King splashed another handful of water on his face and shut off the water. He grabbed the hand towel from the marble countertop, dried off, and then went into his bedroom and sat on the padded leather bench at the foot of his own king-sizebed.
He was going to tell Laura Dawson exactly how it was going to be from here on out and make sure that she understood she and the child would be staying here until her brother was captured. Then they could go on about their merry way and resume their normal lives and King could resume his. No more memories. No moreemotions.
Chapter 10
Laura staredat herself in the mirror of the bathroom after her shower, feeling partially recharged and revitalized, tugging on the maroon silk spaghetti strap top to try and get it to loosen up across her chest to no avail. Melissa would have been the only one to loan her clothes and she was obviously a full two cup sizes smaller. Her cleavage, which already ran almost to her neck, strained against the shirt, testing its limits. At least the shorts fit decently, only slightly tight across her bottom. It would work for something to sleep in, and considering how no one besides Faith would see her in it she relaxed. It really had been nice to take a shower and put on clean clothes. Now that she was taking care of the external parts, she could handle the coming conversation withKing.
Laura searched for a bathrobe in the expansive cabinets and carved wood armoire against the wall, finding absolutely nothing. A quick search of the bedroom provided just as much help as the bathroom. She couldn’t go anywhere in this skimpy outfit, least of all prancing around in front of King. Her body’s already confusing reaction was enough to make her realize she needed as much armor on as possible when she was around theman.
She cracked the bathroom door, allowing a sliver of light into the darkened bedroom and paced quietly at the foot of the bed, careful not to wake Faith. How much time did she have? Could she stand to wait until tomorrow to talk to him and find out exactly what he thought her brother had done? No, of course she couldn’t, she had to find a way to make him see reasontonight.
From the silent death knell that had rang throughout the foyer earlier when they mentioned who she was, she knew King wasn’t the only man on his team under the misconception about her brother. She’d bit her tongue for as long as she could, and she knew that if King just told her everything, she’d be able to show him that he was obviouslymistaken.
She took a deep breath and adjusted her top, attempting to pull the material at least an inch higher, but as soon as she let go, it slid right back intoplace.
Frustrated she went back to the bathroom and speared her fingers through her towel-dried hair, attempting to put some semblance of order to the mopping mayhem of loose curls. Finally satisfied that she’d done the best she could, she gave herself a once-over and rolled her eyes. This outfit could qualify for any stripclub.
She left the bathroom and went out of the bedroom, telling herself her clothing did not matter. King had probably been with dozens of women. A man that ruggedly handsome would have had his choice to pick from. He probably wouldn’t even notice her clothing, or lackthereof.
Determined she put her hand on his doorknob and chickened out, choosing to go with a light knock and wait for permission to enter. She had no desire to barge in on him changing clothes or something; it was hard enough to keep her eyes off of his chest when he walked aroundshirtless.
When he told her to enter in that deep gravelly voice of his she straightened her spine and pulled back her shoulders, opening the door. She froze on the spot, chicken that she was and wavered in thedoorway.
King lounged back on a thick leather padded bench that ran the length of the foot of his bed, his elbows propped on the mattress behind him and his long shaggy black hair hung long and loose. As she watched, he slowly sat up, the obviously hard big muscles of his chest and arms rippling with the movement. She swallowed as a rush of butterflies tickled herstomach.
He brought you here against your will, remember? So what if he looks like a sexy pirate, or if his silky black hair begged her to run her fingers throughit.
He’s the badguy.
Oh my God, stop staring at him and saysomething.
King got to his feet, his full towering height impossibly intimidating. Why did she have to talk? Why did she have to say something? He was the one who wanted to talk in the firstplace.
He dragged his hand down his beard, and she suddenly wondered if he was searching for the right thing to say. Had he realized he might’ve made amistake?
She sure as heck wasn’t going to find out if someone didn’t break the silence. She tried to read his expression, but found nothing but that same burning intensity. Was he mad?Frustrated?
“You wanted to talk?” There, she sounded firm. Like an adult.An adult female struggling with Stockholm syndrome. Being attracted to your captor was psychology101.
“I did,” he finallysaid.
“And?”
“Andwhat?”
“You wanted to talk about what exactly?” Frustrated, she crossed her arms over herchest.
King’s gaze dropped to her chest and he rubbed his beard again. Laura glanced down, saw she’d pushed her already oversized boobs higher and immediately dropped her hands to her sides, feeling the heat rise up hercheeks.
This had been a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. There was nowhere for her to stand or turn and not feel half naked. How had she convinced herself that he wouldn’tnotice?
Especially when she shoved her breasts up practically begging him to stare atthem.
She curled her fingernails into her palms, clenching her jaw. He was still staring, to the point of being rude. That pissed her off. Her nipples beaded, making him stare harder and that pissed her off even more. “You’re going to tell me about why you felt it necessary to kidnap me and blow up myhouse.”
That had his gaze snapping back at her face, but she wasn’t sure if it was any better. The intensity she’d detected earlier was nothing compared to the burningnow.
“What took so long?” He leaned against the thick wooden bedpost besidehim.
