Page 28
Story: Guarded King
“Roman?” Cole’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
I jerk my head up. “Yes?”
My brothers are both watching me with furrowed brows.
Smoothing a hand down my tie, I clear my throat. “What did I miss?”
“It’s not like you to miss anything.” Cole surveys me, his expression full of a suspicious curiosity I don’t like. “Something on your mind?”
“Or someone?” Tate’s smirk speaks volumes.
“Unlike you two, I don’t let people distract me,” I snap. “The only thing on my mind is the EcoTech acquisition.”
Tate regards me, his lips pressed together. “We all understand the importance of this deal and its implications for the future of the King Group.”
“But?”
“There’s more to life than business.”
Annoyance flares. Why is everyone so interested in questioning my priorities lately? I chuckle dryly, masking my irritation. “Of course. There’s good food, good whiskey, maybe even good company.”
“You have to take a break, Roman.” Tate’s golden-brown eyes, usually so full of humor, are serious for once. “This drive to make us the best, tobethe best, all the time. It’s not good for you.”
His words scrape against a nerve that’s still raw after all of these years. I don’t care about being the best, I only care about being better than Dad. But I don’t bother to tell them that.They’re too absorbed in their women to understand. They’ve drunk the Kool-Aid, believing that love is the answer to all life’s problems.
Only, love won’t remove Dad’s stain from our name and our company.
I love my brothers. Always have, even when I didn’t realize it—when our father loomed like a shadow between us, and we barely spoke. We might be united now, but I’ve never told them about Dad. They don’t know about the manipulation, about how it shaped me, or how it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth even now. And that’s how it will remain.
I plant my elbows on my knees and lean forward, my tone brooking no argument. “We need to get back to business.”
They share another one of those knowing looks that have become more frequent lately, but I ignore it like I always do. They can think whatever they want, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my priorities.
An hour later, we’re done. When I see Cole and Tate out of the office, Chloe is busy at her desk. She looks up as the three of us emerge, offering that same serene smile, a demure tilt of her pretty mouth.
I flash back to that moment after the meeting with Haverscombe, when she challenged me about the value of money, the way her cheeks flushed, and her expressive eyes turned more green than blue. I must be a masochist, because I prefer that response to the calm, professional demeanor she’s determined to present. Even though that’s what I told her I wanted.
As my brothers disappear down the hallway, Chloe studies me where I’m still lingering by the open door of my office, her head cocked and her pale blond hair cascading over one shoulder. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. King?”
My body tightens at the sound of those words coming from her soft pink lips, but I shut down the reaction fast. “Have you typed up the notes from the Wright meeting yet?”
“Yes. Do you want me to pull the file for you?”
“Bring it to my office please. We can go over my schedule for the rest of the week too.”
She picks up her tablet, and by the time she walks into my office, I’m back in my chair. Before I can help myself, my eyes trail down over her body, taking in her white silk blouse, hinting at lace beneath, and the navy skirt that hugs the curve of her hips, ending just above her knees.
She may not flaunt it, but she’s sexy as hell.
When I meet her gaze, her cheeks are tinted pink, making it clear she’s noticed my perusal. Rather than shy away after being caught, I steeple my fingers on my desk and maintain eye contact.
I shouldn’t do it, but as more color floods her cheeks, satisfaction surges through me. Damn it. Despite knowing I shouldn’t, I want to see her flustered again. I prefer that to the relentlessly polite mask she seems determined to maintain in my presence.
When she catches her lower lip between her teeth, I picture tugging it free with my thumb, then pressing my mouth to hers to find out what she tastes like.
“Here’s the file you wanted.” Her voice is a little huskier than usual as she leans over my desk to hand me the documents.
Her blouse gapes slightly, and I’m faced with a flash of creamy skin that sends a jolt directly to my dick. Gritting my teeth, I pull my attention away quickly. Already, I regret letting myself look at her in a way I definitely shouldn’t have. It makes it too easy to keep doing it.
I jerk my head up. “Yes?”
My brothers are both watching me with furrowed brows.
Smoothing a hand down my tie, I clear my throat. “What did I miss?”
“It’s not like you to miss anything.” Cole surveys me, his expression full of a suspicious curiosity I don’t like. “Something on your mind?”
“Or someone?” Tate’s smirk speaks volumes.
“Unlike you two, I don’t let people distract me,” I snap. “The only thing on my mind is the EcoTech acquisition.”
Tate regards me, his lips pressed together. “We all understand the importance of this deal and its implications for the future of the King Group.”
“But?”
“There’s more to life than business.”
Annoyance flares. Why is everyone so interested in questioning my priorities lately? I chuckle dryly, masking my irritation. “Of course. There’s good food, good whiskey, maybe even good company.”
“You have to take a break, Roman.” Tate’s golden-brown eyes, usually so full of humor, are serious for once. “This drive to make us the best, tobethe best, all the time. It’s not good for you.”
His words scrape against a nerve that’s still raw after all of these years. I don’t care about being the best, I only care about being better than Dad. But I don’t bother to tell them that.They’re too absorbed in their women to understand. They’ve drunk the Kool-Aid, believing that love is the answer to all life’s problems.
Only, love won’t remove Dad’s stain from our name and our company.
I love my brothers. Always have, even when I didn’t realize it—when our father loomed like a shadow between us, and we barely spoke. We might be united now, but I’ve never told them about Dad. They don’t know about the manipulation, about how it shaped me, or how it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth even now. And that’s how it will remain.
I plant my elbows on my knees and lean forward, my tone brooking no argument. “We need to get back to business.”
They share another one of those knowing looks that have become more frequent lately, but I ignore it like I always do. They can think whatever they want, as long as it doesn’t interfere with my priorities.
An hour later, we’re done. When I see Cole and Tate out of the office, Chloe is busy at her desk. She looks up as the three of us emerge, offering that same serene smile, a demure tilt of her pretty mouth.
I flash back to that moment after the meeting with Haverscombe, when she challenged me about the value of money, the way her cheeks flushed, and her expressive eyes turned more green than blue. I must be a masochist, because I prefer that response to the calm, professional demeanor she’s determined to present. Even though that’s what I told her I wanted.
As my brothers disappear down the hallway, Chloe studies me where I’m still lingering by the open door of my office, her head cocked and her pale blond hair cascading over one shoulder. “Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. King?”
My body tightens at the sound of those words coming from her soft pink lips, but I shut down the reaction fast. “Have you typed up the notes from the Wright meeting yet?”
“Yes. Do you want me to pull the file for you?”
“Bring it to my office please. We can go over my schedule for the rest of the week too.”
She picks up her tablet, and by the time she walks into my office, I’m back in my chair. Before I can help myself, my eyes trail down over her body, taking in her white silk blouse, hinting at lace beneath, and the navy skirt that hugs the curve of her hips, ending just above her knees.
She may not flaunt it, but she’s sexy as hell.
When I meet her gaze, her cheeks are tinted pink, making it clear she’s noticed my perusal. Rather than shy away after being caught, I steeple my fingers on my desk and maintain eye contact.
I shouldn’t do it, but as more color floods her cheeks, satisfaction surges through me. Damn it. Despite knowing I shouldn’t, I want to see her flustered again. I prefer that to the relentlessly polite mask she seems determined to maintain in my presence.
When she catches her lower lip between her teeth, I picture tugging it free with my thumb, then pressing my mouth to hers to find out what she tastes like.
“Here’s the file you wanted.” Her voice is a little huskier than usual as she leans over my desk to hand me the documents.
Her blouse gapes slightly, and I’m faced with a flash of creamy skin that sends a jolt directly to my dick. Gritting my teeth, I pull my attention away quickly. Already, I regret letting myself look at her in a way I definitely shouldn’t have. It makes it too easy to keep doing it.
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