The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(13)

Why not? No one could get close the way family was able to, even family that was hated and untrustworthy. For better or worse, blood bonds bypassed all manner of things that should be deal-breakers—especially when someone was talking about a King or a Bancroft. Journey was both. He took a slow drink of his iced tea, letting her stew. “And in return?”

Another of those infuriatingly uncaring shrugs. “What do you want?”

You.

He stomped down on the completely irrational knee-jerk reaction. No matter what kind of bastard Frank was, he had a line he wouldn’t cross, and that response jump roped right over the line. Repeatedly.

Elliott Bancroft’s presence threatened to disrupt the power structure in Houston, as well as within the oil industry. While Frank didn’t give two fucks about the oil industry, he did care about Journey’s cousin, Beckett. Beckett’s competing oil company would also be affected by any bold moves Kingdom Corp made with an unknown factor at the helm. All of it added up to bad news, and there was little Frank loathed more in this world than someone rocking the boat he’d spent years building and steadying. He would have moved against Bancroft the second he heard about this development, with or without Journey asking for his assistance.

But she was here, and she was willing to bargain.

He met her gaze steadily. “Two conditions. Kingdom Corp owes me a favor of my choosing down the road, no questions asked. It won’t be anything that acts against the company’s best interest, but it won’t be comfortable, either. You also will reach out to your cousin and take him up on the offer he’s repeatedly extended since things fell out with your mother.” Beck wanted the King family reunited and the sins of the past put to rest permanently. So far, Lydia’s children had resisted his overtures.

“You’ve got to be kidding. You’re advocating for my cousin now?”

“My reasons are my own.” He permitted himself a smile. “Never show how desperate you are when bargaining, Duchess. My conditions are perfectly reasonable. It’s not as if I demanded you in my bed for the duration of our deal. We both know I could have and that you’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Apparently he was twice the bastard everyone thought he was, after all.





Chapter Four



It took everything Journey had not to throw her iced tea in Frank’s face. She’d expected him to demand a favor. Tit for tat and all that bullshit. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d negotiated on Beckett’s behalf. They were best friends, and Frank had risked a lot to ensure her cousin came out on top when he went toe-to-toe with Journey’s mother. A couple of months wasn’t long enough to combat nearly three decades of being told that the other side of the King family was the enemy, but Journey could envision a time when she took Beckett up on the olive branch he’d extended. He was dating Samara, after all, and if he was good enough for her best friend, then he probably wasn’t a total piece of shit.

Reaching out to Beckett on Frank’s terms?

No fucking way.

Easier to focus on that than on his non-threat about commanding her into his bed. She might not know him well, but their encounter in his office at Cocoa’s was more than enough to get a read on him when it came to sex. He wouldn’t make it part of the terms, and he damn well knew that she knew that.

Knowing the truth didn’t make her want to wipe that smug look off his face any less, though.

She moved her hand away from her drink and linked her fingers in her lap. She would be calm. She would be controlled. She sure as hell would hold her temper because she needed his help. “What on God’s green earth would make you think I’d put myself on the bargaining table for this?”

“Won’t you?”

Two little words that sounded a whole lot more like a challenge than a question.

Her mouth dropped open. Frank gave her an arrogant smile that made her want to scream. “You forget, Duchess—you’re not in a position to do anything but take my offer. You called me. I don’t need this deal. Your father might be the scum of the earth, but he’s nothing I can’t deal with should I choose to. So far, I have no indication of how he’ll conduct business, which means moving against him creates an enemy where I had none before.” He propped his elbows on the table. There might still be a solid foot between them, but he seemed even bigger than he was up close. His cologne teased her, something subtle and yet startlingly male.

He smelled like the best kind of fucking.

Journey dropped her eyes, fearing what he’d see in them. “I understand that.” She couldn’t dredge up resentment, because he spoke nothing but the truth. He had the power. She had none.

As usual.

“In that case, I’ll ask you again—take the terms, or stop wasting both our time.”

She straightened her fork and moved her knife to the exact distance from her plate on the other side. “How will this work? You can’t just stroll into Kingdom Corp when it suits you. Even if Anderson is distracted with our father, he hasn’t forgotten whose side you’re really on.” Beckett’s. Not theirs. Never theirs.

For a long moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer, but Frank growled and reached across the table to cover her hands with his own. Her heart leapt into her throat, its frantic beating stealing her ability to speak. Her flinch was as strong as it was involuntary, and Frank snatched his hand back before she’d completed the movement. “Duchess—”