Page 14 of King's Claim
“Brooding doesn’t suit you.”
King snapped up at those words and there was Lena.She stood a few feet away, holding a tray she’d clearly abandoned on the counter.The overhead light painted her face in gold, caught the stubborn curve of her mouth.
Hell.
She had no business looking at him like that.No business approaching him when he was this close to snapping.
“Shouldn’t you be serving drinks?”King asked, voice rough.
She didn’t budge.“I just did.Thought I’d check on the guy drinking himself into a mood,” Lena remarked.
King couldn’t help but smile.“You don’t check on me, sweetheart.You stay the hell away from me,” he told her.
Lena tilted her head, unruffled.“Why?Because you’re scary?Because you growl and glower and hope everyone takes the hint?”She shrugged lightly.“I’m not everyone.”
His pulse kicked hard.She wasn’t wrong, but she had no idea what she was poking at.“You’re too damn curious for your own good,” King muttered.
“Maybe.”She stepped closer, until the scent of her shampoo curled around him again, soft and maddening.“But you saved me.You put your neck out when you didn’t have to.That doesn’t scream monster to me.”
That word “monster” slammed into his gut.He’d heard it before, whispered by rivals, shouted by enemies, hissed by women who thought they knew what he was.Maybe they were right.His hands were soaked in too much blood to be anything else.
He leaned back, forcing distance between them.“You don’t know me.You don’t want to,” King told her again.
“Maybe I don’t,” she admitted softly, but her gaze didn’t waver.“But you keep acting like I should be afraid.I’m not.”
The glass cracked in his grip, hairline fractures spidering through it.He was losing his temper, and she stood there as if it didn’t matter.As if his rage wasn’t something to fear.
“Christ, Lena,” King growled, setting the glass down before it shattered.“Don’t you get it?You don’t belong here.Not in this clubhouse.Not with me.I’m not a man you poke at just to see what happens.”
She didn’t retreat.Instead, Lena crossed her arms, chin tilting up in defiance.“Then prove me wrong.Show me the monster I’m supposed to see,” she said.
The challenge hit like a strike to his chest.No one challenged him.Not his men, not his enemies, sure as hell not women.Yet here she was, daring him, her eyes steady and fearless.
Something inside him shifted.He rose to his feet slowly, towering over her, his shadow swallowing her smaller frame.Most people would’ve shrunk back.
Lena didn’t move.Her heart was probably beating fast, he could tell she was a little unnerved, but Lena didn’t give him the satisfaction of retreat.
“Careful what you ask for,” King warned her, voice low and dangerous.
The air between them thickened, heated, charged with something he hadn’t felt in years.Attraction, sharp and undeniable.It pulled at him, dragged him closer, until he could see the faint freckles dusting her nose, the pulse fluttering at her throat.
She unsettled him.That shook him more than anything.
With a harsh breath, King stepped back, dragging distance between them again.He scrubbed a hand over his face, frustration burning in his chest.
“Go back to the bar, Lena.Before I do something we’ll both regret,” he told her.
For a heartbeat, she stayed where she was, studying him with those unflinching eyes.Then, slowly, she nodded.
“Maybe I wouldn’t regret it,” Lena whispered.
Then she turned and walked away, leaving King standing there, fists clenched, blood roaring in his ears.He’d survived bullets, blades, and betrayal.King wasn’t sure he’d survive her.
