Page 66 of A King’s Obsession

“And you think that could be me?” I asked, surprised by how much I wanted to hear his answer.

“I think about you when I’m supposed to be doing other shit. Your voice. That perfume you wear. The way you look at me when you think I’m talking crazy.” His mouth curved as his eyes moved over my face. “Then you get to work, and I have another reason to want you around.”

My fingers tightened around the stem of my glass.

“I’m not trying to tell you I know everything about you,” he continued, his tone growing softer. “I want to find out. But I’m too grown to keep pretending I don’t want you while you sitting right in front of me.”

I looked down, smiling despite myself. The breeze lifted a strand of hair across my cheek, and he reached over to move it, his fingers lingering near my jaw.

“Look at me, Jru,” he murmured, waiting until I raised my eyes.

I did.

“You want me?” he asked, his gaze holding mine.

I could have made him work harder for the answer. Could have hidden behind the business offer, the dress, any of the reasons I’d been giving myself to keep this professional.

But I was tired of pretending too.

“Yes,” I admitted, barely recognizing how softly the word left my mouth.

His expression changed before he smiled. Something in his shoulders eased, though his eyes stayed fixed on me.

“Come here,” he said, extending his hand toward me.

I stood and went around the table. He drew me between his knees, one hand settling at my waist while I rested mine against his shoulders.

Up close, all that confidence was harder to defend myself against. So was the way he waited, giving me enough time to move away before I leaned down.

Our first kiss started slowly.

Then his hand tightened at my waist, and I forgot about the candles, the skyline, the waiter somewhere beyond the terrace. I held on to his shoulders, feeling his smile when I kissed him again instead of stepping back.

“You still got questions about the meeting?” he murmured against my lips, his hand remaining at my waist.

I laughed against his mouth, still close enough to feel his breath. “A few.”

“Bring ’em with you,” he answered, smiling before finally letting me step back.

The ride back felt shorter. His hand rested over mine, and neither of us bothered pretending the quiet meant we had nothing to say.

At the hotel, he walked me to my door. I found my key, then stood with it in my hand while he watched me.

“Goodnight, Mr. King?” I asked, looking up at him with a small smile.

He smiled back, his eyes searching mine. “That what you want?”

I shook my head, suddenly finding it harder to be bold with him standing so close.

“Then tell me,” he encouraged, making no move to leave.

I opened the door and caught his hand before he could step away.

“Come inside,” I whispered, holding his gaze.

He followed me inside, and I set the key down with hands that suddenly didn’t know what to do next.

“You got quiet,” he observed, watching me with a faint smile.