“Are you well?” King asked.

I kept my eyes closed. For one, his voice was pretty magical. Deep, warm, and it had a soothing vibration to it I found was relaxing. And for two, I was afraid if I looked at him I’d do something like throw my arms around him and burrow into his neck. It was what my body wanted even though it was a ridiculous idea.

“I’m fine. I just needed some quiet and fresh air.”

He squeezed my hand but didn’t remove his own. I liked the way it felt. It was just as soothing as his voice. Maybe more so. “These dinners usually get loud with everyone talking over each other.”

“How often do you do this?” I peeked at him and yep, my insides did backflips.

“Whenever I’m in town. I met Luis when I was fourteen. I watched him fall in love with Marcy. I used to live in your room.”

“My room? You mean the guesthouse?” Without thinking I opened my eyes and turned to look at him. Which meant I was staring at him and got lost in those soulful brown god-of-thunder eyes.

“Yeah.” I really liked the way he smiled. Like it was a secret he was sharing with me. “For about three years.”

It was disconcerting how little control I had over my body when I was near King. It was as if a wall came down between my brain and everything else, blocking all logical thought. I’d never reacted so strongly to anyone before and I was starting to believe it wasn’t just because he was handsome or famous. It was because my body liked his body. My body wanted his body. Every muscular inch.

“Three years? That’s a long time.”

He shrugged. “I was on two different circuits racing every week. I didn’t spend a lot of time there. It was just a safe place to land.”

Something about that sentence—safe place to land—jump-started my brain. It reconnected to my body and suddenly I wasn’t just physically attracted to King . . . there was this electric emotional connection too.

Where was his family? Why didn’t he live with them? Why did he choose the word safe?

“I didn’t realize you were so close to Luis and Marcy.”

His eyes raked over me from my hair, to my face, down my arm to where our hands were still clasped. “You’ve been busy. They’re very proud of you, just so you know.”

“I’m getting the impression you know more about me than I know about you.” Was that why King hopped to my rescue today at the gym, why he so earnestly and adamantly asked for help in the meeting? Was I more than a stranger to him?

That thought was bizarre but also comforting because it explained so much of his ease with me.

“They talk about you a lot,” King said quietly. “Your pictures are all over the house. You’re kind of hard to miss.” His thumb grazed mine. “I do know about you. More than I should considering we’ve only met recently.”

“What do you know?” And why are you still holding my hand? It was familiar and just a little bit possessive. It was also important to note that I wasn’t pulling it away.

“I know all about your degree. Marcy never stops chattering about it. I think she has designs on making you a younger version of her.”

I blushed because that was an immense compliment. Marcy had an MBA to satisfy her family and to fulfill her family legacy, but first she’d gotten a master’s degree in sociology. It affected how she saw the world and as my default second parent, she taught me to see the world that way, too. It was why I went into anthropology. Same focus, different technique.

“Is that why she convinced me to take this job? She wants me to be practical like she is?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged and his thumb made another pass over my skin sending a fresh round a sizzling goodness to the butterflies in my stomach. “They worry about you being too . . . what is the word Luis likes to use?” A thoughtful smile curved his luscious lips. “Oh, that’s right, he worries you’re too altruistic for your own good.”

I sputtered in protest but the words died before they reached my lips. “He’s right. I don’t care about money. I want to love my research and nothing else really matters.”

Pass, pass, rub. His thumb would be the death of me. “That’s not a bad thing. Unless you’re too broke to pay the bills.”

“My mom likes to say ‘follow your heart the money will follow.’ Marcy hates that attitude.” If there was one thing they disagreed on wholeheartedly it was that. Mom would leave the room and Marcy would whisper admonishments and vice-versa. Mom didn’t want me to wind up in a soulless job that I hated. A nine-to-five existence of drudgery. While Marcy worried I would be homeless and starving.

“I tend to agree with Marcy. If you take care of yourself you can be as altruistic as you want later. It’s hard to go the other way around. Luis is a fine example of that.”

I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Kingston Reynolds was pressed against me. Knee to knee, thigh to thigh, arm to arm. I tried and failed to block out the sensation of his heat seeping into me, his thumb rubbing circles against my skin.

What the hell was happening?

He continued while I had an internal meltdown of lust and embarrassment as if none of this affected him at all. “Luis didn’t have a powerful family or a trust fund. He built his entire career. He mentored and tutored in his spare time. That goodness was always apart of him and he never ignored it, but he put his effort into his career first. Now he can put a large amount of money and power into helping others.”

King spoke of Luis with reverence. “And what does King Reynolds want to do with his life?”

His thumb paused and I immediately missed the soothing sensation. “To keep my job. I’ll figure the rest out later.”

He sounded so . . . sad. “Here’s what I don’t understand. If you have Luis—one of the team owners—in your corner, why is your job in question? Why do you need my help?”

I wasn’t so naïve that I didn’t understand there were internal politics at play. Of course there were power struggles and long-term plans I knew nothing about. But seriously. With as talented as King was and it being Luis’s freaking team, he should have more job security.

“Luis is the minority owner and the Braun side of the team is completely dedicated to Yedlin. You saw how the older members of the company view a newcomer like me. They don’t want me here. Luis is the only reason I’m being given a chance. And it’s a one-shot opportunity. I either prove they can’t do this without me, or they’ll replace me with someone more to their liking. Someone with a famous last name.”

“And there’s really nothing Luis can do about it?”

He shook his head. “Other than sell his part of the team and leave? No.”

“Would he do that?” I turned, pulling his hand into my lap, not thinking about the fact I was putting this incredibly sexy man’s hand in my crotch or the fact that I was now holding his much larger hand between both of mine. It was so natural. It felt like this was exactly how we should always talk.

King blinked, stared at our hands as if the new arrangement fascinated him. “No. I don’t think so. He likes to threaten it, but I doubt he’d pull away. He’s wanted into racing for years and the team needs his capital to stay solvent. Leaving would hurt everyone.”

So King needed me. Well, he needed help from someone. Did I really want to be that someone? Could I really help him secure his place on the team? This weird welling of excitement began to bubble up inside me. It was like when I played softball and we were behind. I had a bit of a competitive side when it came to sports, even if I was only mildly talented. I got off on the thrill of it though, and right now, King’s future was a lot like a sport.

I could help him.

And that was exhilarating.

I gave him a smile. “Then I guess my plan better work, huh?”

He searched my eyes. It was whoa intense. Like having a spotlight suddenly turned on in front of an audience while naked. “Yeah, I guess so.” Then he grimaced. “I wish you weren’t so nice.”

I felt my eyebrows jump on my forehead. “You wish I weren’t nice? Why?”

He flipped his hand over and captured mine again. My heart mimicked the same flipping motion as he spoke in hushed, frustrated, reverent tones. “Because it would make it a lot easier to be near you without wanting to kiss you.”