Page 57 of The Heir

I recoil away from the crack in the door as I hear Xavier speak to her in the background, and she turns back to me. "Miss,hurry!Mr. King is on his way."

I turn with a frustrated groan and pull the dress on. It's slinky, hugs my breasts and hips tight, and hangs in a draping pattern to my ankles. Running my hands over it I bite back a moan, it feels expensive. More expensive than I've ever had a chance to wear before. I run my fingers through my hair as a surge of panic races through me.

I rip open the door and see Marianne and Xavier turn and look at me. "Bathroom!" I half shout as I breeze by them.

Not thinking, I rush out and straight into the master bathroom before stumbling to a quick stop, my eyes flicker around observing the expansive, tasteful area. I hadn't been this deep in here before as I onlyused it the one time this morning in the dark. But now, I walk further in, seeing a feminine vanity to the right that's completely stocked with everything you could think to have.

I run to it, grabbing up a paddle brush and raking it through my hair and wincing at the snags. Looking down, I sort through the array of lip colors that are on display in individual holders and snag simple gloss and smear it on, giving my lips a little smack. Then I run into the toilet closet and relieve myself quickly, washing up in the sink with a hand towel I found in a drawer.

I cannot fucking believe this is happening to me.

Standing there for a second, I contemplate a shower. But considering I've already passed my allotted time, I give myself another anxious once over; other than the fact that my heavy breasts aren't supported by a bra, I look pretty good.

In a fit of vanity I brush out my brows and just generally fuss over my appearance. Suddenly the bathroom door opens, and I startle with the wand at my brow, seeing King walk in. He's in dress shoes, black slacks, white button up shirt that's undone and a tie that's also undone, the two pieces hanging down enticingly. Holding a note pad and a pen in his hand.

My hand lowers as he makes his way in slowly, wondering how upset he is with me.

Our eyes meet in the mirror and I put the wand down on the vanity, keeping my eyes averted. My heart races as he makes his way to me, pressing his front to my back, and I'm hit with another wave of desire. But this time its laced with vulnerability that for some odd reason, heightens my want for him. I peek through the mirror and see him reach for me, making me turn to face him.

Stumbling slightly, I hurriedly wrap my fingers around the vanity behind meand hang on.

King tilts my head up to meet him, but I keep my eyes downcast, pinned to his neck. "Look at me," he says, but I can't.

"Are you angry with me?" I say in a small, hurt voice.

Staying silent he steps into me, causing my pulse to race at the feel of his hard body molding into my breasts. The vanity presses hard into my buttocks and I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, willing myself to hold my attitude in check. My eyes flit up to him and when they clash with his I swallow hard, seeing a harder tint to him than I'm used to.

Even the air is still. I can't breathe.

"King, please say something," I plead, feeling my heart rate speed up as his blue eyes stare into my soul. He dips his head, bringing his lips to my ear.

"Nah. I don't think talking's the way to go with you." He runs his nose along my jaw, making me tilt my head back. My lips purse slightly as my lids lower, wanting him to kiss me. Wanting him to touch me. When no touch comes, my eyes snaps open, seeing him regarding me quietly. He hands me the pad and pen. "Write your mother a letter, in your very distinct handwriting, and tell her you're okay and tell her that we're getting married."

"But I'm not okay."

His eyes pierce mine. "That may be true, but you're going to do itanyway."

Seeing he's unwavering stance, I snatch up the paper and pen and slam it down on the vanity, writing a short and to the point letter. I sign it with a flourish, turning and holding it to him. He takes it and then grabs my wrist, pulling me off after him. When we breach the threshold of the bedroom, he holds the letter to Xavier.

"Deliver this to Ms. Brookes right away."

"Yes, sir." He turns on his heels and departs, leaving King and I alone.

I pad along in my bare feet after him as Sweetie weaves between our feet, meowing. "King, what are we doing?" I mumble, but he's silent, pulling me along after him down the hallway and the staircase.

When we enter into the dining room my jaw drops, seeing another beautiful set of floor to ceiling windows that is the obvious focal point of the room. It's dusk, and the stars are twinkling beautifully against the pink and lavender of the sky. Tightening his hand on mine, he pulls me over to the dining room table.

Letting me go, he pulls out a mahogany chair next to what I presume is his seat at the head of the rectangular table. Wordlessly I sit, not knowing what to say. Because I nailed him good in his dickearlier, and what do you say to a person after you do that? More to the point,why do I fucking care?

He's holding me hostage.

My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I've went without breakfast or lunch in a self-induced torture, because it's not like he's going to let me go because I'm refusing to eat.

He sits at the head of the table and begins to pour us both a glass of red wine, still not saying a word. My heart begins to race again.

"King-"

"We're ready for our food please, Marianne," King calls out dismissively.

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