KILLIAN

 

Staring at Lucy, I gritted my teeth. This was unbelievable. Truly it was.

“Repeat that.”

Her serene smile required balls. Balls so big they’d split right through her pants. Ones that were an inch and a quarter too long for her frame. I didn’t like how they bunched at her ankles. Didn’t her neighborhood have a tailor? How much could it cost to hem them? Ten dollars? Twenty?

“You need to shut things down. You shouldn’t be late for your lunch with your grandfather. Hurry please.”

Yes, she did actually just talk to me as if I was a preschooler. What next? The “Everybody Clean-Up” song?

I slouched in my chair, fingers drumming against the desk’s smooth surface. “I don’t have a lunch with Gramps.”

“You certainly do, Mr. Killian.”

“I most certainly do not, Miss Lucy.”

There was that smile again. Pretty but utterly vacant. Did she really think I wouldn’t see through it? That I didn’t recognize it a million times over throughout my life?

“Fuck off, Miss Lucy.”

She froze. Fire, like that of an exploding boiler room, unleashed in her ebony gaze. Satisfaction and pride curled my lips. Lucy Martin would finally understand I wasn’t her pet project.

Nor would I be manipulated with false kindness.

I’d been stabbed in the back one time too many in thinking the outside matched the inside. Never again by people on the payroll and never by one of Grandfather’s watchdogs.

“Why did you say that to me?”

Conversational. Nothing to indicate she’d detonated silently upon hearing my vulgarity.

“Why do you think?”

“I’m asking.”

“I just answered.”

She crossed her hands at her waist, looking like she was either going to bow at any moment or jump across the desk and strangle me. Maybe one then the other? The uncertainty made this even more fun.

What a bonus.

“I made you uncomfortable, Mr. Killian. For that I’m sorry.”

Apologies now? Lucy could save her breath. 

“Your very presence is a study of discomfort. Go away and discomfort someone else.”

Lucy shook her head. A tiny thing of defiance. “I’m staying right here, Mr. Killian. You can count on it.”

Rolling my eyes, I once again mentally cursed my Grandfather out for sticking this gorgeous but annoying goddess on my backside. Was she a masochist? I could exploit that so easily, but she’d probably love me for it.

That wouldn’t do. Rumor had it parting was such sweet sorrow, but I counted on it. Lucy clinging to me? No.

Propping my chin on my palm, I stared her down. “Quadruple.”

Lucy blinked quickly. “Excuse me, I don’t understand.”

“Quadruple whatever my grandfather agreed to pay you this year.”

Her shoulders drew up. I angered her earlier but now I seriously offended the crap out of her.

“I won’t be bribed by you, Mr. Killian, so please don’t bring it up again.”

“Don’t be sanctimonious, Miss Lucy.” I found myself getting fonder of saying her name. I loved the way it rolled off my tongue. Luu-See. “Everyone has a price. It’s just a matter of negotiation.”

“No. Not everyone.”

A devil’s smirk possessed me. “You say that so confidently! Who tried to bribe you?”

Lucy’s expression shuttered. Locked up tight. No affirmation or denial passed those luscious pink lips. Definitely a mystery there.

Hmm…what to do? Dig further and perhaps find a nugget of passing interest? That presupposed Lucy would last long enough for me to keep caring. At the rate she traveled?

I couldn’t really say.

“Very well. You can’t be bribed to exit my life. What’s it going to take for me to see the back of you?”

A lovely back at that. So lovely it should be criminal. Or immortalized.

Lucy’s crossed arms twitched. I watched, fascinated, as her small hands curled into fists before relaxing. Interesting.

I couldn’t be blamed for what I did next. Truly.

Blowing out a long breath, I abruptly stood up. Lucy’s gaze jumped to mine, full of wariness. That wouldn’t do. Sauntering over to her, I watched this little goddess stand her ground.

Of course, she would. She was stubborn past the point of self-preservation.

I stopped just inches away from her. Hands tucked in pockets, I slouched just enough to make it look like every muscle in my body wasn’t tightly coiled.

Lies.

Staring into her moonless gaze, I suffered that strange jolt once again. What was this damnable feeling? I wanted to touch Lucy’s skin, to learn if it was indeed as soft as it looked.

To understand if this awareness was simply a by-product of my broken mind or actually real…

“You hate it here, Lucy Martin, as much as I hate you being here. Why stay? There’s so many other places in the world you could see. Especially if I quadruple your pay.”

“I don’t hate it here.”

“Don’t!” I wagged one finger in warning. “Don’t lie to me. I don’t take well to lying. Even small ones. You can tell me to fuck off, even do it with a smile on your face, but don’t lie about it. Understand? Tell me you do.”

Lucy’s breathing hitched. She stared at my finger before fixating her attention on my mouth. “I’m not lying. I don’t hate it here.”

“Really?” My drawl broke her fixation. Pity. I rather enjoyed it.

“Really.” She shook her head, blinking several times as if waking up. “I like my work.”

“Your work. Hmm…I didn’t take you for a snitch.”

“I’m not a snitch!” Her brows snapped over her eyes, furrowing two deep lines. Now we were getting somewhere.

I scored another hit. Kicked over another rock. It didn’t take much to deduce I’d raked Lucy Martin’s underbelly deeply. That I touched her past again.

Smirking, I shrugged as if I hadn’t noticed. “What do you like about being here then? Following me around like a dog? Dealing with my nasty personality? Knowing you’re completely unwelcome in this office? What?”

Lucy’s fists curled and uncurled twice before relaxing. Mad as it may have been, in this moment I’d have given up half my inheritance to know the thoughts zipping through her curious mind.

“I like helping.”

My good humor disappeared. “You’re not helping me at all.”

“I know.” Her chin shot straight up. “But I will.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who craved a challenge. Too bad for her because she picked the wrong one.

“Oh, Little Lucy…”

My chuckles faded as I stepped closer. This could turn out well or be a disaster. I couldn’t wait to find out which. Frankly, at this point, I didn’t even care much.

Anything was better than the indeterminably boring passage of time I suffered pre-Lucy.

My arms slipped around her curvaceous body. She jerked forward as if I tugged on a string. I settled my chin on her shoulder until my lips touched the delicate shell of her ear.

This close I could smell her perfume. Something light. Cherry blossoms. Orchids. A hint of jasmine.

Sweet. Innocent.

“You won’t win, Little Lucy. I’m who I am and I have zero interest in changing.”

“I don’t believe that. You and I both know you’re just saying that to discourage me, to make me quit.”

“Am I? I wonder if you’re right…”

Finishing my sentence didn’t seem important. Not when I could kiss her ear, bite on the lobe, and feel every delightful shudder go through her body. Maybe more. That would be predictable.

Standing here wouldn’t.

The seconds slid into repetition. Lucy should’ve pulled away, bleating about professionalism and appropriate behavior. Maybe threatening a lawsuit or two. She seemed the type outwardly, starched as she was.

But she let me hold her.

Lucy’s flaw wasn’t hers alone. I liked the discovery.

Her body, no matter how much smaller, fit mine. Perfectly. Her curves softened my hardness. We could’ve stood there until the world disintegrated and I honestly didn’t think I’d mind.

Strange.

Dangerous.

Just as her hands gained courage to touch my sides, I shoved away. Taking precious seconds to compose myself, I schooled my features into their usual mocking mask. It didn’t appear easily as usual.

“Stay or come with us. I don’t really care.”

Lucy’s features smoothed over. Once again, she surprised me.

“Mr. King is waiting for you. I’ll be here when you get back.”

I wouldn’t have known her heart fluttered in her chest like a trapped moth if I hadn’t felt it. Or perhaps it wasn’t hers. I couldn’t tell over the sound of blood thundering in my ears.

“Suit yourself.” I stalked over to the door and then threw out, “Lunch is on me. I’ll have it brought up to you.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to—”

“Lucy—shut it.”

I left the room, pleased to have her obey me. If only because she was too surprised to have an appropriate comeback. Who cared? A win was a win.

And I won.

In a much better mood, I strolled to Grandfather’s suite and caught Martha before she left. “Are you off to lunch?”

“Yes. Need anything?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Can you have a meal brought to Lucy?”

Her button eyes sparkled with a disgusting amount of glee. I instantly regretted not taking care of the order myself. Lesson learned.

“You’re getting along with Lucy then?”

“Order the saltiest thing on the menu and send it to her. On second thought—spice. Make it the spiciest. I hear she hates it. Imagine that.”

I didn’t walk away fast enough to miss her disappointed frown. Hardly my fault. What did she expect? Asking me if I got along with Lucy was like asking a prisoner if they got along with their jailer.

Insanity.

Flinging open Grandfather’s door, I felt his sharp stare rake right over me.

“Apparently, we’re on for lunch. Right?”

Grandfather grunted. Lovely. It was exactly what I craved when in Gramps’s presence. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Very well. My mistake. I’m rather busy today so I’ll just see you later.”

“Sit down, Killian. We’re leaving in five.”

Rolling my eyes, I stalked towards an armchair. Really? What was the point of this? We didn’t do lunch. Or dinner. Or much of anything outside of the bare minimum when it came to work.

Unless Gramps was attempting to impress his newest protégé?

How repugnant.

Don’t forget infuriating.

Poisonous thoughts slinked about my ankles like evil cats, which was a shame considering how much I liked them. Originally, I’d thought Lucy was a gold digger who’d struck a deep vein in an old fool, but perhaps I was only half-right. Staring at Rafael King beneath a hooded glare, I wondered if he’d wanted Lucy to be more than a watchdog.

Dream on, Gramps. Not going to happen. Not as long as I have more than two brain cells bobbing about.   

 “Cast your ugly stare somewhere else, Killian. I have neither the patience or the time to deal with it.”

How did he always know? The old man had eyes in the back of his head!

“There’s nothing for you to deal with, Grandfather. I’m just being a good boy and waiting for my dear old grandfather. Maybe if I’m really good you’ll get me an ice cream cone?”

My words may have been mocking, but they couldn’t stop the real memories from lighting up to give me an unwanted dose of pain. Years ago, long before the antiseptic smell of hospitals dominated everything, Grandfather used to take me out once a week.

I was his special boy for a short time.

He’d pick me up in his red Bentley, all gorgeous crème leather, and we’d go to the only place in the world I never got tired of exploring. The factory. Longtime employees called out my name, smiles on their faces as they patiently explained their jobs for the shift and what was coming next down the line.

It was no place for a child, but we were all careful. Me most of all. I couldn’t chance being clumsy and being locked out for my own good. Not when there was all this wondrous organized chaos taking place around me.

Vats full of pigment. Automated lines filling signature tubes of lipstick. Others depositing colorful circles into palettes, stamping each one with a rose.

Precise. Perfect.  

“One day, when I’m gone, all of this will be yours. King to King.”

I’d look about the cavernous room, oversized coat on my little body and cap engulfing my head, and feel the pride of being Rafael King’s grandson and heir. His perfect boy. The one he entrusted with his kingdom.

I imagined my life as a grownup. Working hard to take care of all these people, so that King Cosmetics would live on for their families and mine. I couldn’t wait until I could come down to the floor and help when we got a larger than normal shipment for a chain of shops in Malaysia.

I had a big imagination back then. Back when I actually believed I had a choice in how my future unfolded.

The hours would fly by until it was time for us to leave. I wasn’t ashamed to admit I’d thrown a tantrum or two.

I was Ernesto’s helper. How else was he going to get the shipment checked if I wasn’t there to make sure all the packages were perfect? Or how was Helene going to make sure the Carina Crimsons weren’t mixed up with the Paulina Pinks when the line switched? And Martha. Who was going to help Martha with the packing slips?

Grandfather always had an ace up his sleeve. The promise I’d get to come back the next week, a delicious lunch now, and the best treat of all afterwards were enough for me to wipe my tears and leave our wonderland.

Ice cream cones with a Hershey’s Kiss at the bottom capped off those halcyon days.

Too bad everything always changed. Memories were all we had left and sometimes they served more as a torment than a comfort.

Gramps seemed to feel the same.

His mouth tightened into an unhappy line as he looked away from me. Bet he wished he could take back that promise. It was all right. I already knew he had no intention of leaving me anything.

In fact, he was going to live long enough for Timmy to grow up and take over.

Where that left me didn’t matter. Timmy was a real King while I was…something extraneous. My map was already written the moment of my conception.

After all, Prince Von Hügel wasn’t going to live forever either. Eventually, I was expected to take his title and all the bullshit that came with it.

I was on loan to Rafael King until then. And neither of us ever forgot it.

“Ready, Killian?”

No. I was never going to be ready for that. But for now I could pretend I was simply Killian King and I still had a kingdom inhabited by Carina Crimsons and Paulina Pinks.

Besides, there was Little Lucy. If I stretched things out, I’d be able to play with her puzzle for at least another week. The painful memories receded, leaving me with a foreign sense of anticipation for the future.

I stood up with a genuine smile. “Where do you want to eat today? Cuban I take it.”

Grandfather’s head rocked back a bit. He eyed me, expecting the other shoe to drop.  “Are you okay?”

No. When was I ever? But for the life I lived, this was as close as it got.

“Never better, Gramps. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”