Page 18 of The Kings
“Eliza? Sad to see I’m dressed?” His cheeky smile tells me I’ve made the right choice in knocking on his door.
Arching an eyebrow and raking my gaze over his partially dressed body with a smirk, I pout. “Naked suits you better.”
“That can be arranged,” he murmurs.
“Pass right now. I need your help.”
“Oh?” He’s upright and comes to attention immediately. Nice. He’s got the control to separate lust from business. Not many men do, in my experience.
“There’s a meeting at North Castle Tower,” I say, cutting straight to the chase. “Midnight. I need you with me.”
Tarquin doesn’t flinch; he nods, a fierce protective glint in his gaze that does things to the woman inside me. “Of course. Should I get the others?”
“No.” I shake my head, resolute. “Just us.”
“Whatever you say,” he replies with a hint of a smile. “I’ve got your back, Eliza. Always.”
“Good.” I’m ready for what lies ahead. “Let’s gear up. We’ve got a trap to spring or a test to pass. You know anything about it?”
He shakes his head solemnly, a fierce frown on his handsome face.
That does not bode well.
“So definitely a trap, then.”
“Who told you about it?”
“Well, I overheard it being talked about, and then Imogen came over and told me where it was. She said she wanted to forge an alliance, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Imogen is solid. I don’t think she would lead you into a trap.” Tarquin’s frown deepens.
“Sorry, but I’m not taking your word on that. She specifically told me where the meeting was.”
“That doesn’t mean she is part of it. It could mean she is being played as well if whoever is behind this knew she’d come to you.”
“You seem to be quick to defend her,” I murmur, feeling a flash of jealousy, which he notices and smirks at.
“She’s a distant cousin, so eww, but it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside that you’re jealous, petal.” He ruffles my hair as I slap his hand away.
“Fuck you. Jealous,” I scoff and turn away to stalk back to my room to gear up.
The sound of his snickering behind me is annoying as fuck. He thinks he has me pegged, but he can swivel as well now.
Unfortunately, all that thought does is make me think about swivelling on his cock, and I clear my throat as I grab my thigh holster and strap it to my right thigh before I shove the hunting knife into it.
“That’s wicked,” Tarquin says, coming into my room, pulling a long-sleeved black tee over his head to accompany the black combat pants that are undone at the fly. Is he trying to make me lose my mind?
Call me crazy, but this tease is even hotter than seeing him starkers.
“My dad gave it to me. I call her Felicity, or Flick for short.”
He smiles. “I adore that you gave it a nickname.”
“Her,” I snap. “She is a she, and she enjoys the taste of blood, so watch your mouth around her.”
He holds his hands up, trying to hold back the smile. “Noted. Sorry, Flick. I’ll do better next time.”
“Ready?” I ask as he does up his pants and then sitson my bedto do up the laces on his boots.
