The King(40)

So that all you could think of was taking it down and running your fingers through it.

She was perfect in every way.

And would not give him the time of day.

Which made her appearance up here with his bag of shit all the more remarkable.

“You have been gravely ill,” she said softly.

Trez’s eyeballs rolled back in his head. That voice. Shit, that voice.

Wait, she wanted him to respond, didn’t she. What had she—“Nah. I’m great. Just great.”

And becoming hard as a rock, fuck him very much. God, he hoped she didn’t catch the scent of his arousal.

“What may I do to help you?”

Umm … how ’bout drop the robe and hop up on this bed. After which you can ride me like a pony until I pass the hell out.

“Would you care for some of this food?”

“What food?” he mumbled.

“Your brother prepared for you that bag.”

Had the bastard even been here? he wondered.

“You just asked him to leave?”

Guess so. “Oh, yeah. Right.”

Trez eased back against the pillows and winced. As he went to rub his temples, he sensed her approaching the bed—and with a fast move, he yanked the heavy duvet higher on his belly.

Sometimes “naked” meant so much more than just “I don’t have any clothes on.”

Man, her expression was so worried. To the point where he had to force himself to remember she’d blown him off before. Which she really had.

Yup, as faulty as his short-term memory was—at least when it came to, like, his brother being in the room—he could recall exactly where he’d been when he’d seen this female last … as well as her less-than-enthused response to him.

He also remembered precisely how he came to know (of) her. He’d heard her name as soon as Phury had released the Chosen from the Scribe Virgin’s Sanctuary and Selena, along with the others, had started living off and on at Rehvenge’s Great Camp up in the Adirondacks. He’d even caught sight of her from time to time, but shit had been going down with Rehv and he’d been distracted.

That had passed, however. And he and iAm had gone up there at Rehv’s request recently—which was when he’d met her properly, one-on-one.

Okay, iAm had been with him, but he’d likewise put the guy out of mind. Then again, the moment he’d seen that female he’d forgotten his own name, most of his English vocabulary, and seventy-five percent of his sense of balance.

Instant. Cosmic. Attraction.

At least, on his part.

She was less struck stupid, of course—although he’d had hopes. And stalker tendencies. For the past week, he’d hung around the mansion for however many nights in a row, hoping to see her in the midst of one of her visits to service the Brotherhood. Because, hey, nothing says, “I wanna date ya,” like grounds for a restraining order.

Eventually, he’d won the lottery and managed to “run into her.” Like the simp he was, he’d told her she was beautiful—and not in a pickup-line kind of way. He’d actually meant it. Unfortunately, and unlike the countless human women he macked on, she’d remained unimpressed.

So again, why the visit up here?

Not that that was a question he was going to look too closely at.

“What may I get you?” she said. And man, that earnest concern put him to shame.

“Ah … actually one of those Cokes, please?”

Oh, yeaaah, the way she moved as she went over to the bag she’d put down. So smooth and even, her hips shifting under that robe, her shoulders counterbalancing, her …

He averted his eyes from her posterior assets.

Although, dayum.

As she came over to the bed, he moved himself closer to the middle of the mattress, hoping she would sit down. She didn’t. She bent at the waist and handed him the plastic bottle. Then she stepped back, keeping a respectful distance.

The soda let out a hiss as he unscrewed the cap.

“Please tell me what ails you.”

Her hands twisted in front of her, wringing, wringing.

“Just a migraine.” He took a long draft off the bottle. “Wow, that’s good.”

The view was better.

“What is it?”

“Coca-Cola.” Trez paused before his second hit, realizing she wasn’t asking about the Real Thing. “A migraine’s a kind of headache. No big deal.”

Well, except for the fact that his lasted up to twelve hours and made him feel like death.

Her beautiful eyes narrowed. “If it’s not of concern, why was your brother so worried?”

“He’s like that. A hysteric.” Trez shut his lids and draaaaaaaaaaaaaank. And once more. “Nectar of the gods, for real.”