King Maker (King Maker 3)

Her breaths were coming fast and she looked at me with frightened eyes. The urge to soothe took over. The back of my fingers made contact with her cheek. However, the need to kiss her made me take a frustrated step back.

We stood in a battle of iron wills. I searched her eyes for something. Anything that would tell me what was going on in that lovely head of hers. She searched mine and I kept my face blank, void of all the emotions that gathered deep in me. I couldn’t let her know just how far I’d fallen.

She’d obviously found what she was looking for because she turned and headed for the door.

“Don’t,” I said dangerously. Don’t leave, I almost added but wouldn’t say it. She had enough power over me as it was.

Her voice was sharp and cut into me more than she’d ever know. “Don’t what?”

Don’t fucking leave and break my heart all over again. But I didn’t say that either.

“Why are yer letting some arse put his fecking hands on yer?”

I used the full force of my brogue on her, channeling the warriors of old who would have tossed the lass over their shoulder, taken her to bed, and had their way with her.

“My arse isn’t yours,” she spat as if I didn’t know that already.

“Have a care,” I said.

“What the hell does that mean? I care, I care that you made me look like I’d done something wrong in there.” She pointed her finger like it was a deadly weapon.

“And what would Turner think if he’d seen what yer did?” I said triumphantly. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “Yer dinnae need to work.” I could take care of her always, if she’d let me. I changed it to “help,” when her glare hit me full-force.

She flung her hands to her sides, balling them into fists. Her face flushed red, but not in embarrassment. She was preparing herself for the verbal assault I felt coming.

Her eyes tunneled into me with a fierceness I’d felt pride over. “Why shouldn’t I help? I have nothing else to do. No job.”

I closed my eyes because she’d won. She was here because of me and that was the problem. It was my job to take care of her.

“I’m free to do whatever the hell I want. And I can take care of myself.”

“Yer done a bang-up job,” I said.

Her eyes widened and bitterly she huffed out a laugh. “So it’s my fault?”

“If yer would have left when I told yer to.”

“And maybe it wouldn’t have been me but one of my sisters or someone else in the community.”

It was her turn to close her eyes and breathe deeply.

“Look. That’s wrong of me. I’m not above admitting I’m wrong. I should have left. I should have listened to you. I was wrong about a lot of things,” she admitted.

There was a moment for me to do the right thing and leave her be. However, her statement gave me irrational hope. I stepped back into her space, forcing her to retreat until her back met the wall. A position that was always good for us.

I leaned in and did what I wanted to do. I pressed my lips to hers in an onslaught of need.

She started to move, so I caught her around the waist, holding her there as she melted into me. Her hand slid up my chest and fisted in my hair. Prepared to hoist her up so she could wrap her legs around my waist, I positioned my hand at her thigh.

The tug was sharp and caused me to curse under my breath. I pulled back and gazed into her frosty eyes. “This can’t happen,” she declared before storming back inside.

I stood panting, trying to work out my frustration. I shifted on my feet, adjusting the strain in my trousers. I took a shot with my fist against the wall, feeling my knuckles split against the stone. The pain was release and killed the lust in less than a second. I planted my head on the cool stones, wondering what the hell I was doing. I’d made an arse out of myself for nothing. I still lost the girl.

If not for the call I received a second later, I would have gone back inside.

Nineteen

Bits of dirt rose from underneath my stamping feet. The sun was low in the sky, barely a glowing ember. I’d sent Turner and Gabe ahead while I finished the shift to assist Jonas. He’d been short-staffed.

Though time had passed, my anger hadn’t.

It was too bad. I was in an extraordinary and lovely place and I’d only been trying to help.

Jonas, a kind man, had looked taken aback by an early rush and I’d offered to help. He’d looked relieved.

Then Kalen had blown in like a winter storm, all beautiful and deadly. It had taken all my courage to ignore his turmoil and advances. He didn’t want anyone else to touch me and didn’t want me at the same time.