Page 63 of King of Temptation

Warmth pooled low in his belly. As angry as she certainly was in that moment, she was still willing to lie to her own father to protect him. “I appreciate that. It would be a little difficult to protect you from prison.”

Her lips twitched as she lifted her head to look at him. “I’m not doing it for you.”

“Oh?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow in her direction.

Grinning now, she moved in, looping her arms around his neck. “No. I’m doing it for me. Being locked in here with you is the best research a girl could ask for.”

Cock twitching, he lowered his head to claim her lips, but she ducked away, shooting him a smug look over her shoulder. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get my computer set up. We’ve got work to do.”

Chapter 22

Goldie

It took them nearly three hours to get her set up in his den, not because the computer itself was difficult but because she was, apparently, a much more fickle creature than she’d ever realized. The chair wasn’t the right height, the light coming in through the window hit her monitor at a weird angle, she couldn’t get her keyboard in the right position.

And then there was the fact that Brody was just as particular as she was. Even though he’d had the twins bring over her equipment, he tensed every time she tried to move something, and then she felt so guilty about taking over his space she ended up putting whatever it was right back where she’d found it.

Which didn’t make a lick of fucking sense, since he was the one keeping her prisoner, but clearly her guilt didn’t care about logic.

At one point, she’d grown so frustrated with the whole situation she’d snapped at Brody and called him so many foul names that he’d bent her over the desk, spanked her until she was a sobbing mess, then fucked her until she’d come screaming his name. The spanking, the sex, and the lunch that followed all had her in a much better mood by the time she settled down at her desk to actually work.

Well. At first, anyway.

But the harder she tried to work, the worse it got. Nothing was right. She wanted her desk in her office, surrounded by her things. She missed the hot-pink crab one of her author buddies had sent to hold her business cards. She missed the oversized chair she curled up in when she wanted to read. She missed the splashes of color, the vibrancy, the… everything.

She missed her home, and then she felt like an asshole for it because she knew Brody just wanted her safe. What kind of person got pouty over being so carefully guarded by a man who just as easily could have walked away and let her get herself killed?

Annoyed with herself, she shoved away from the desk—and the manuscript she hadn’t touched in far too long—to make her way to the kitchen. Maybe another cup of coffee would help. Even gross fucking coffee without any sugar in it. Which was another thing she needed to talk to him about.

Ugh.

“Need something, menace?”

Thank god she hadn’t actually picked up the coffee pot yet, or else she probably would have splashed it all over herself when she jumped a foot in the air at the sound of his voice. Spinning around, she slapped a hand over her chest and glared at him. “What the fuck, Brody?”

“Sorry,” he said, not looking the least bit sorry as he lounged against the island, watching her with those piercing eyes.

Shooting him a dark look, she turned back to the coffee pot and reached for it. “It’s fine. Just… don’t sneak up on me like that. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Mmm. How many cups of coffee have you had today?”

Irritation crawled up her spine. “As many as I’ve needed,” she snapped.

“Goldie.”

Her name was a warning, one that sent a shiver up her spine. A warning she utterly ignored as she carried her coffee to the fridge for a healthy splash of cream.

God what she wouldn’t give for a latte and a donut.

With her doctored coffee in hand, she closed the refrigerator door and stared at him over the rim as she lifted the mug to her lips. “Brody.”

The look he sent her was so Daddy she nearly dropped her coffee. “How many cups have you had?” he repeated, his tone almost eerily calm.

“Dunno. Not enough, clearly.”

“I can see you vibrating from here, menace.”

“Yeah, well, I need to vibrate my way into actually getting some work done or else this book is never going to get finished and I’ll have to cancel my preorder which is a whole thing and⁠—”