“Then I guess it’s my lucky night, isn’t it?”
I opened my mouth to tell him to not only talk less but also wear less cologne, when I felt a tight shiver of awareness. The kind of feeling you got when it felt as if someone were—
The man behind me shouted in surprise. His hands left my hips as I spun around. The dark-haired tourist stumbled, catching his balance on a nearby table. He shoved off it, puffing out his chest, but drew up short a second before broad shoulders and a tapered waist clad in a black shirt blocked my view. The guy’s blond hair was secured in a short ponytail, and the scent of summer rain replaced the overpowering musk of cologne.
I sucked in a sharp breath of disbelief as I saw What’s His Name dart to my left, intelligently wanting nothing to do with what stood in front of me.
I could not believe it.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I waited. I didn’t have to wait long. He decided to grace me with a full-frontal of what had to be—unfortunately—the most beautiful male face I’d ever seen.
The King was here.
Chapter 27
The sense of deja vu was too strong to ignore. It felt like an eternity ago that I’d come face to face with him inside this very club, and the last time we’d met in here, I’d tried to spin-kick him.
I had a feeling that history might repeat itself.
Cad—the King, I corrected myself. The King was stunning. Cheekbones as sharp as a blade, nose straight and aristocratic, and a jaw that could’ve been carved out of marble. He had the kind of face you found yourself staring at and wondering how it could be real. And now, those full, expressive lips were tilted in a smirk.
Seeing him so unexpectedly seemed to short-circuit my brain because I wasn’t thinking about how he’d hurt me. All I could think about was how good he’d made me feel. Not in the physical sense, though that had been amazing too, even though we hadn’t had sex. But it was the important stuff. I…I missed that.
“You can do better than that, sunshine,” the King of the Summer Court drawled.
My stupid, stupid heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d told me that he called me that because I reminded him of the sun.
Such BS.
Pulling the anger around me like a favorite sweater, I walled up my heart, protecting it from its own stupidity. I lifted mygaze, ignoring how the amber color of the King’s eyes both frightened and tantalized me. “Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you wish.” He stepped forward, and my eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you can imagine my utter lack of surprise at discovering you here.”
“And I’m sure you can imagine my utter lack of surprise realizing that you’re stalking me again.”
He arched a brow. “Well, who else is there to keep you from getting yourself killed?”
My jaw ached from how hard I clenched it. “I don’t need anyone to do that other than myself. And I especially do not need you.”
“That’s your opinion,” he stated as if it were the stupidest belief in history. “I know why you’re here. You’ve learned that Neal was seen.”
No point in lying. “And if you’re here now, there’s no way he’s going to show up.”
The King’s smile was real, stealing a little of my next breath. “Exactly.”
My hands curled into fists as the realization that tonight had been an utter waste slammed into me. The only thing I got out of it was being groped. If the King was here, Neal would be nowhere near.
“You’re a jerk,” I spat, spinning around and stalking off.
I didn’t look back to see if he followed as I cut around the dance floor and made my way toward the exit.
I hadn’t seen the King the entire week and a half I’d been out here looking for Neal or Aric—or any fae who may know where they were. A few times, I’d felt the creepy sensation of being watched, but if that had been him, he’d never revealed himself. Until now.
Shaking my head, I slammed my hands on the door and stepped out into the cool evening air, letting it wash over mysticky skin. Goosebumps rose, but I didn’t care. In a few weeks, it would be as humid and horrible as Satan’s balls.
Part of me wasn’t surprised that the King had found me so easily in the club. Like I’d admitted while I was getting ready, he always knew it was me, no matter how drastically I altered my appearance.
How bizarre was that?
