once. And when I was a starving college student, this was a relatively cheap meal that went a long way.” Kingston took a sip of coffee, then swirled his fork through the melting butter on top of his pancakes.

Ava cut her eyes at him, remembering she had never seen him in anything other than dress clothes back in those days. At the time, she’d simply thought it was a pretentious way of distinguishing himself from the frat boys and jocks. “You were always very well-dressed for a struggling student.”

“Speaking of being well-dressed, you look gorgeous, lamb.” Kingston changed the subject, his gaze raked over her form. “I like that color on you.”

Ava tugged at the neck of the deep magenta sweater. It was paired with dark blue jeans, knee-high brown boots, and a Louis Vuitton purse in dark brown. It suddenly felt claustrophobic to wear the clothes he’d purchased for her.

“Thank you,” she murmured, rolling the sausages on her plate back and forth with her fork. The utensil was of finer quality than the one stashed in her evening purse.

Her gaze drifted to the coffee table in the open-concept living room area. The pretty accessory still rested on the glass surface where Kingston tossed it the night before. A guilty flush stained her cheeks as she quickly looked away.

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