Page 35 of Guarded King

“I’m sorry, Mr. King.”

“Roman,” I growl as I do up the buttons. The frustration raging through me is meant for myself, but it bleeds into my tone.

“Roman,” she corrects herself softly. “I’ll take your shirt to be dry-cleaned first thing tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t. You’ll be here first thing tomorrow assisting me with these negotiations, not wasting time at the dry cleaners. I have someone else who can handle that.”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and she refuses to look directly at me. Dammit. I fucking hate that the moment of light-heartedness between us has passed. It’s my own fault for reacting to her proximity the way I did. I could have brushed it off, laughed and told her not to worry about it. If only I were the kind of man who made jokes and laughed about things like that. Instead, I’m apparently the kind of man who sees his assistant on her knees and imagines fucking her mouth.

With a deep breath in, then out, I force my jaw to unclench. None of this is her fault, and she needs to know that. “It’s fine, Miss Callahan. Let’s finish eating and get back to work. We’re almost done.”

Finally facing me again, she lifts her chin. “Chloe.”

Fuck if the way she’s correcting me, giving as good as she’s gotten, doesn’t have the tension in my shoulders easing and a smile tugging at my mouth.

I incline my head. “Let’s finish up, shall we, Chloe?”

Gathering what little self-control I have left, I get my mind back on work, and I even manage to eat another couple of sliceswithout a repeat performance. And an hour later, we’re close to wrapping things up.

“Make sure the proposal highlights the public relations benefits. If we’re going to push our budget, I want every press release touting how this project will transform urban living.”

“Mm-hm.” She makes a note. “I’ll reach out to the PR team and request they start drafting potential media coverage plans.”

“Good. I want to turn InnovaCore’s demands into our headline news. If we’re accommodating their demands, then we’re going to leverage every angle we can.”

“Do you want to?—”

My cell rings, and Cole’s name appears on the screen. With a glance at Chloe, I answer it with a quick swipe. “What is it? I’m in the middle of?—”

“We’re at the hospital.”

My stomach plummets as visions of accidents and assaults flash behind my eyes. “Who’s hurt?”

He lets out a choked laugh. “Nobody. The baby’s coming. I’m going to be a father.”

My heart stops, then starts again. “Damn, you scared me. How can I help? What do you and Delilah need?”

“Come to the hospital. Please. I want my family here.” I’ve never heard Cole’s voice sound so ragged.

My heart kicks in a way I’ve never experienced. Family. For years I tried to convince myself that my family was nothing more than an asset—yet another legacy of my father’s teachings. Pretending the only reason I needed my brothers was as tools to benefit the company made it easier to detach my emotions from what I was trying to achieve. All that’s gone out the window over the last few years, and fuck if I’m not the least bit sorry about it.

Though the unfamiliar rush of concern that’s washing over me now may force me to rethink that stance. It’s fuckingterrifying. And the fear isn’t just for my brother, but Delilah and my soon-to-be-born niece.

“I’ll be there. How far along is she?”

“Still early but I’m climbing the walls here. She’s in pain and it’s only going to get worse.”

“Are Tate and Violet there?”

“They’re on their way. Mom too.”

I fight back a scoff. “Mom?” It’s hard to imagine our cool, aloof mother hanging out in a hospital waiting room, but I guess stranger things have happened.

“Yeah. I was as surprised as you when she told me she was coming.”

“Okay.” Lips pressed together, I survey the table covered in files in front of me. “Keep it together for Delilah’s sake and I’ll see you soon.”

With a muttered thanks, he hangs up.

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