Money Man (King Maker 1)

“Tha thu bòidheach.”

I had no idea what that meant. If not for his heated gaze on me, I would have taken it as a curse, especially the way he muttered it under his breath.

“You know, I can go by myself because I’m not going to apologize for pissing you off because I asked if you were married. Though I admit my timing was off and I should have asked sooner.”

We traded glares until he finally broke the silence.

“As I’ve said, I’m a man of my word.”

“Well, I’m freeing you of your obligation. You don’t exactly seem happy about being here.”

Neither one of us had moved, as if the door’s threshold was the proverbial line in the sand.

“If I dinnae want to be here, I wouldn’t be, Miss Glicks.”

Grrr. We were back to Miss Glicks. If my emotions weren’t on some roller coaster I couldn’t get off of, I might have been smug that I picked up on one of Kalen’s tells. When he was angry, or passionate for that matter, his native tongue broke into his perfect English.

“What if I don’t want you here?” I snapped.

His eyes drifted down my body like a caress. When our eyes connected again, he said, “Your nipples are like diamond shards poking through your dress. I dinnae have to touch you to know you’re wet. You want me to fuck you, but I won’t.”

Sounding as silly as I felt, I said, “Fuck you,” and stepped the few feet to Lizzy’s favorite chair to grab my coat and clutch.

Then I brushed by him, closing the door in the process.

“Fine, if we’re going to go, we should leave now. The sooner we get there, the sooner this night is over.”

I couldn’t stomp in the high heels without potentially tripping myself. But I did my best damn impression. I stabbed at the elevator like my life depended on it, but it refused to light.

Kalen’s heat warmed my back, though he didn’t touch me until his hand caught my wrist. Gently, he removed it after my unsuccessful attempts to call the elevator. He let go and smoothly tapped the button that lit up as if it had been waiting for a kinder touch.

I counted off sixty seconds, trying to rein in everything I was feeling. He’d been right. Though I’d felt righteous indignation, I was also more turned on than I had been since we’d met.

When the doors finally parted, we stepped in and stood in opposite corners like fighters before a match.

That was when my composure slipped. I let my wandering eyes fall to just below Kalen’s belt.

The smirk that played over my mouth was like victory. “It seems like I’m not the only one who wants to fuck,” I said, staring pointedly at the swell of his cock and the imprint it made in his pants.

“I never said I didn’t want to fuck you, Miss Glicks,” he said coolly. “I only said I wouldn’t.”

I almost dared him to before I was saved by the bell. The doors opened and a clingy couple stepped in effectively between us. The woman held onto her boyfriend’s arm and stared adoringly up at him, or so it looked in the reflective surface facing them. I rolled my eyes and kept them off of Kalen. It was going to be a long night.

We followed the touchy-feely couple into the night. At the curb sat the most stunning car I had ever seen and I’m not much of a car girl, growing up without the luxury.

It was a Mercedes. I knew that much from the medallion on the hood. Scott owned one, but it looked like a junker compared to this.

A vision in midnight blue with an extremely long hood, low roofline, and short rear was something to look at. The multi-spoked wheels mirrored the grill and took my breath away.

I hadn’t realized I’d stopped until Kalen’s hand landed on my back.

“Come,” he said.

I looked up at him and caught his smug grin. I wanted to growl in frustration. My being mesmerized by his car felt like a win in his column.

Lizzy would have loved the inside of the car with its stark white interior, which just fit.

It purred to life as I took in all that I could see, including the bright blue panoramic touch screen.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

It was an understatement. And though I still wasn’t happy with him, I wouldn’t lie.

“Yes, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s a Maybach 6 Cabriolet. A Vision Mercedes concept car, practically one of a kind,” he said, almost wistfully.

All of that went over my head except that it was rare. “How did you get one?”

The hint of a smile died from his lips and flatlined.

“Part of my employment agreement.”

“Your skills must be in high demand,” I said, not thinking about the double entendre when the words escaped my mouth.