I poured a glass and rolled the bubbles over my tongue. It was sweet and tart and delicious. “Oh, King, I think I love you.”
I snorted at myself. Yeah, right. How could anyone love a man like that? Controlling, rude, cruel…The only redeeming quality I saw was his unfathomable good looks, which were instantly overshadowed by his barbaric shortcomings. I supposed some women might find his wealth attractive, too, but I wasn’t one of them. Something about that man just wasn’t right.
Yet, he still saved your ass tonight. That he had. I raised my glass into the air, mentally toasting to King. I would definitely thank him in person later. But how had he known where I was? How had we simply walked out of a secure area of an international airport? And what happened after I left?
I took another sip and mulled over the possibilities. Perhaps King was some international drug lord. That would explain his brute demeanor, his plane, and his connections at the airport. If that was so, why would he pimp himself out, rescuing people for money? That young receptionist who’d given me his number had told me that King saved her brother-in-law. That didn’t seem like the kind of task a drug lord would bother with. Perhaps he was ex-CIA turned mercenary?
I looked at the clock. Oh no. I only had two minutes to get downstairs. I dug into my overnight bag and threw on some clothes. It wasn’t even close to cold outside despite the time of year, so a tee, jeans, and tennis shoes seemed appropriate for whatever it was that I’d be doing.
Hell, what am I going to be doing? If King had already searched my brother’s apartment, then wouldn’t he have also covered the dig site? King didn’t seem like the type to spend his time on anything if there wasn’t a purpose to it, which meant he thought I could be of some use. But what? Why was I there?
At least you’re doing something. And something was better than sitting behind that horrible desk, which gave me nightmares, wondering about Justin, waiting for him to call. Or worse, waiting to hear he was dead.
I scrambled to the elevator, down to the lobby, and outside, where the SUV waited.
I jumped in.
“You are late,” said the driver. His accent didn’t sound Mexican. More…Middle Eastern. “Mr. King doesn’t appreciate tardiness.”
“Uh. Sorry. I’ll tell him it’s not your fault.”
The driver chuckled unappreciatively. “You think he will care?”
No, I guess I didn’t. “Sorry.” I squirmed in the leather seat, my mind spinning wildly with assumptions. What were we going to be looking for? What did King expect to find with me present that he couldn’t find on his own? Regardless, I wasn’t giving up the chance to learn something—anything.
“How far is the dig site?” I asked.
The driver shrugged. “About thirty minutes.”
“Are we picking up King?” I figured he’d taken a later commercial flight. Unless…he had two jets?
Hmm…I thought it over. Maybe he did. It wouldn’t surprise me. There was probably some minimum number of jets requirement for members of 10 Club.
“He is already there, waiting for you.”
That was strange. King had left Mexico City after me, yet he was already at the dig site? I supposed it was possible considering I’d had an hour break. But why had he gone ahead?
My nerves kicked in, and I suddenly had the urge to turn around. What was I thinking traipsing around in the Mexican jungle at one a.m. in the morning? With King, no less. And Chiapas wasn’t the safest of places even during the day. I’d lectured Justin about it several months ago when he’d taken the assignment. It was going to be his first time leading a team, and I was afraid his enthusiasm might make him overlook the safety factor. He assured me, however, that he’d done his homework. The local rebels, who called themselves Zapatistas, were no threat to anyone other than the government. “Fine. Then what about the drug traffickers?” I’d asked Justin. I’d done my fact-checking, too, and parts of Mexico were a warzone. People went missing all the time, especially anyone believed to have money.
“I’ll be fine, Mia. I promise. Most of the issues are up north, and they’re not interested in impoverished archaeologists.”
“But you’re so cute. I’m sure they’ll make an exception.” Like me, Justin had blond hair. Add those big green eyes and a sweet, goofy smile, he was instantly likeable.
Justin had laughed, and it had made me laugh, too. That was my favorite part about him. He had a kindness and levity that was infectious. “I promise I’ll be fine.”
Famous last words, Justin, I thought just as the SUV turned onto a dark, narrow dirt road that barely accommodated the large vehicle. Leaves slapped against the windows, causing me to flinch every time, but I was glad for the extra-large ride. The road was filled with deep potholes, muddy from a recent rain. Large rocks made navigating the terrain a slow, arduous task.
I leaned forward between the two front seats, trying to keep from getting carsick. “How much longer?”
“A few minutes.”
I tried to imagine Justin coming over this road every day. I could just see his face filled with excitement that he might find some hidden stash of museum-worthy artifacts.
“Fucking buttons,” I mumbled. Were they worth all this?
“Here we are.” The driver pulled into a small turnout and handed me a flashlight.
“Where are we?” I’d expected to see a clearing with piles of dirt and an unearthed temple or something.
The driver pointed to the jungle in front of us. “There is a path. Follow it.”
“But…” I blinked. “You’re not expecting me to go alone, are you?”
He shrugged. “My job was to drive you here. Nothing more.”
“Thanks a lot.” I opened the door. The night air felt wetter and thicker out there than it had back at the hotel.
I looked up. There wasn’t a single star in the sky. I turned on my flashlight and shined it toward the dense growth. A narrow opening had been cut away between two spindly trees.
I scratched my head. “You’re sure King is waiting for me?”
The driver continued facing forward. “Yes.”
“And you’re not going anywhere until I come back?”
“No.”
Shit. I didn’t want to go out there alone, but… “How far of a walk is it?”
I could practically hear the driver rolling his eyes.
“Never mind.” I started down the path. My knees and hands trembled to the rhythm of my self-deprecating thoughts. I was a fool to be doing this. A stupid fool. But Justin was my brother, and I would do anything for him. Even this.
I ducked under stray branches and pushed forward, my ears on high alert for any sounds, human or otherwise. The narrow path bent to the right, around an enormous tree covered in twisted vines. The smell of damp earth filled my lungs, and it made me think about being buried alive.
Stop it, Mia. You’re freaking yourself out.
A loud crunching of leaves stopped me in my tracks. I listened carefully and heard it again. The noise came from behind me.
“King?”
There was no reply, but the crunching became louder.
I picked up the pace. It was just an animal. It had to be. I began running, my frantic breaths making it difficult to take in the thick air. My foot hit a small pothole, and I went flying, face-first, into the mud. My flashlight dislodged from my death grip to land several feet in front of me.
I quickly picked myself up and glanced behind me. Two glowing orbs shined back.
“Fuck!” I scrambled my way over the muddy path as fast as I could go without tripping again. Oh my God. “King!” I screamed out. “King!”
I pushed through another dense wall of branches that lashed at my sweat-slicked skin and landed with another belly flop on the sticky ground. This time, I’d kept a hold on my flashlight, but when I lifted my head, I saw gray stone steps in front of me.
I shined my light up the face of the structure. I know this place. I know this place.
&nbs
p; Something grabbed me from behind, and I let loose a bloodcurdling scream.
King’s beautiful, cold eyes were inches from my nose. “Miss Turner, you’re late.”
I passed out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I can’t remember ever fainting before, but if given the chance to waltz over fiery coals from the pits of hell or faint in the midst of a horrifying situation, I’d take the coals. Because what they don’t tell you about fainting is that waking back up feels like having your brain scraped off the side of the road after being run over by a semi.
When my throbbing skull allowed me to open my eyes, my consciousness popped on like a light bulb. “Shit!” I sat up and immediately recognized where I was: my hotel room. The thick curtains were cracked open and a powerful beam of sunlight shined across the foot of the bed. I looked down at my body. I wore only my pink underwear and bra.
“Nice of you to join us, Miss Turner.”
I gasped. King sat in the corner of the room, his legs comfortably crossed, and his back to the unopened portion of the blackout curtains.
“What the hell is going on?” My chest heaved with panic.
He tipped his head to one side and smirked. “Just sitting here, enjoying the view.”
Although his face wasn’t in full sunlight, I saw his eyes scanning my nearly naked torso.
“Don’t,” I fumed. “Don’t you dare play stupid with me.”
He didn’t respond, but he didn’t stop checking me out either. Bastard.
I stood and went over to the closet for a robe. Son of a bitch.
“Whatever happened last night,” I called out, “you’d better start explain—” I turned with the robe in my hand, and King was right there, inches from my body. His piercing gaze drilled down, halting all thoughts in my brain.
“I’d better what?” He rubbed the thick, black stubble on his chin as if contemplating something immoral.
King didn’t wear his normal garb, but instead had on a well-fitting, black T-shirt that showcased every hard curve of his chest and upper arms. His jeans were no different in terms of illuminating the powerful muscles comprising his lower torso.
“Like what you see, Mia?”
“Huh?” My eyes snapped back to his face, but I couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than the sensuality of this man, especially those sinful lips and hypnotic eyes with shimmering silver highlights.
“I will take that as a yes,” he said in a low, deep voice.
I nodded, but didn’t know why. I didn’t want him. I didn’t. He was cruel and scary and—
He gripped my waist and spun us both around, planting my ass on the dresser. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back to stare possessively into my eyes.
I wasn’t scared, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I just knew I suddenly wanted him to do what he was doing.
He slowly dipped his head, and when his lips pushed against mine, I closed my eyes and relished the roughness of his kiss. He plunged his tongue between my lips, and I opened my mouth to him. The kiss was dangerous and dark. It was claiming and brutal. It pounded its way right through me, sending a hard heat charging between my legs.
I couldn’t get enough.
Suddenly, the man I was kissing felt like a different version of him. A version that was driven by passion and heart. A version that was powerful and determined, but never cruel.
I pushed my fingers through his black hair and savored the soft thickness of it. I slid my hands down to his broad shoulders and then glided them over the hard mounds of his pecs. God, he was so perfect.
I slipped my arms around him and pulled him closer, thinking about how I wanted our bodies to do what they were meant to.
Slowly, his hands journeyed over my breasts to my hips, down to my knees, where he jerked my legs open and slid his body between them.
“I’m going to break you, Miss Turner.”
My eyes jarred open, but it wasn’t King standing intimately between my thighs. It was a beast with black eyes and translucent skin.
I screamed.
“Nice of you to join us, Miss Turner.”
Panting, my eyes darted from side to side. Ceiling. I was looking at a ceiling.
“Oh my God.” What happened? I sat up. I was on the bed in my hotel room, fully clothed and covered in dried mud. Only the very edges of the comforter remained a pristine white. The rest was as filthy as I was. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was one in the afternoon.
Then I glanced at King, who sat in the exact same corner of the room as I’d just dreamed about. But had it been a dream? I felt violated and rabid. I felt like he’d been inside my head and my body, and I wanted to scratch the bastard’s eyes out.
I lunged for King, but he had more than enough time to react. He threw me to the hard tile floor, knocking the wind from my lungs. I gulped for air and swung with my fists. He lunged on top of me and pinned my arms above my head. I wiggled and flailed. I wanted to kill him.
“Mia, you will calm yourself,” he snarled in my ear, “or I will do it for you.”
My breath returned to my body, and I sucked in the much-needed air. “Fuck you, King.”
“I thought we established that you are not my type. Though, perhaps I could be persuaded.”
Ugh! I fought to free my arms, but he simply laughed while the weight of his body crushed me.
“Get off me!”
“Trust me, I have far better things to do than quell a temper tantrum.” His lips twitched. He seemed to be enjoying this.
I stilled and feigned calmness.
“You think I don’t know that trick?” he scoffed. “I can feel the frenetic pace of your heart against my chest. But you’re much weaker than I, Mia. I’ll have you back on the floor before you bat an eyelash the wrong way.”
I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the weight of his body pressing into me or that those intimate parts I’d just dreamed of were only separated by my muddy clothes and whatever he wore.
“We’ll stay here all day, if need be,” he cautioned. “However, if you continue to wiggle, you may trigger involuntary responses in my lower extremities.”
Damn him!
“By the way, just why are you so angry, Miss Turner?”
“Where do I start?” I growled.
“At the beginning.” Once again, his lips twitched, flashing a devious smile.
“Get. Off. Me.”
“As you wish,” he said, “but if you attack me again, I will not be so gentle. Although,” he paused for effect, “I am beginning to wonder if gentle is what you want.”
He rolled off, and I caught my breath. When I sat up, he was once again seated in the dark corner, calmer than an early morning breeze.
“Now, Miss Turner—”
“What happened last night?” I demanded.
“You fainted. I brought you here.”
“Is that all?” I asked.
He shrugged his dark, silky brows. “What do you think happened?”
I looked away. Okay. Maybe that sexual episode had been just a dream—a relief—but there was still the matter of everything else.
I rallied a bit of courage and met his intimidating stare head on. “Why did you bring me to Palenque, King?”
“Because I wanted to.”
“Enough!” Of course, my anger only seemed to amuse him. “You promised to help me find Justin, but you made me sit in that empty office for three weeks. Then you dragged me to the jungles of Mexico in the middle of the night, only to scare the shit out of me.”
My mind quickly flashed back to that ruin from the previous night. Wait. I did know it. The damned thing was the Temple of the Cross. Justin had sent pictures of it, and it was a well-known tourist attraction.
Not Justin’s dig site…Oh Lord. I covered my face. King is just messing with me.
“You brought me here to see how far you could push me, didn’t you?” I seethed.
He leaned forward in his chair an
d rested his forearms over the tops of his thighs. That’s when I noticed he wore jeans and a black T-shirt. A leather cuff, with several small buckles and about three inches wide, obscured most of his tattoo.
“You think I have time for petty games, Miss Turner? I brought you here because we have work to do.”
“What work?”
He stood and crossed the small distance to where I sat on the floor. “Get up.”
I didn’t like staring at his knees—made me feel like I was groveling —so I did what he asked. “I’m up, King. Now what?”
The man moved like a hungry viper and gripped my wrist. The veins in his muscular arms bulged with tension.
“Ow!” I tried to pull away, but he had the strength of ten vices. He flipped over my left wrist to expose the tender underside. I looked down at a black circle with the letter “K” boldly written in script in the center. The pale flesh was raised and red, like a fresh scrape.
“You tattooed me?”
“It’s for your own protection.”
“Are you insane?”
He leaned down to whisper in my ear. “What would you like me to say, Mia? That I own you? Every inch of you? That even those dark spaces inside your head belong to me? Because they do. You are mine now.”
Oh my god. Oh my god. He’s the devil. He’s got to be. I yanked my arm away, fully aware that he’d permitted me to do so. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gotten free. “Why would you do this to me?”
“Because, Miss Turner, it was necessary. And whether you like it or not, you no longer live in your naïve little world filled with designer heels, fancy lunches, and highlighted hair. It’s time to open your eyes.”
“Why? So I can see you’re an evil, sadistic prick who enjoys controlling me?”
He casually strode to the door and actually seemed offended. “You came looking for me. You asked for my help. And you are here because you want to be. The issue appears to be your willingness to admit the truth to yourself.” He yanked open the door, allowing the sunlight to pour inside the room.
“The truth is simple; I’m here because I want to find Justin.”