King of Hearts
Page 36
This trip was certainly going to be an interesting one.
***
I packed my swimsuit.
I wasn’t sure why, because I was fairly certain it wasn’t even going to be very warm in Rome at this time of year, but I packed it anyway. I hadn’t been to the beach in who knew how long. Maybe I could fit in a trip while King was meeting with the “suits.” That’s what I’d started calling them, because they all looked the same to me, just a bunch of walking Hugo Boss advertisements.
King had his driver come collect me from outside my building that morning. His bags were in the car, which it was my job to have checked, and apparently he’d meet me in the VIP lounge before boarding. Well, I was sitting in that very same lounge, and there was still no sign of him. I was beginning to worry, since our flight was supposed to board in just twenty minutes.
In order to pass the time, I pulled out my phone and checked my emails. It was a pleasant surprise when I saw one from Bradley titled “Some Pictures from the Shoot ;-).” Opening it up eagerly, I quickly downloaded them and started to browse. There were a couple from early on in the day, showing me with the other models. Then I got to the ones of me and King, and I paused. They were…well, I wasn’t quite sure how to describe them. All I knew was that they weren’t what I needed to be seeing right then, especially since I was trying to keep my hands off the man.
The first showed me straddling him as he sat on the chair, leaning casually back and staring up at me with unmistakable heat in his eyes. Wow. Now I understood what Bradley had meant when he said we photographed well together. It was only a picture, and yet you could practically feel the need pouring out of both of us. Either we were really good actors, or we wanted each other…badly.
I swallowed and scrolled to the next one, where we stood by the studio window, King’s arms around me and his lips at my ear. Seriously, this was more like porn to me than fashion. Without consciously realising it, I was squeezing my thighs together, my skin growing hot as I sat there, remembering. There were about ten pictures in total, and I flicked through them more times than bears mentioning. I was studying the one of me on King’s lap again when someone suddenly spoke low in my ear.
“What are you looking at?”
Startled at hearing his voice, I jumped and turned around, clutching my phone tightly to my chest. King chuckled and gave me a suspiciously amused look as he held out his hand. “Let me see.”
I snorted. It was pretty fucking elegant. “Noooo.”
A moment later, I took in his appearance properly, noticing that he was still wearing the same suit from yesterday. He looked more tired than I’d ever seen him, and he smelled like a brewery. It was so disconcerting that I failed to notice him lunging for my phone and pulling it from my grip. I watched as his fingers zipped across the screen before he handed it back to me. Forcing myself to look down, I saw he’d forwarded the pictures to his own email.
“That was a dirty move,” I complained.
He gave me a wry look. “I’m in those pictures, too. I have every right to see them.”
Well, he had me there. Still, it didn’t take away my embarrassment. Those photos were verging on soft-core porn, and he was my boss. It was so many levels of wrong, I couldn’t even begin to count.
This was why I needed to say no to Bradley’s propositions in future. Note to self: Don’t give in to the mischievous pixie boy next time. My cheeks began to flush as King came and sat beside me, pulling out his phone. It was ridiculous, because I was never normally embarrassed about sex stuff, but with King everything was just opposite land. I never quite knew where we stood with one another. I was silent as he focused on his phone, and I didn’t even have to look to know he was accessing his email and downloading the pictures he’d just forwarded.
God, I kind of hated him in that moment.
I tried to ignore him, but as the minutes ticked by, I lost the battle. Turning, I found his lips curved in what appeared to be a smug smile. The photos were displayed on the screen of his phone, and King kept scrolling back and forth, perusing them at his leisure as though taunting me to say something.
“Just delete them,” I sighed.
He glanced at me, brow arched. “Why would I do that?”
“Because we look stupid,” I huffed. We didn’t look stupid. We looked insanely hot for each other, which was exactly the problem. King was about to speak when an air hostess’s voice announced the flight was ready to board. I picked up my carry-on, noticing that King hadn’t brought anything with him other than a slim black briefcase. All of his things were in his checked luggage.
He gestured for me to go ahead of him, and I self-consciously smoothed my hands down the back of my skirt, wondering if I had a visible panty line. I’d always had this sixth sense for when someone was looking at my arse, and right then it was telling me that was exactly what King was doing. Was he actively trying to make this trip more difficult?
He leaned close, his mouth at my neck as he said, “I think we look fascinating.”
Fascinating. Right. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Once we were seated on the plane, King closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Despite his earlier playfulness, something was obviously up with him. I studied him a moment, then asked, “Care to share?”
One eye opened. He didn’t say a word, so I continued, “You’re wearing the same suit from yesterday, and you smell like you took a swim in a brewery. This isn’t like you.”
***
I packed my swimsuit.
I wasn’t sure why, because I was fairly certain it wasn’t even going to be very warm in Rome at this time of year, but I packed it anyway. I hadn’t been to the beach in who knew how long. Maybe I could fit in a trip while King was meeting with the “suits.” That’s what I’d started calling them, because they all looked the same to me, just a bunch of walking Hugo Boss advertisements.
King had his driver come collect me from outside my building that morning. His bags were in the car, which it was my job to have checked, and apparently he’d meet me in the VIP lounge before boarding. Well, I was sitting in that very same lounge, and there was still no sign of him. I was beginning to worry, since our flight was supposed to board in just twenty minutes.
In order to pass the time, I pulled out my phone and checked my emails. It was a pleasant surprise when I saw one from Bradley titled “Some Pictures from the Shoot ;-).” Opening it up eagerly, I quickly downloaded them and started to browse. There were a couple from early on in the day, showing me with the other models. Then I got to the ones of me and King, and I paused. They were…well, I wasn’t quite sure how to describe them. All I knew was that they weren’t what I needed to be seeing right then, especially since I was trying to keep my hands off the man.
The first showed me straddling him as he sat on the chair, leaning casually back and staring up at me with unmistakable heat in his eyes. Wow. Now I understood what Bradley had meant when he said we photographed well together. It was only a picture, and yet you could practically feel the need pouring out of both of us. Either we were really good actors, or we wanted each other…badly.
I swallowed and scrolled to the next one, where we stood by the studio window, King’s arms around me and his lips at my ear. Seriously, this was more like porn to me than fashion. Without consciously realising it, I was squeezing my thighs together, my skin growing hot as I sat there, remembering. There were about ten pictures in total, and I flicked through them more times than bears mentioning. I was studying the one of me on King’s lap again when someone suddenly spoke low in my ear.
“What are you looking at?”
Startled at hearing his voice, I jumped and turned around, clutching my phone tightly to my chest. King chuckled and gave me a suspiciously amused look as he held out his hand. “Let me see.”
I snorted. It was pretty fucking elegant. “Noooo.”
A moment later, I took in his appearance properly, noticing that he was still wearing the same suit from yesterday. He looked more tired than I’d ever seen him, and he smelled like a brewery. It was so disconcerting that I failed to notice him lunging for my phone and pulling it from my grip. I watched as his fingers zipped across the screen before he handed it back to me. Forcing myself to look down, I saw he’d forwarded the pictures to his own email.
“That was a dirty move,” I complained.
He gave me a wry look. “I’m in those pictures, too. I have every right to see them.”
Well, he had me there. Still, it didn’t take away my embarrassment. Those photos were verging on soft-core porn, and he was my boss. It was so many levels of wrong, I couldn’t even begin to count.
This was why I needed to say no to Bradley’s propositions in future. Note to self: Don’t give in to the mischievous pixie boy next time. My cheeks began to flush as King came and sat beside me, pulling out his phone. It was ridiculous, because I was never normally embarrassed about sex stuff, but with King everything was just opposite land. I never quite knew where we stood with one another. I was silent as he focused on his phone, and I didn’t even have to look to know he was accessing his email and downloading the pictures he’d just forwarded.
God, I kind of hated him in that moment.
I tried to ignore him, but as the minutes ticked by, I lost the battle. Turning, I found his lips curved in what appeared to be a smug smile. The photos were displayed on the screen of his phone, and King kept scrolling back and forth, perusing them at his leisure as though taunting me to say something.
“Just delete them,” I sighed.
He glanced at me, brow arched. “Why would I do that?”
“Because we look stupid,” I huffed. We didn’t look stupid. We looked insanely hot for each other, which was exactly the problem. King was about to speak when an air hostess’s voice announced the flight was ready to board. I picked up my carry-on, noticing that King hadn’t brought anything with him other than a slim black briefcase. All of his things were in his checked luggage.
He gestured for me to go ahead of him, and I self-consciously smoothed my hands down the back of my skirt, wondering if I had a visible panty line. I’d always had this sixth sense for when someone was looking at my arse, and right then it was telling me that was exactly what King was doing. Was he actively trying to make this trip more difficult?
He leaned close, his mouth at my neck as he said, “I think we look fascinating.”
Fascinating. Right. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Once we were seated on the plane, King closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Despite his earlier playfulness, something was obviously up with him. I studied him a moment, then asked, “Care to share?”
One eye opened. He didn’t say a word, so I continued, “You’re wearing the same suit from yesterday, and you smell like you took a swim in a brewery. This isn’t like you.”
