Page 54 of Brazen King

By the time the main course comes around—decadent raspberry-glazed lamb chops served with creamy mashed potatoes and balsamic drizzled asparagus—the tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

The wine seems to be doing little to help, and I sense my father growing impatient with Killian’s ability to remain impervious to the discomfort. Lance, on the other hand, looks like he’s about ready to blow a gasket. And I can only imagine that’s because he and his boss are sitting in the lion’s den, pretending to have a nice meal.

“So, Natasha, what were you up to today?” Killian asks, his eyes finding mine as he slides a bite of lamb from his fork in a way that makes my mouth water and my stomach coil.

“I, uh, reading some,” I say, hedging. I readverylittle. But mostly I’ve been taking out my anger on a punching bag. “And training…” I add vaguely, my cheeks coloring as I work to keep my ladylike mask in place.

It’s been so long since I’ve had to hold back with Killian. And the contrast to how we’ve interacted since my first attempt to kill him is so stark it’s almost painful. I hadn’t realized just how much I like that I can be myself in front of him—I never have to hold back.

That hint of confused disappointment flickers through his eyes again, and then he smirks. “Training? For what?”

Of course the jerk would read into the meaning behind it. And now he’s toying with me because he can tell I’m trying to keep up appearances. He’s trying to break me, to see if he can’t get my mask to crumble right here in front of my family.

The undercurrent of hostility and tension is almost unbearable. I’m surrounded by so many secrets, with each person seemingly amused by their own hand of cards they’re holding close to their chest. Meanwhile, my sanity rests on the edge of a knife, and I feel my grip surely slipping.

Seeming to have had enough, my father cuts in, and an intense wave of relief washes through me as he speaks up.

“I think that’s enough small talk for the evening,” Papa says, his voice commanding as he brings the farcical interaction toan abrupt halt. “Why don’t we get down to the reason Killian came to speak with me today? Tatiana, Natasha, Killian is here to see if he might implore one of you to marry him. I said I would bring the proposal in front of you since he’s so adamant—and confident—that one of you would be willing to marry him. Seeing as he won’t take my word on the matter, I thought it was time you ladies had the opportunity to express your feelings toward his proposal. So, daughters, I request that you at least hear what the man has to say before giving your final response.”

My stomach twists uncomfortably, my heart flip-flopping in my chest at the suggestion, and I glance sharply at my father who gives me a meaningful smile. He expects me to finish Killian off. Once and for all. If Tatiana doesn’t annihilate him first. And though my sister abhors violence, I wouldn’t be surprised if she managed to drive Killian to the breaking point before she’s done with him.

The thought sends anxiety coursing through my veins, and I glance quickly in Killian’s direction before dropping my gaze.

“So, Killian, do you have a preference as to which of my daughters you would like to speak with first? Or did you have a speech prepared that would woo both at the same time?” The smug amusement in my father’s tone is biting, and I can tell he’s enjoying every moment of this.

Humiliation radiates through my body as a hundred regrets hammer inside my head—regret that I failed to kill Killian when I had the chance, regret that I didn’t see his deception and manipulation for what it really was, regret that despite my initial instincts and the fact that I was being blackmailed, I still managed to catch feelings for the sleazebag.

I can’t keep up the pretense. I can’t continue to play the part, and as fury roars to life inside of me, I look up to find Killian already staring at me. He meets me dead in the eye, and myheart skips a beat as the intensity of his gaze steals my breath away.

“I’ll start with Natasha. If she’ll give me a moment of her time,” Killian says, his voice smooth and confident.

Someone could knock me over with a feather, and when I glance toward my father, then Tatiana, they look equally as stunned. They recover quickly, however.

And Papa rises from his chair, Tatiana quickly following suit. “Anastasia,” he commands, when my mother hesitates, her eyes flicking toward me with maternal concern.

I give her a small smile, and she squeezes my hand before joining my father and sister at the door.

“I expect you’ll want some privacy,” my father says, pointedly eyeing Lance as Killian’s right-hand man lingers by his side.

“Of course,” Killian agrees, giving Lance a subtle signal. And the hint of a smile flickers across his lips—I suspect because he sees through my father’s motivation.

“You’re really going to trust thisruffianto be alone with your youngest daughter?” Tatiana demands, her gaze perceptively suspicious as she takes in Killian’s wolfish grin.

Our father winks at me, making my pulse stutter anxiously. “I know she can take care of herself,” he says, giving me the silent signal.

Then he places his hand between my sister’s shoulder blades as he ushers everyone but me and Killian from the room—taking the oxygen with him.

23

KILLIAN

Natasha is stunning in her formfitting red dress. Her dark burgundy hair is pulled back in her signature French braid, and still, she looks shockingly elegant, dressy enough to be the demure young lady she’s pretended to be all night. Her makeup is perfectly done, accentuating her thick lashes and the fullness of her lips.

It caught me off guard at first—seeing her so shy and quiet, so put together like a perfect little lady. I’d nearly forgotten that, once upon a time, I had believed her act. I’d actually thought it might be a chore to marry her in order to seek the power I desired. That she would be a weak, boring wife but a necessity to build my empire.

Now, I could care less about the power.

But I ache with the need to shatter her carefully built persona.

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