Page 13 of Dark King (Advantage Play 2)

Clearing my throat, I whisper, “When I was little, my mom and I would cook together.”

She shifts onto her elbow and looks up at me, her long, dark hair cascading over one shoulder, and I’m taken aback at how gorgeous she truly is.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’d sit on the counter and watch her cook all day until my dad would come get me and teach me manly things.” My voice drops an octave, making her laugh.

“And what would you both make?” she asks, intrigued.

“Pasta, of course.”

“You Italians. Do you ever eat anything else?” She rolls her eyes.

Patting my stomach for good measure, I tell her, “I definitely do. Do you think I get this physique from carb-loading twenty-four seven?”

“Physique? What physique?” With her chin propped on my pec, an amused Ace nearly brings me to my knees with her beauty, but I don’t let myself get distracted.

“Don’t act like you weren’t checking me out when I sewed up your hand,” I tease.

A coy little grin is firmly in place as she argues, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was a little too busy getting stitched up to be ogling you. But sure, whatever helps your ego.”

With my hands under her arms, I drag her up until she’s fully on top of me, and we’re nearly nose to nose.

“Want to know what else would help my ego?” I shift my hips beneath her to give her a hint.

Her gaze dims slightly as her teeth dig into her lower lip. “You sure you still want me after…?”

After knowing that Burlone used her. Abused her. Took something that didn’t belong to him. That he didn’t deserve. That she didn’t want to give him.

The thought brings a bitter taste to my mouth before I remember the girl lying on top of me with so many insecurities she should never have had to carry.

Lacing my fingers through her long hair, I tug her closer and place a gentle kiss against her mouth. Her lashes flutter closed, and she almost melts into me before I stop her.

“Ace, I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life.”

Opening her eyes, she takes her time deciding whether or not I’m being honest with her. After an eternity, she whispers, “Truth.”

Chapter Eight

Ace

As I’m reading a book in the library, the unusual banging of pots and pans being tossed around piques my curiosity. King’s been busy working for the past few hours, so I found my respite in the form of a book. However, the clanging coming from the kitchen grabs my attention. I set the worn novel on the side table then walk down the hall.

A giant smile nearly splits my face in two when I see Kingston in a black apron with his back to me and his head in the fridge. The view is pretty damn appetizing, but the curiosity still seems to have gotten the best of me as I get his attention.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Turning around, he gives me a megawatt grin that would melt the panties off a nun. But it’s meant for me. Somehow, that only amplifies its effect.

“Hey. Just thought I’d make some dinner.”

“You cook?”

“I told you I did. Mama Romano taught me,” he explains.

“Well, yeah, but I assumed when you said she taught you, you meant you watched her cook and stole nibbles here and there.”

With a laugh, he shakes his head and corrects me. “If I ever stole a taste without helping, I’d have gotten smacked with the spatula. Never underestimate a Romano chef in the kitchen. Now, get over here and help me.”

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