Jackie Ashenden - King's Price

Yet the way Leon King was looking at me, so blatantly sexual... No one had looked at me like that in a long time, if ever. But what was even worse was the sudden wave of heat that licked over my skin in response. Like I’d been caught in the backdraught of a wildfire.

It was so intense I looked away despite all my determination not to, my cheeks getting hot.

Hell. I was blushing. When was the last time that had happened?

Pretending I was studying the crowd and not avoiding his gaze, I said, ‘I don’t want to marry you. Insurance policy or not.’

‘Why not?’

The question irritated me. Was he stupid? Did he really not know?

I steeled myself yet again to meet his dark golden eyes. ‘Why do you think? I don’t even know you.’

He gave an elegant shrug. ‘So?’

‘What do you mean “so”? You’re a complete stranger.’

‘Why does that matter? Complete strangers marry each other every day.’ He tilted his head, the lights striking deep gold from his hair, his gaze gleaming. ‘I presume your father told you that you’ll get my house. Plus I can throw in some more money to sweeten the deal.’

‘I don’t want your house and I don’t want your money,’ I said flatly.

‘Sex then. You can have me.’ That smile lost its edge, became warmer, which somehow made it seem even more terrifying than before. ‘I assure you I’m worth it.’

He was so damn arrogant that I should have laughed. If he’d been another man, I would have. But again that strange heat licked up inside me at the words, a pull deep inside.

Yes, and remember what happened last time you felt that?

Shame. Humiliation. Pain.

No, I shouldn’t think of that. Chemicals, that was all this reaction was. Serotonin. Adrenaline. Dopamine. Nothing more.

‘No.’ I put every ounce of denial I could into the word, sitting up straight and tall to show him I meant business. ‘I don’t want you either.’

He laughed, a soft sound that made me shiver. ‘Then maybe your poor father doesn’t get his money.’

‘Why not? You’d really pull out just because I won’t marry you?’

He gave another shrug as if it wasn’t a big deal. ‘I’m not risking my money to your father’s promises, not without some guarantee.’

Dammit.

I shifted on the chair then rubbed my temples with one hand. The relentless beat of the music was giving me a headache and this was...not going like I’d planned. I’d thought he’d be a typical man, only concerned with having the beautiful trophy woman on his arm. But apparently he was different for some reason. Which was irritating.

Tell him it’s all off. Leave Dad to get out of this one himself.

I could. Except then the debt I owed Dad would still be there, hanging over my head. He’d got me away during the media storm, tried to cover my tracks and get rid of that recording. All the while facing the bankruptcy that I’d caused. I did owe him something.

Leon watched me, his gaze a searchlight uncovering all kinds of things I’d prefer to keep hidden.

‘What, exactly, is your problem?’ he asked. ‘I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, and at the end of six months you can have my house and a divorce. I’ll be leaving the country after that anyway. You’ll barely see me.’

He made it sound so reasonable. Why was I balking? I didn’t have any particular beliefs around marriage and love wasn’t real anyway. So what did it matter?

‘I don’t like...the attention,’ I said lamely, settling on the most logical reason for my reluctance. ‘I’m not comfortable being in the spotlight. And marrying you will draw attention.’

‘Of course it will. I want it to.’ His gaze wandered over me again and I felt my skin prickle in response. ‘I want people to think we’re in love, not that I married you purely to get an in with your father.’

Well, Dad had not mentioned anything about a love affair.

‘But that’s why you are marrying me,’ I pointed out.

‘Well, yes. I just don’t want other people to know that.’

‘Why not? Why should you care?’

He gave another of those soft laughs, his eyes gleaming. ‘The King family has changed, Miss Hamilton. We’re not the criminals everyone seems to think we are, not any more. And what better way to illustrate that than for one of us to fall desperately in love and marry a good woman from a very good family?’

‘Not to mention getting investors for your company’s expansion,’ I said dryly.

‘That too.’ He swirled the liquid in his glass. ‘It’s a multi-layered, complicated problem. I wouldn’t think too hard about it if I were you.’

Was that a not-so-subtle dig at my intelligence? ‘Not to worry my pretty little head, you mean?’

He shrugged, his gaze guileless, and didn’t answer. ‘Did you know I was supposed to be meeting Clara for our first public date tonight?’ he asked instead. ‘She didn’t turn up, but you did.’

Public dates? Dad hadn’t mentioned anything about public dates.

Because he knew you’d refuse.

‘I didn’t know Clara was supposed to be here,’ I snapped, freshly annoyed at my father all over again. ‘Dad didn’t mention it to me. And I’m certainly not here to be her stand-in either.’

‘Clearly not.’ He tilted his head. ‘What have you got against a bit of attention, though?’

Great. That was all I needed. To drag up what had happened to me ten years ago. I didn’t want to talk about it and I especially didn’t want to talk about it to him.

‘I just don’t like it,’ I said.

‘Bullshit. Must be something pretty bad for it to involve coming to talk to me personally.’

Dammit. My options were either lying or simply not answering the question, but I was hopeless at lying and I had a feeling he wasn’t the type to simply drop a subject.

Hiding it wasn’t an option either, not when a quick search on my name would bring up the video. No matter how hard Dad had tried to scour it from the Internet, he hadn’t been able to. The Internet was for ever and so was my video.

He’ll see it if you tell him.

My jaw tightened. Well, everyone in creation had seen it, so why should I care if he did? Possibly he already had.

‘Google my name and you’ll find out.’ I lifted my chin and folded my hands in my lap so I wouldn’t be tempted to bite on my nails.

He gave me a long, silent, assessing look. Then he put down his glass and reached into his pocket, bringing out his phone.

I opened my mouth to tell him that he should wait until I wasn’t around at least. But his long fingers were already moving over the screen and a moment or two later he lifted his gaze from the phone and looked at me.

I blushed again, the old feelings of humiliation and shame washing over me, but I shoved them away. I wasn’t that girl in the video, not any more.

Instead, I stared, daring him to say a single word.

He merely lifted one dark brow. ‘So you had a sex tape drama. Who hasn’t?’

Was he being flippant? I couldn’t tell.

‘But you can see why I don’t want any kind of public attention. I don’t want anyone dragging that up again.’

‘You’re thinking about this all wrong, sweetheart.’ Casually, he dumped his phone on the table then sat back against the couch, lifting his arms along the back. ‘You could hide away for ever, afraid of all that coming back up again. Or you could go for a little revenge.’

It was not what I’d expected him to say.

‘Revenge? What do you mean revenge?’

‘A hot guy slept with you and humiliated you. And millions saw it. What better revenge than to show those millions of people another guy falling for you? Incredibly handsome, sickeningly rich.’ He gave another smile, utterly and completely charming, and not at all modest. ‘Notorious. Not a man anyone would mess with. Yet you’d have him wrapped around your little finger.’