Page 13 of King of Wands

Chapter 5

A Throne Made for Two

“Are you well?” King asked.

I kept my eyes closed. For one, his voice was pretty magical. Deep, warm, and it had a soothing vibration to it I found was relaxing. And for two, I was afraid if I looked at him I’d do something like throw my arms around him and burrow into his neck. It was what my body wanted even though it was a ridiculous idea.

“I’m fine. I just needed some quiet and fresh air.”

He squeezed my hand but didn’t remove his own. I liked the way it felt. It was just as soothing as his voice. Maybe more so. “These dinners usually get loud with everyone talking over each other.”

“How often do you do this?” I peeked at him and yep, my insides did backflips.

“Whenever I’m in town. I met Luis when I was fourteen. I watched him fall in love with Marcy. I used to live in your room.”

“My room? You mean the guesthouse?” Without thinking I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. Which meant I was staring at him and got lost in those soulful brown god-of-thunder eyes.

“Yeah.” I really liked the way he smiled. Like it was a secret he was sharing with me. “For about three years.”

It was disconcerting how little control I had over my body when I was near King. It was as if a wall came down between my brain and everything else, blocking all logical thought. I’d never reacted so strongly to anyone before and I was starting to believe it wasn’t just because he was handsome or famous. It was because my body liked his body. My body wanted his body. Every muscular inch.

“Three years? That’s a long time.”

He shrugged. “I was on two different circuits racing every week. I didn’t spend a lot of time there. It was just a safe place to land.”

Something about that sentence—safe place to land—jump-started my brain. It reconnected to my body and suddenly I wasn’t just physically attracted to King...there was this electric emotional connection too.

Where was his family? Why didn’t he live with them? Why did he choose the wordsafe?

“I didn’t realize you were so close to Luis and Marcy.”

His eyes raked over me from my hair, to my face, down my arm to where our hands were still clasped. “You’ve been busy. They’re very proud of you, just so you know.”

“I’m getting the impression you know more about me than I know about you.” Was that why King hopped to my rescue today at the gym, why he so earnestly and adamantly asked for help in the meeting? Was I more than a stranger to him?

That thought was bizarre but also comforting because it explained so much of his ease with me.

“They talk about you a lot,” King said quietly. “Your pictures are all over the house. You’re kind of hard to miss.” His thumb grazed mine. “I do know about you. More than I should considering we’ve only met recently.”

“What do you know?”And why are you still holding my hand?It was familiar and just a little bit possessive. It was also important to note that I wasn’t pulling it away.

“I know all about your degree. Marcy never stops chattering about it. I think she has designs on making you a younger version of her.”

I blushed because that was an immense compliment. Marcy had an MBA to satisfy her family and to fulfill her family legacy, but first she’d gotten a master’s degree in sociology. It affected how she saw the world and as my default second parent, she taught me to see the world that way, too. It was why I went into anthropology. Same focus, different technique.

“Is that why she convinced me to take this job? She wants me to be practical like she is?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged and his thumb made another pass over my skin sending a fresh round a sizzling goodness to the butterflies in my stomach. “They worry about you being too...what is the word Luis likes to use?” A thoughtful smile curved his luscious lips. “Oh, that’s right, he worries you’re tooaltruisticfor your own good.”

I sputtered in protest but the words died before they reached my lips. “He’s right. I don’t care about money. I want to love my research and nothing else really matters.”

Pass, pass, rub.His thumb would be the death of me. “That’s not a bad thing. Unless you’re too broke to pay the bills.”

“My mom likes to say ‘follow your heart the money will follow.’ Marcy hates that attitude.” If there was one thing they disagreed on wholeheartedly it was that. Mom would leave the room and Marcy would whisper admonishments and vice-versa. Mom didn’t want me to wind up in a soulless job that I hated. A nine-to-five existence of drudgery. While Marcy worried I would be homeless and starving.

“I tend to agree with Marcy. If you take care of yourself you can be as altruistic as you want later. It’s hard to go the other way around. Luis is a fine example of that.”

I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Kingston Reynolds was pressed against me. Knee to knee, thigh to thigh, arm to arm. I tried and failed to block out the sensation of his heat seeping into me, his thumb rubbing circles against my skin.

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