Page 17 of King of Wands

It wasn’t a date. Not really. I would be his handler, for lack of a better word.

It was not a date.

I’ll be dressed up. He’ll be dressed up. We’ll walk side by side, share drinks and conversation, but it wasn’t a date. Maybe if I repeated it enough my body would get the message.

“Well,” Richard stood, “I have to get the design team working. I’ll see you tonight?” He gave us each a pointed look.

I nodded. King nodded. Richard left.

And we were alone.

“Thank you,” King said without looking at me. Instead he stared at his fists on the table. “I fucking hate parties.” And then...then he finally glanced at me from the corner of his gorgeous brown eyes and I felt the whole world tilt on an axis.

There was relief there, yes, but there was also a tender yearning that made my heart skip a beat. “Of course. Besides, if you can’t be comfortable at Marcy’s party, wherecanyou be comfortable?”

His eyes dropped to my lips and held. They held for so long it started to feel like a caress. I forgot how to think or breathe or move. Instead I was frozen in his gaze, afraid if I blinked it would end. And I definitely didn’t want it to end. Having King’s affection felt good. Really, really good. Like an excellent chocolate cake all to myself, but even better.

“Yeah,” he finally murmured. “Where?”