Page 7 of Lost Kingdom

“Ahem.”

I startle and spin, spilling my champagne when my heels sabotage my balance. Then my eyes bulge wide when Timothy Malone the Third grabs my arms and steadies me before I fall. “Shit!”

“Aubree?” Katie loses her relaxed tone in an instant. “You okay?”

“Do you often discuss sexual acts on the phone?” Tim asks seriously. Intimidating, almost. Then he hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “With an audience?”

“Who is that?” Katie gasps and giggles. It’s a sound. A choked cacophony that leads one way: excitement. “Aubree! Who is that man who saidsexual act? Is he the sneaky-not-sneaky guy Eli mentioned? And if so,” her voice grows louder, “why is he in New York, too? Are you vacationing with a man and you didn’t tell me?”

“I have to go.” My throat itches and in my chest, my heart thunders. Because Timothy Malone’s dark emerald eyes stare down into mine. And hell, his hands are still on my arms. “I’ll call you later?—”

“DOES HE EAT KITTY? Don’t hang up, Aubree! Just answer that one question!”

His lips quirk up on one side. Smug. Arrogant. And annoyingly sexy, hidden behind a beard I make damn sure not to think about too often. I don’t exactly have experience with my ‘kitty’ being eaten. But it doesn’t take a genius to consider sensitive body parts and coarse hair surrounding a man’s lips… one plus one equals two, no matter how you split it.

“I’m hanging up.”

“Aubree—”

I drag the phone from my ear and gulp a heavy, nerve-laden lump rolling along my throat and down to block my airways. “Uh…”

“It’s not safe to be out here on your own.” His voice is always so dark. So commanding. So… hell, he could order me to walk on my hands and count toa billion, and I know I’d give it my best try. “If you needed privacy, you need to tell me so I can watch your back.”

“There are guards already.” I swallow again, painfully aware of his long fingers wrapping securely around my biceps. His palms are massive. Broad. And his wrists are thick. Muscular. He wears a single leather band around his right, and a watch with a leather band on his left. And if this were any other time, anywhere else, he’d be wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms.

“Those guards aren’t here for you,” he rumbles. “They’re here for Felix. They won’t toss you to the enemy, Aubree Grace. But they won’t save you, either.”

“Well, that’s a little rude, I suppose. Could you let go of me?” I wiggle in a feeble attempt to loosen his grip. “I’d like to go back to the bar, refresh my drink, and pretend I’m not looking for you in every crowded room.”

His eyes illuminate, playful when he so rarely is. “So you admit you’re not over me yet?”

“I’m not over chocolate cake, either. Doesn’t mean it’s good for me to consume for breakfast every day.” I slip my phone back into my purse, then I use my free hand to peel his fingers from around my arm. “I bet cocaine feels good, too. Doesn’t mean I should move in with it and make it a part of my daily life.”

“I didn’t ask you to move in with me. Formally,” he adds with a smile when I flick his remaining hand away. “I said we should get coffee sometime.”

“You also gave me a ridiculously sentimental anti-family heirloom that essentially signifies love and commitment, but you failed to inform me of the significance behind the gift.”

“And yet,” he grabs my wrist and forces me to wrap my arm around his as we start toward the door. “You wore it today. That implies a certain acceptance of said sentiment.”

“Or it implies I think it’s a pretty hair clip, and I wanted to include it with my outfit.”

“Liar.” He pulls the reception room door open until that wall of noise hits us again. “Minka’s wearing her wedding bauble. Tiia’s wearing hers. Christabelle received hers today. And here you are, making your claim. You can admit you want to be with me, Aubree. Means nothing more or less than what we already know.”

“It means I prefer to live a life without coercion.” I ignore the stares of everyone around us. The watchful eyes of men and women I’ve never metin my life. The heated gazes of those begging to know things about Timothy Malone, but not brave enough to ask. “Whatever it is you and I have, or could have had, has been tainted by a history of half-truths, blatant lies, and flagrant duress. We should be friends,” I supply with an overly innocent grin. Bringing my eyes up to his, I paste on my brave face and give no indication that his fiery gaze makes my stomach flip. “Just like you suggested when you gave me the hair clip.”

“Or we could get dinner sometime.” He draws me to a stop on the very edge of the dance floor, turning until our toes touch and he’s all I see. He’s all I feel and hear and know. “Relationships begin with dinner. Just the two of us. No drama. No history. Not even a hair clip, unless you specifically want to wear it.”

“Relationships begin with honesty, integrity, and respect. Seems you missed that memo. The fact you’ve felt free to boss me around for the last year, sabotage my dates, lock me in your apartment, and reject me when I wanted you, means we lack the foundations for the relationship you’re asking for.”

Good lord. Call me Eddie and give the man the foundations talk.

“We can’t toss that history aside now, all because you’ve changed your mind.”

“I was trying to protect you.” He brings his hand up, cupping my chin and tilting my face back to expose my neck. “I will always protect you, even when it pisses you off. Get used to it. I’m not gonna stand by and let you date some other motherfucker, and I’m not gonna give up pursuing you now that my reasons for saying no in the past cease to be valid.”

“Which brings us right back to you bossing me around. We are two separate people, Tim. Two completely separate lives. Yet you seem to think our hypothetical relationship will be built upon your timeline and wishes.”

“Wrong.” He presses the pad of his thumb to my bottom lip and smirks. Freer than usual. Happier than I’ve seen him in a while. “Our relationship is based upon your best interests. If I think us being together is detrimental to your safety, then I’ll act accordingly. If it’s what is best, then…”

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