Chapter 54 #2
“Probably. They’re very protective of you. Tell me something. Do they have a reason to be?” He fixed a curious gaze my way. And from the depths of his blue eyes, so much like my Reaper’s, I noted an awareness there.
If I had to bet money, I’d say he knew something significant about me and my life. The picture of the men. Would he know who they were? I had put them from my mind, so much so that I had forgotten they existed. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter who they were—not when I had plans already.
“Not really. I mean…I don’t…No.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, they like being in control, is all,” I said, trying to sound confident in my answer.
With a swift motion, Sophia thrust my phone into my hands. The look on her face was complete triumph and satisfaction.
“Hello,” I said, my voice trembling.
Sophia turned her attention to Christopher, their eyes locked in a silent exchange. A sense of pride shone in his gaze. They practically screamed “Good girl.” Alek’s voice pulled my attention.
“Kitten, what am I going to do with you? Looks like you are getting your way. But there are conditions,” he said, sounding exasperated.
As each word fell from his lips, my body responded to the cadence and authority he possessed. I focused on him as he gave me the rules for the evening.
“Yes, Sir. I promise. Thank you, Alek. I won’t, I promise. As soon as I get home, I’ll text you. I appreciate it. I will, me too.”
My face flamed, fully on fire as I hung up. Then my phone pinged almost immediately after.
“Sophia, Alek wants to know where we are going,” I said, looking at his text.
“That boy. What on earth for? He acts like I’m going to corrupt you or something. Like he and his brothers aren’t in the escort and strip club business.”
She gave me the information, and I conveyed that to him.
“We’ll leave in about an hour and a half. This is going to be so exciting,” Sophia exclaimed, hugging me.
I sighed as her arms wrapped around me. A girl could get used to not only the love her sons gave but this too. I shook myself. A mother’s love was not in my future. And I doubted I would ever be a mother to give love. My life was not bound for that type of outcome.
The three of us left the ballroom, and I went to my room to get ready.
The hot water soothed my sore muscles, and I did some thinking.
I only had a small window of time left. As I soaked in the tub, I thought about what I could do to make our last few days together meaningful.
Maybe going home with them for the last few would be okay.
If I did, we could make use of the playroom or maybe visit the club. A thought stirred, sly and wicked, curling through my mind like smoke. I stepped out and began to dress, each piece of clothing tugged into place with growing purpose.
An unspoken fantasy took root. As it grew, so did the thrum beneath my skin, my heartbeat pushing harder, faster, demanding I follow through. Before I could change my mind, I grabbed my phone.
KINSLEY:
Please tell me you are in town.
MARCUS:
I am. What did you need, Ms. Taylor? I can’t take you anywhere, just so you know.
KINSLEY:
I know, but it is something I need you to keep secret. It only involves you picking up some items for me. This is absolutely embarrassing, but it was you or Marcel.
MARCUS:
Okay, now I’m intrigued. What could you possibly want me to pick up that you can’t tell Marcel about?
KINSLEY:
Lingerie and accessories. Ones you would find at a certain place similar to the one you visited in Seattle when acquiring a little purple massager for me.
MARCUS:
Hmm, I suppose I could hit up Agent Provocateur for you.
KINSLEY:
Really? Okay, I’m low-key excited over here. I thought you might say no.
MARCUS:
I’m assuming it’s for use with the guys, so I don’t see it breaking the rules. Visit the website and send me your list. I’ll have it to you by tomorrow morning if you do it now.
KINSLEY:
You’re the absolute best ever. I appreciate you.
MARCUS:
Get me the list.
I opened up a web browser and found the store. Thirty minutes later, I had the list sent to him.
MARCUS:
Got it. I have time to stop before picking up Marcel.
KINSLEY:
Keep it under wraps, though, promise?
MARCUS:
Will do. Have a good evening, Ms. Taylor.
My stomach flipped when I glanced at the time.
Twenty minutes. Not a lot, but maybe enough to pull myself together.
I chose a classy, casual black waterfall maxi dress.
It fit me perfectly with its draped halter top with a functional tie at the neck.
It allowed me to wear my blade, which was the condition Ivan had put in place.
The leather sheath hugged snug against my thigh.
I slipped the blade into place, the weight of it grounding and familiar.
A few careful pivots confirmed it stayed out of sight, just how he taught me.
Satisfied, I snapped a quick photo in the mirror and sent it to him with no caption, just the image. He’d know what it meant.
I applied a little makeup and then wrapped my long hair into a spectacularly messy bun.
Pulling a few pieces of hair loose on both sides, I deemed myself ready to go.
Sophia and Christopher were waiting and smiled when I approached.
But before we could leave, my phone rang, Alek’s name flashing on the screen.
“Yes, Sir?” I answered as Sophia narrowed her eyes. “Of course,” I sighed. I hung up. “Can you take a picture of me? Alek insists on seeing what I’m wearing.” A blush heated my cheeks.
“Oh my word, that man. He purchased your entire wardrobe, I have been told. If he’s opposed to something in your closet, then perhaps he shouldn’t have bought it for you,” she grumbled while Christopher took my photo. I sent it to him, and we walked toward the car.
REAPER:
You look beautiful, sweetness. Have fun. Text me when you get home.
“Tell me he approves?” she asked when I checked my phone. I nodded as my lips curved.
The closer to the garage we got, the more nervous I became.
Their new driver stood ready for us. He was quite handsome, with light blond hair and deep brown eyes, easily six foot tall.
I remembered his name was Logan. Having forgotten I wasn’t supposed to engage him or even look in his direction, I slightly panicked.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I was overreacting.
“Mr. and Mrs. King, Kinsley,” he greeted.
His crisp black suit, white shirt, and black tie were immaculate, and his gaze was intense as he regarded me.
“It’s Kinsley, right?” He turned to me.
“Yes,” I whispered. With each passing second, I was getting more anxious about leaving the compound. I involuntarily stepped back, bumping into Logan, and flinched.
“Easy there.” He chuckled as I flushed, and then his hand caressed my elbow.
I wanted to rip it away from his grasp because it felt intimate. It was instinctual. No man put their hands on me other than my Kings. How foolish? But my anxiety was making more of the situation than it should have. So I got into the car, even though I wanted to run back into the house.
Breathe, Kinsley, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like you can call Marcel.
I focused on Christopher and Sophia, though it was hard because Logan kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
Sophia chatted away happily, oblivious to it, while I tried to focus on her conversation.
She told me all about the restaurant we were going to—Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester.
Christopher chimed in and told me about how it was truly a dining experience like no other.
The first thing I noticed when we arrived was the two bodyguards Alek insisted meet us there.
Another of his conditions. He’d sent me their pictures and told me to trust them.
Logan got out to open the door, then helped Sophia out before moving to take my hand.
The big, burly guy stepped over and glared, though, making Logan step back.
“Mr. and Mrs. King, Alek insisted we accompany Ms. Taylor this evening while you are out.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing my hand. The other guard was actively looking in both directions.
“Christopher, is this really necessary?” Sophia grumbled.
“Alek seems to think so, dear,” he said smoothly. They held the door for us and accompanied us inside. When Christopher gave them his name, the ma?tre d’ informed us we had been upgraded.
“I think you must have the wrong reservation,” Sophia politely told him.
“No, Ma’am, we were informed that you would need the private dining room this evening. It’s already been arranged by Aleksandr King.”
Sophia looked like she was on the verge of losing it, but whatever Christopher whispered in her ear softened her features instantly. A hostess appeared, guiding us to one of the private dining rooms tucked away at the end of a gilded corridor.
The moment we stepped inside, light wrapped around us. It was gentle and golden and filtered through a luminescent, graduated oval curtain that gave the illusion of being sealed in a dream. I couldn’t help but stare, wonder curling in my chest. Sophia caught my expression and grinned.
“It’s inspired by traditional couture techniques, in homage to the world’s leading fashion houses of Mayfair.”
It was beautiful. The table was surrounded by shimmering optical fibers, which dropped dramatically from the ceiling. It gave the perfect balance, offering us an opportunity to enjoy the ambiance and buzz of the restaurant while being nearly screened from view.
“Ms. Taylor, we will be right outside, should you need anything,” Samuel said.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling foolish.
True to Christopher’s word, it was a dining experience. Right before we moved to leave, Mark, the other guard, asked to speak with him privately. When he returned, his jaw was tight, and he said we needed to leave immediately.
The ride home felt awkward. His body remained tense, shoulders rigid and eyes scanning the road, and he didn’t start to relax until the gate closed behind us.
As I stepped out of the car, Logan grabbed my hand, and an evil grin filled his face.
I tried to ignore the knot in my stomach, but as he caressed my palm, there was no mistaking or overreacting this time.
I sharply pulled away and hissed, “Don’t touch me.”
“Don’t be like that,” he whispered.
“You coming, dear?” Sophia asked as I picked up my pace and joined them.
I thanked them both and darted to my room, locking the door behind me. Pulling out my phone, I texted Alek, letting him know I was home.
REAPER:
Thanks for texting me, kitten. Be a good girl and get some sleep.
KINSLEY:
Yes, Sir. Did something happen tonight? Your dad got weird after talking to the guards you sent. Thanks for that, by the way.
REAPER:
You’re welcome. Anything for my girl. Everything’s fine. Promise me you will not leave the house again, though.
KINSLEY:
Alek, you can tell me. Has he found me again?
REAPER:
Sweetness, I need you to trust me. Don’t worry about things outside your control. I’ve got you, and I’ll be home soon. You’re safe.
KINSLEY:
Yes, Sir.
I left it like that and pushed the thoughts from my mind. A girl could never be too careful, though, so I still put my gun under my pillow, just in case.