Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(28)

It’s 9:48 a.m., and I’m still waiting for His Majesty, King James Rowan, at my place when I grab the phone and try his number for the tenth time. It goes straight to voice mail.

Whoa. Wait a minute. Is he backing out on me?

Did he cash the check?

After checking my bank statement and seeing he hasn’t, I grab the keys to my Audi and drive downtown, hoping I can remember how to get to Tim’s Bar.

As soon as I enter, Luke points to the far corner, where I immediately spot a long set of denim-clad legs hanging off the end of a booth.

I pause with a sigh of relief.

“He had a late night. Just got into the office ’bout two hours ago after sending Charlie off to school. I’ll wake him in a few minutes, huh?”

I check my phone, worried we don’t have minutes to spare. “We needed to be somewhere at ten.”

“Like I said . . .”

“I heard you,” I say, not meaning to be short and snappy, but we have an appointment with Michael, and I can’t allow tardiness from anyone. Especially me. “Fine. I’ll wake him,” I say, marching over.

“I bet you will,” Luke mumbles.

The clickety-clack of my heels tapping against the concrete floor is the only noise in the vacant bar. I’m guessing the drunks on this side of town are probably like James, sleeping off the aftermath of the previous night’s party.

Bending down to shake him, I pause when I spot a photo on the table. It’s a picture of James and a boy who looks like him. Must be Charlie, I think, staring back at James again. My breath catches in my chest as I’m struck by his clean-shaven face once more.

I study him for a moment.

Why do I love watching him when he’s out cold?

Leaning a little closer, I narrow my eyes, and that’s when I see IT.

A very dark circle shadowing his left eye.

No. No, no, no. He didn’t do this. He knows how important his face is to me. It’s in his contract.

Of course, there are a lot of things in the contract that James seems keen on forgetting.

I want to punch him again. I frown as I look at the bruise a little closer. “What happened?”

His eyes fly open. Bluer than blue. He grabs my wrist and hauls me forward. “No fighting,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

“Then how did you get this?”

“I mean . . . no fighting with you.”

I scowl at him, then lean over and mumble, “Are you sure you can read? Because I did put a clause in the contract that you were not to mess up your pretty face, Devil.”

He pulls me over him as if I don’t weigh a thing.

Shit. This is not how I planned to start my morning.

You’re not just making out in cars, Elizabeth—apparently in bars anything goes?

I fall still on top of him.

I try to breathe, and that proves difficult. Especially because against my stomach, I can totally feel James’s . . .

JAMES.

“Uh-huh,” he says, staring into my eyes, as if reading my thoughts.

He starts smirking very, very slowly.

The smirk even reaches those mischievous blue eyes, the eyes that were almost perfect when we last met.

One still is.

“Let me go.” I push off him. “James, what happened?”

“This?” He pats the swollen flesh. “It’s nothing.”

“You got in a fight,” I say. “I told you to get your life sorted out. I told you that you needed to—”

“And I did. I am. But maybe . . .” He drags my hand to his mouth and kisses the tips of my fingers. “Maybe you need to keep closer tabs on me.”

Trying to right myself and pull my dress down at the same time is nearly impossible. Obviously, James doesn’t miss it.

“One kiss and I might let you up.” His voice is gruff but mischievous.

I hurriedly peck his lips to appease him, but instead of releasing me, he licks his bottom lip and looks at my mouth even more intently. I groan. “I thought you were an honorable man, Devil.”

“Baby . . . I said might for a reason.”

“Which is . . . ?”

“Totally dependent on the kiss.” He tips my face back with his thumb and forefinger, eyes drinking me in. Eyes that shine too intently on my face for a guy who’s probably hungover. “Want to try again?”

My heart skips.

“I need . . . thank you . . . up, please.”

“Oh, I’m up.”

I resist a laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what I meant.” He laughs, slowly getting up to his feet. He cups the back of my head. “Kiss me again.”

“I didn’t kiss you to begin with.”

“The hell you didn’t,” he says, eyeing me with such lust that it makes me nervous. “We’ll be damn good together. You’ll see.”

“No. I won’t. Because we aren’t doing this. I told you.”

“Why not? You’re into this. Into me. Do you deny it?”

“James, I’m your bo—”

“I’m no one but Jimmy here. Come here.” He bites down on his lip, watching me under thick dark lashes with eyes that shimmer like pools. “I want to tell you something.” That grin is carnal, dangerous. “It’s a secret.”