The King (The Original Sinners: White Years, #2)(51)

Kingsley positioned his hand until his fingertips lined up with the bruises. “He tried to choke you. Was this in bed or out of bed?”

“He does it all the time,” she whispered. “I think…someday he will kill me.”

“Why do you stay with him?”

“I’m not a citizen,” she said. “Not yet. I’d rather die than go back to Russia. My father’s worse than my husband.”

Kingsley sighed heavily.

“How tall are you?” he asked. Irina gave him a puzzled look.

“Five foot ten.”

“Are you very strong?”

“Stronger than I look.”

“I believe that. How would you feel if I kissed the tip of your shoe?”

Irina narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Why not?”

“Kiss it, then. I don’t care.”

“I would if we weren’t in a holding cell. Against my will, I find I have a new lease on life these days,” he said. “I’d hate to catch something.”

She smiled, and that one little smile transformed her face. In an instant she was rendered unspeakably lovely.

“You can kiss it later, then,” she said, an imperious look on her face. It was there an instant and then gone again. But he’d seen it—arrogance, self-importance, power. Cooper was right.

“Did you ever want to fight your husband off?”

“Every time,” she said. “I wanted to break him and beat him into the ground. But he had the money, and if he divorced me, I wouldn’t be able to stay here.”

“You like the thought of hitting men.”

“Most men need a good beating to teach them how the world really works.”

She smiled as she spoke, a dark dangerous smile.

“You might be surprised to find I agree with you.”

She looked at him now, full-on at him, and for the first time, it seemed she noticed his existence.

“Who are you?” she asked again. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you, my name is Kingsley. I own a club in town, a strip club. But I’m starting a new club. I need people to work the club. Special people. People like you.”

“Like me?”

“Like you.”

“I don’t know anything about working in a club,” she said.

“I can teach you everything you need to know.”

“What would I do?”

“Beat the shit out of men. Some women, too, but mostly men.”

Irina looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“Does that pay well? Beating up men?”

“It can, if you do it well enough.”

“Sounds like a dream come true.”

“Can you be brutal?” he asked.

“I am brutal,” she said. “My husband will be in the hospital for a week because of what I gave him last night. I couldn’t stop laughing while he was sick.”

“You monster.” Kingsley grinned at her. “I like you already.”

“You’re nice,” she said. “And you’re handsome. And you make me laugh. But I’m going to prison. I’ll be deported. My husband has friends. He’ll see to it.”

“I have better friends than he does. I can help you out of this.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I told you—I need you. If you agree to come work for me, I promise that, from now on, you will be doing all the beating. Do you like the sound of that?”

Kingsley stood up and looked down at her. She gazed up at him without smiling.

“I love the sound of that.”

He held out his hand to shake. Instead of shaking it, Irina lifted up her foot and put it in his palm. Flexible. Also a good sign.

Kingsley bent and kissed her boot at the ankle.

“Don’t speak to anyone,” he whispered. Detective Cooper waited for him at the door. “I’ll take care of this.”

He left her alone in the cell, and Cooper locked it behind them.

“Well?” Cooper asked.

“You were right,” Kingsley said.

“Told you so.”

“How do you know Russian?” Cooper asked, clearly impressed.

“I used to hunt there.”

“No shit. You’re a hunter? What’s there to hunt in Russia? Bears?”

Kingsley smiled. “KGB.”

Upon leaving the police station, Kingsley headed back to the town house to change clothes. He found Sam in his office.

“You have your checklist?” he asked her.

“Always,” she said, picking up a pen.

“Check off one dominatrix.”

“Check,” she said. “Is she good?”

“She’ll be perfect when I’m done with her.”

“Mistress Felicia?”

“Not yet. I’m still working on her.”

“She won’t return your calls?”

“Not a one.” Kingsley sighed. “But I’ll keep trying. You keep digging on Reverend Fuller. I have to leave again.”

“Again? Where to this time? More secret sex missions?”

Kingsley sighed heavily. “If only.”