The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(30)



“Yeah, you did.” He leaned down and captured her bottom lip between his teeth, biting just hard enough to taste her gasp. “And I fully intend to take you up on it…but not this weekend.” He forced himself to release her and step back.

He walked to the small bookshelf on the other side of the room. Every bedroom in the house had a selection of books he’d curated. Frank grabbed one at random and settled into the high-backed chair next to the shelf. He flicked on the light. “Sleep. Relax. No one is going to touch you this weekend—not even me. You’re safe here.”

Journey stared. “What are you doing?”

He held up the book. “I’m no professional audiobook narrator, but I’m more than capable of reading aloud.” He read the title and sighed. “Pride and Prejudice makes for a good bedtime story, I guess.”

She blinked a few times and then shook her head. “You might as well sit on the bed.” She made a face. “I promise not to endanger your virtue.”

It was a bad idea, but he recognized the stubborn look on her face. This wouldn’t be a battle he’d win if he wanted to stay in the room. He waited for her to climb under the covers, and then walked over and gingerly sat on top of the comforter. He opened the book, but Journey laughed softly. “I have a better idea.” She twisted to grab her phone off the nightstand and pulled up an audiobook app. She hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen. “You said no one is going to touch me this weekend. What happens after this weekend?”

Frank settled back against the pillows and gave a tight smile. “After this weekend, all bets are off.”

She lay down and pulled the covers up to her chin, leaving only her arm out. “I don’t know if I thanked you for riding to my rescue but…thank you. You’re going above and beyond the call of duty.”

He didn’t want her gratitude. “Start your book and close your eyes, Duchess. I’m here.”

“Frank…”

He reached out, pushed the button to start the book, and laced his fingers through hers. She went tense at the contact, but the stiffness melted out of her body as the soothing tones of a woman who started talking about a trio of witches in a small town in Oregon. Frank kept a hold of Journey’s hand as her breathing evened out and, within ten minutes, she was asleep.

He should have disengaged his hand and left the room then. Sex was one thing, but comfort was something completely different. It could lead to far deadlier emotions, and he knew better than to fall into that trap, even for a woman as engaging as Journey King.

He didn’t release her hand.

He didn’t leave the room.

He closed his eyes and let the story sweep him away. It was only for a little while, after all.





Chapter Eight



Frank dropped off Journey outside her place before the sun was fully above the horizon on Monday morning. “If you need anything between now and tomorrow, call me.”

She didn’t quite meet his gaze, just like she hadn’t since Saturday night. “Thanks, Frank. I’ll see you later.” She made it two steps from the car and turned on her heel, her hair fanning out around her with the abruptness of the move. She ducked back into the car and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Seriously. Thank you.” And then she was gone, disappearing into the doors in record time.

Frank shook his head and threw the car into gear, heading for his office. He’d put a lot of plans into motion over the years, but there was no way to anticipate Journey King. The mix of bristling hurt and sweetness never failed to surprise him, though she didn’t seem to realize that there was a molten strength beneath it all. It wasn’t his job to educate her—some people went their entire lives without allowing themselves to be forged into something new.

Remember that. Not my fucking job.

The building was quieter than he expected for a Monday morning, even as early as it was. He walked into his second-in-command’s office and knocked on the doorjamb. Mateo turned away from his desk and nodded in greeting. He was a small Mexican man Frank had hired eight years ago. At the time, Mateo had debt collectors knocking down his door and a baby on the way. A mutual friend of theirs had pointed Frank in his direction, and neither of them had cause to regret that decision in the years since. Mateo’s skills as a former Green Beret combined with a master’s degree in business administration helped give Evans Inc a massive edge.

“Hey, you have a minute?”

“Pretty sure that’s in my job description.” Mateo grinned. “You’re looking rumpled. Who is she?”

He shook his head. “Business first, then you can try to pry details about my private life out of me.”

“Promises, promises.” Mateo spun a pen around his finger. “I kept digging on Elliott Bancroft over the weekend. So far, nothing is popping. He racks up a truly outstanding amount of debt every couple of years, but someone always pays it off. Up until about five years ago, that someone was Lydia King.”

What happened five years ago…? Frank leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “She stopped paying him right around the time their youngest kid hit eighteen.”

Mateo hummed under his breath and rotated his chair to face his computer. A few seconds later he nodded. “Yep. Right down to the month Eliza King turned eighteen. Interesting coincidence.”

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