Page 69 of Reckless King

Heat spreads fast through my veins, and for just a moment, I allow myself to forget what this is between us. I imagine walking up behind him, sliding my arms around his chest and pressing a kiss to his warm skin. Maybe I’d let my hands trail down over his abs until my fingertips skimmed the low waistband, then slid underneath. Would he be commando? Would he be hard and ready for me? I’d grip him, stroke him from root to tip as he groaned my name. And then?—

Shit. I jolt out of the almost-trance I’ve fallen into, pulse pounding and nerve endings tingling. I can’t think these things. I can’t succumb. Tate and I are too different. He might be able to indulge in physical relationships and not get attached, but I can’t. There’s no way I want to risk getting my heart broken by the biggest heartbreaker of all.

I take a fortifying breath and then clear my throat, as if I’ve just walked into the kitchen. “I’m done. What can I do to help?”

He looks at me over his shoulder. “Can you finish me off here?”

“W-what?” I stammer. Coming so soon after my illicit fantasy, his words have my mind going right back where it was before.

He cocks a brow and takes me in, no doubt noticing my flushed skin. “Can you finish this salad while I get the meat going? What did you think I meant?”

I shake my head, unsure if I heard what I wanted to hear, or if he was messing with me. I wouldn’t put it past him, but since I can’t be certain, I merely smile sweetly and step up next to him so I can take the knife he offers me. “What are you making?”

He points at two pieces of meat resting on a platter. “Steak with green peppercorn sauce, salad.” He points at a bowl full of salad leaves and then toward a couple of peeled potatoes. “And pomme frites.”

I arch a brow. “French fries?”

A smile curves his lips. “No one in the King family would ever deign to eat French fries. We eat pomme frites.”

I laugh, the tension I’m still carrying from the incident at the coffee shop and my temporary move dissipating. Maybe this situation won’t be as bad as I thought. Maybe it could even be fun. As long as I can get past this annoying attraction to him. Tate might not be real fiancé material, but maybe he could be friend material, if I let him.

I smile at him. “Of course. How silly of me. And I guess tomato ketchup would be too pedestrian. Are you going to serve them with gold-infused tomato puree?”

Chuckling, he leans against the counter behind him and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

It takes all my willpower to keep my eyes from drifting down over all those defined muscles on display.

“Unfortunately, I’m all out of sparkly puree, so we’ll have to settle for plain ketchup.”

I push my bottom lip out in a mock pout. “And here I thought I was going to get the full Tate King experience.”

His eyes darken, and he steps toward me, until our bodies are only an inch apart. “Just give me the word, butterfly, and I’ll happily give you the full experience.”

His gaze drops to my mouth and it’s as if I’ve been hit with a burst of static electricity. Heat flares over my skin, and my nipples bead beneath my top.

How is it possible for things to change so quickly? I only just decided to stop being so defensive around him, and within seconds, I can’t stop myself from imagining what the full experience would be like.

The only way I’m going to survive this new arrangement is to be completely honest. I close my eyes and let out a breath. Then I meet his golden gaze again. “I can’t, Tate. This,” I gesture between us, “is already complicated. Anything more, and it will get too confusing. For me, at least. And I don’t want to get hurt.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw, and what looks like pain flashes in his eyes.

I replay my words, realizing the implication, and try again. Taking a small step forward to reassure him, I press my palm to his chest, instantly soaking in his heat. “I don’t mean you’d deliberately hurt me. But you don’t want anything more than the physical, and I’m not sure if I’m capable of separating the two.” I swallow, gathering the courage to tell him the truth, hoping it won’t come back to bite me. “So as much as I might find the idea enticing, we can’t get any more involved than we already are.” Realizing I still have my hand on his chest, I let it drop, but I hold his gaze, waiting for him to say something, anything, hoping he won’t use my admission against me.

He nods slowly, as if he’s considering my words. “I have no intention of hurting you, Violet. But I’m not going to deny that I want you in my bed. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about fucking you since that first night at the club. But you’re right. I can promise to give you more pleasure than you know how to handle, but I can’t promise more than that. I’d like to touch you. I’d love to make you feel good. I want to be the man who wipes your ex from your thoughts and memories. But I won’t lie to you either.” His throat moves in a swallow, and he lowers his chin a fraction. “So let’s agree on this. The terms of the agreement stand. Physical intimacy is at your discretion. If you decide you want me, I’ll be here, in any capacity you need.”

Why, why, why does he have to be so damn sexy? With his wide shoulders filling my vision, and the way he’s staring down into my face with such intensity, all it would take is a single kiss, and I’d fold. I’d throw out my misgivings. I’d take what he’s offering while we’re in this situation and deal with the consequences later.

His attention drops to my lips, and for a heartbeat, I think he might do just that, kiss me. But then he drags his gaze back up again and meets my eye. “The ball’s in your court, butterfly.”

Before I can formulate a response, he steps back and reaches for a potato.

As he starts chopping, I exhale shakily and turn back to the salad I’m supposed to be finishing off.

If the ball’s in my court, then all I have to do is resist the temptation of Tate for the next few weeks, and I’ll be home free. I’ll have enough money to keep True Brew running, Tate will hopefully no longer be the tabloids’ favorite target, and my heart will be whole and safe in my chest.

I can do that. I’m sure of it.

CHAPTER THIRTY

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