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"You’re not good at hiding your thoughts, you know?" She tilts her head.
My cheeks burn, and I lock my fingers together in front of me.
“Oh, so you noticed?” I laugh nervously, and she joins in. "It’s the curse of having such fair skin," I mumble.
"Or a pure mind." She half smiles. "It’s okay to be innocent. In fact, it’s preferable one retains a core of innocence at heart. Just don’t be naive when it comes to making decisions, okay?"
If she only knew of the decisions I made to get here, she wouldn’t think I’m that innocent. Guess I’m a better actress than I gave myself credit for. I bite the inside of my cheek. "Thanks Zara, I really appreciate you taking me under your wing."
"You’ve more than pulled your weight over the past few months on the campaign. Without your efforts, my husband couldn’t have been elected as the Prime Minister." She smiles.
I hunch my shoulders. "Th-thank you so much."
"Raise your chin," she orders.
"Eh?"
"Raise your chin, girl, and accept the praise. Own it like a mother—ducking—fitch." She glances down at the still sleeping baby in her arms, then back at me. "Oopsie."
I can’t stop myself from laughing. I move closer, then study the little bundle in her arms. "He’s sooo small."
She scoffs. "He didn’t feel that small when I pushed him out of my va—a—ah—ina. You know what I mean?"
"Jesus, that’s too much information," a deep voice rumbles.
The hair on the nape of my neck rises. I know who that is. I know that sinful baritone belongs to a man whose soul is as dark as his voice.Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around.
It’s as if I have no control over my body anymore. As if I’m the puppet and he’s the puppeteer to whom I’ve handed over control. I pivot and take in the man lounging in the doorway.
The man I haven’t seen for eight months. So, I counted the days and scanned my phone almost every hour I was awake, hoping to hear from him. And reached for my phone almost every day to text him. I managed to reign myself in.Thank god.
My friends were a welcome distraction. I spent time with Solene whenever she was in town. I also hung out with Isla and Amelie—who I met through Zara—and I’ve become fast friends with them. Of course, it helps that Solene moves in the same circles as Isla and Amelie, thanks to her sister Olivia’s connection to the Sovranos and the Seven.
They knew I was involved with Cade, but I didn’t give them the background to our relationship. Or rather, our non-relationship, as it turned out to be. My friends, in turn, did their best to distract me, and almost succeeded. Almost. Except for the night I broke down in front of Solene. Even then, I couldn’t tell her everything. She assumed my tears were because I missed Cade, but that was only half-true. She comforted me, then took me home and put me to bed. And I survived another day without the twatface—the handsome devil currently watching me with interest. Now, I square my shoulders and finally raise my gaze to his face.
As always, the impact of his beauty is like a truck smashing into my chest. Dark hair that’s cut short at the sides—shorter than when I last saw him—and long on top. Square jaw, mis-matched eyes so bright they seem to draw every inch of light in the room. High cheekbones, the makings of a five-o-clock shadow on his chin, even though it’s not even noon. He straightens, and his shoulders fill the doorway. Then he prowls toward me, and the rest of the room recedes. His wide chest is sculpted enough that the grey Henley he’s wearing stretches across his pecs. His waist is narrow, his powerful thighs straining the worn jeans he’s wearing. His gaze locks with mine, and as always, it’s as if he’s reaching into my mind and gleaning every dirty fantasy I’ve harbored about him all these months.
Jesus, how I’ve missed him.I trawled his social media feeds, tuned into the cricket matches, and stalked the tabloid gossip columns for any news I could get about him. I learned a lot about the sport and found out more about the countries whose teams he competed against. I also froze the screen every time there was a close up of him during a match, and again, when it focused on him deep in discussion with his teammates, on and off the field. So, I began to understand his role as the team captain and the fact that he’s what they called a team player.
The alphahole who was mean to me, before he shared his biggest secrets with me, is very loyal when it comes to defending his team members against the media and against the athletes on the opposing teams gunning for them… All of which paints a far more complex picture about this guy than I could have imagined.
But it doesn’t tell me much more about the man himself. If anything, it confused me about who the real Cade 'the King' Kingston is.Is he the man who bullied me? The man who spanked me and made me orgasm? The man who confided in me after making tender love to me? Or the man who put his team-mates before himself on the sports field, regardless of the fact that it could have cost him the opportunity to smash records on the playing field? Or is he the man who fucks his way through the beds of supermodels and actresses?
Yeah, he appeared in the tabloids at various gala events around the world—each time with a different woman on his arm. I should hate him for it. And I do. He went from my bed into those of these other women. I’d been nothing but easy pussy. Perhaps, that’s why he shared himself with me—so he could soften me up enough so I’d open myself to him that last time we made love. And that was special. It was mind-blowing, the most emotionally moving experience of my life. Even now, as I think of the connection we shared, of how he handled my body, my pussy clenches, my chest tightens, and my pulse speeds up.
Some of my thoughts must be reflected on my face, for those mismatched eyes of his flash. His gaze grows heated as he looks me up and down. He takes a step in my direction when the baby mewls. Zara shushes the child, but the spell is broken. He draws himself to his full height, then wipes all expression from his face. He glances toward his sister, and my muscles sag. It’s as if I’ve been released from a tractor beam. He heads toward his sister, and his features form into an uncomfortable expression. "Didn’t mean to overhear that earlier conversation," he mumbles.
"Nonsense. You’re perfectly aware of how the birthing process takes place," Zara scolds him.
"Yes, but so far, births and anything to do with them have only been a concept, just like the fact you’re a mother now is something I’m still trying to wrap my head around," he drawls.
He walks over to stand on the side of the bed opposite me. Which leaves the entire expanse of the bed between us, thank god. His fingers are looped around one pink and one blue balloon, which say, ‘baby boy’ and ‘baby girl,’ respectively.
"Was covering all my bases, since you kept us guessing until the last moment," he explains, then glances down at the baby in her arms. "Wow, you really are a mom."
"And you’re an uncle."
Cade’s face lights up. He thrusts out his chest and pulls back his shoulders. "I can’t wait to teach him how to play cricket."
