Page 22 of King of Desire (Kings of Las Vegas #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Honeyeh

The sound of the door opening wakes me from the light sleep I’ve slipped into.

I lift my head, my eyes blinking into the last rays of light filtering in through the windows.

Triston stands in the door, holding a tray of food. “When’s the last time you ate?”

I push myself up, lifting my shoulders and chest off the bed. “I’m the maid. I’m supposed to bring trays of food to you.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, setting the tray on a console, before he crosses the room to close the door behind him.

I push the covers back, determined to get up. I discarded all the lingerie, stealing one of Triston’s T-shirts from his closet. It smells like him, and I fell asleep with his scent all around me.

“Stay,” he rumbles, moving toward me. His hand threads into my hair as he cradles my skull, titling my face up to bend down and give me a quick, fierce kiss.

“I borrowed a shirt,” I whisper as he looks down at me.

“Good.” Then he moves back to the food, bringing the tray over to the bed. He unfolds legs on the bottom and rests it across my lap.

There’s yogurt, fruit, nuts, some sort of shrimp bowl with quinoa, and a few other assorted goodies. It’s tons of food and I stare down at it as Triston sits on the other side of the tray. “I haven’t had anything to eat either. Thought we’d share.”

I nod, swallowing down a lump. This was not the evening I pictured at all. I thought that right about now, I’d be having the worst night of my life. And that thought keeps me from eating as he scoops out some shrimp and quinoa.

As he chews, his brows lift. When he swallows, he points his fork at the food. “Eat.”

I lift the fork but then set it down. “When I asked you if you were saving me, you said, I bought you . What did you mean by that?”

He’s just put another bite in his mouth, but he pauses, not even chewing, before he starts again and then swallows. “You signed a contract.”

“All right,” I feel my stomach drop, because I know what he’s not saying. “Does that mean you had to pay for me?”

He doesn’t look up at me as he takes another bite. “Something like that.”

I shake my head, biting at my lips. “I’m so sorry, Triston.”

He looks up at me then. “Don’t be sorry, luv. Money is the one thing I’ve got plenty of. But I do want you to promise me something.”

I nod as he reaches out to cup my jaw in his palm, “Whether you work here or not, the next time you’re really in trouble, who are you going to ask for help?”

“You.”

“Good girl.” And then he leans over the tray and kisses me again. I sink into the feel of his mouth, the warmth of his hand. I could wrap myself around him if I thought he’d let me. “Now eat.”

He sits back down on the other side of the tray, and I pick up my fork. “Are you going to spank me if I don’t?” My backside is still sore.

His eyes burn into mine. “Don’t tempt me.”

Heat fills my cheeks. Because there was something about being over his shoulder, of having him claim me like that in front of all those men, it wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it also made me feel really feminine or something.

I pick up the yogurt and take a bite, the flavor delicious without being too sweet, the texture of the yogurt velvety and perfect.

“If you paid for this night, does that mean that we’re…” I taper off, but his gaze intensifies as he makes this noise in his throat.

“You’re mine, Honeyeh. Tonight. Yes. Beyond that is a discussion for the morning.”

My stomach jumps, a million butterflies fluttering in my chest.

He’s not sending me home tonight. I set the yogurt down again, but his glare intensifies. “We’ve got all night, there is no need to rush and no need to be nervous. Now eat.”

All day long, people have been force-feeding me. But as he hands me the bowl of shrimp, the one he was just eating from, I’m struck by the domesticity of the action.

“Do you…do you do this often?”

“What?”

“Feed the women you sleep with?” I don’t know why I ask. I shouldn’t care, and it’s none of my business. But I remember Victoria’s words. I’m one in a long line.

“Never.” Then he pushes a fork toward me.

My brow furrows. I know that at some point, I’m going to run into Triston’s rules. But he keeps saying things that make me feel…special. Which is so dangerous. It’s just going to hurt more when our time together ends because I believed I might be different.

But I can barely keep that little seed of hope from sprouting.

I take a bite of the shrimp, the flavors dancing on my tongue. “Wow. This is amazing.”

He smiles. “One of the many benefits of money. It might not buy happiness, but it does provide delicious food.”

I take another bite, starting to feel better for eating. Like everything isn’t quite so dire. “You don’t think financial stability provides a certain measure of…” I search for the word.

He sighs. “Financial stability provides stability period. Something I went without as I moved through young adulthood. My family was the picture of wealth then, but it was mostly an illusion. With my brothers’ help, I have built Smith Brothers to provide for both the dukedom, and our individual futures. ”

“It’s a lot of responsibility.”

His brows lift. “Something you understand better than most.”

I shake my head. “Not like you, I fight for Darius’s life, but I haven’t figured out how to provide us with stability, except for maybe the apartment.” I set down the shrimp again.

“You know how to love him, at least. That is something I’ve struggled with.” My head snaps up as I stare at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I like working, I can’t imagine my life any other way, but…” He looks out at the sun, the last rays filling the sky. “But I’ve been struggling to connect with my brothers. I’ve been resentful as they…”

“What?” I ask as I reach my hand across the tray.

He takes my fingers in his and then brings my palm to his lips. “They seem to be happier. Better adjusted.”

I understand what he’s saying. “You’re the second oldest?”

“I am, but my oldest brother was gone most of the time, off at boarding schools which left me with the burden of—” He stops, grimacing. “I’ve talked enough.”

I shake my head. “The responsibility feels like a weight that is too heavy to bear sometimes. I get it.”

I pull my palm from his hand and eat another bite of the shrimp and then hand it back to him, eating more of the yogurt and the fruit. By the time I’m done, the trauma of the auction feels further away.

Nothing happened to me. Triston took on the responsibility of saving me…

My chest tightens.

He’s like that. The question is, how do I even begin to repay him?

I’ve got a few ideas.

I grab the tray and then shimmy out of the bed, carrying it back to the table he rested it on before. Then I reach for my bag, digging out my toothbrush.

Triston watches me, as I start for the bathroom. I’m in nothing but his T-shirt, most of my legs on display. As I reach the door, I turn back to him. “I’ll be right back.”

But I hear him get up and walk across the floor. I pause, intending to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth.

Triston has seen me all kinds of naked, but there is something about peeing… “Triston,” I gasp as he steps into the bathroom, “I need to?—”

His stance widens as his arms cross. “Tonight, you’re mine, Honeyeh. If I want to watch you use the head, I will.”

My mouth opens to protest, but then I close it again. Swallowing down a lump, I set my toothbrush on the sink and then I move to the toilet.