Page 4 of We Three Kings

But not this girl.

This girl…she’s…cute.

Innocent.

Natural.

Long, wavy blonde hair reaches almost all the way to her ass. The strands are kind of wild and loose with coils that aren’t quite curls—untouched by any kind of straightener or product most girls use. Bare skin dusted with only a few faint freckles on her nose and cheeks. A red, long sleeve dress decorated with white snowflakes swirling along the neckline that probably came from Target or some other cheap place. Nothing at all like the designer clothes the ladies I usually go for wear.

Yet, I can’t keep my eyes off of her.

Especially when she leans closer, the slightest hint of a sugary sweet scent wafts over me, and she offers her small hand. Proper and polite and perfect.

Silky skin slides across mine with her firm handshake, filling my palm with slender fingers that grip me with a tighter force than I expect from someone so petite.

“Good evening Mr. Wiseman. I’m Seraphina. Ms. Fine said she was expecting you and asked me to bring you right in as soon as you arrived.”

Adorable as she smiles up at me, she’s eager to be my escort. As if I can’t find her boss by myself without any assistance. But who am I to stop a secretary so intent on her mission?

“Can I get you a water or coffee or something, sir?”

Her obvious desire to please strikes quicker than lightning to my balls. I’d love to tell her the ‘something’ I want from her.

But I force myself to shake my head because, for one, London will fucking kill me if I scare off her new employee. And, two, if she freaks out and leaves, Lionel will return, and I hate that fucking cocksucker almost as much as I do my own lazy ass little brother. “No thanks angel. I’m good.”

She seems disappointed. Her smile wavers a bit before she lifts her chin and brightens her grin again. “Okay, well, if you change your mind, please let me know. I’m happy to get you anything you want.”

Anything I want.

Jesus. She’s worth risking London’s wrath. Before I can respond with the filthy comment rolling from my brain to my tongue, she raps on the heavy walnut door and pushes the curved platinum handle down. “Ms. Fine, Mr. Wiseman is here for you.”

A smug smirk, cockier than the Cheshire cat, twists my best friend’s plump lips. Leaning back in her white leather chair like the ice queen she is, she temples her long fingers, tapping the French tips together in amusement. Conveying a defiant sneer directed to me rather than the sweet woman standing at my side, who unfortunately misinterprets the attitude and recoils backward with a startled gasp.

“I’m…I’m so sorry. I thought you were ready for him.”

Leisurely rising to her feet, London finally directs a smile toward the concerned girl. Warm and sincere, she offers an approving nod. “Yes, I am. Thank you.”

Seraphina recovers swiftly, relief softening her taut body, and she backs out with her composure restored. Once the door glides shut behind her, I turn on my savage friend. “What the hell was that? You scared her for no reason.”

Now she cackles, rounding her desk, and striding towards me. Gorgeous as always in an iridescent white dress that accentuates her almost six-foot stature. Lean and lithe from lots of hard work and a little bit of artificial enhancements. That only I know about since I’m the one who foots the bill.

What her fiancé doesn’t know won’t hurt him. At least not until they’re married anyway. Then she and her expensive and extensive upkeep will be his problem. Poor naïve bastard.

Too irritated to allow her kiss to brush my cheek in greeting, I jerk away from her lips and beeline to the bar discreetly hidden behind the lustrous silver laminate armoire in the corner. Pouring myself two fingers of scotch, which of course makes hertskat me.

Yeah, I drink too much. Especially when I’m tired and cross for no real reason other than she’s getting on my nerves.

“What do you care if I upset Seraphina? You just met her.”

I ignore her impertinence when she slides the glass out of my hand and brings the rim to her red-stained mouth finally halting her annoying smirk and make another for myself. Three fingers this time.

I deserve the extra alcohol after having to endure her ridiculous mind games. She swallows the entire drink in one long gulp and holds out the etched tumbler for a refill.

Yeah, andI’mthe lush.

At least I’m nice and pour another one for her without comment unlike her nagging ass.

“I don’t. Not at all.”

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