Page 6 of King of Desire (Kings of Las Vegas #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

Triston

My afternoon is no more productive than my morning. All day long, I picture Honeyeh in my house, in my private spaces, bent over various pieces of furniture…

I haven’t fantasized about a woman this much since I was a teenager with my first girlfriend.

I’m considering tucking myself in a bathroom to squeeze one out just so I can get some work done.

It’s almost a relief when my phone dings that someone has approached the gate.

I check the video feed, my brother Killian’s Honda Pilot appearing on screen as he comes up the driveway.

I shake my head at his choice of vehicle. Chosen so that he can move around Vegas as anonymously as possible. Here is the thing about Killian. For a long time, I thought he might be certifiably insane.

He’s been our family’s dirty man, doing all the tasks that are unsavory and often bloody.

Which gives him license to say whatever comes into his head, never using a filter. It gets us all in trouble, and for a while, I thought it made him less. In some ways, though, it makes him more. Better. Honest. Real.

My role in the family would never allow me that kind of freedom. It’s all a carefully crafted facade, right down to the dating contract.

Not that his job didn’t come with some serious downsides. We’ve all had our crosses to bear.

But now that he’s married, and he seems more balanced than I’ve ever seen him, I know his role in the company has to change.

We’re working him into security for both us and the Kincaids. Because while Killian uses his ability to walk through shadows to collect all kinds of intel on our enemies, Jake Kincaid has learned the ins and outs of security monitoring. Together, they’d make an unstoppable force.

I hired a company to install all my security at home, but an in-house team would allow us to better hide any activity that was on the gray side of legal.

Killian stops by the door, steps out of the car and comes up the steps.

I stand up, eager to move, looking for an excuse to get up from my desk. I don’t normally meet my brother in the hall, but I can’t stand another second of sitting. But as I make my way toward the stairs, I don’t see or hear him.

I trot down to the ground floor, still not finding my brother as I stride down the hall and into the entry.

Where I stop. Killian leans against the jam of the massive entrance into the ballroom.

His arms are crossed, his chin notched up. “So tell me. How did you meet my brother again?”

Reaching the opening, I glance into the ballroom, my heart nearly stops in my chest. Honeyeh is up on a ten-foot-tall step ladder, dusting one of the three crystal chandeliers that adorn the room.

“Honeyeh.” My voice is sharp and I see her start in surprise. My heart stops, thinking she might fall, but she rights herself, grabbing the top of the ladder as the duster drops to the ground, creating a large clatter.

She lets out a cry, one of her hands coming to her chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just get down,” I bark back, striding toward her. I don’t want her on ladders like that, it’s dangerous.

I can’t question my visceral reaction, I’m too busy feeling hectic.

She starts down, bending a leg, just as I reach the bottom of the ladder. I only meant to help her but…

I can see straight up her dress to the crisp little pair of white panties that only accentuate the full, round curve of her ass.

My cock is hard as a rock even as I reach my hands up to grasp her hips and help her down.

Which might have been a mistake.

The curve of them fills my hands, her combination of muscle and softness making my brain fritz.

“Ahem,” Killian says behind me. “As I was asking…”

“Not now, Killian,” I grit out. “Mrs. Raith,” I call loudly, my hands lingering on Honeyeh even as she steps onto the floor.

My house manager appears a moment later. “Mr. Smith?”

“Why is Honeyeh up on a ladder?” The words come out like an accusation. I briefly glance at my brother, his eyebrows high up on his forehead.

“She was dusting,” Mrs. Raith answers, her head cocking to the side. “As we agreed would be a suitable role.”

I let out a long breath, slowly removing my hands from Honeyeh’s body as she turns to look back at me, her own eyes filled with questions, the crinkles around them, showing her worry.

Shit. She thinks I’m upset with her. My hand comes to the small of her back, my palm spreading wide into the gorgeous curve of it. “Why don’t you go home for the day, Honeyeh? We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Go home?” She turns to me then, so that my hand slides to the curve of her small waist. I give the indent a small squeeze. “Did I do something wrong? I can correct whatever it might be. I promise I’ll complete whatever work is required. I…” Panic fills her voice with each passing word.

“You did nothing wrong,” I assure her, giving her waist another squeeze. I can’t seem to stop touching her. “You’re not dressed for ladder work. That’s all. This is about your safety. I’m protecting you.”

She nods. “I know you have a large event on Friday. I can do more work today, just of a different variety. If I can’t finish the chandeliers, perhaps dishes need to be prepped, or silverware needs to be polished.”

Killian loudly clears his throat. “I’m not sure it’s the silverware he wants you to polish.”

Complete confusion clouds Honeyeh’s face, but I look at my brother with a glare meant to kill. He is not helping.

He doesn’t look the least bit concerned. In fact, his grin widens. He pushes of the jam and walks toward us, thrusting out his hand. “I’m Killian Smith.”

Tentatively, Honeyeh places her hand in his. “Honeyeh Karimi.”

“Nice to meet you, Honeyeh.”

“And you.” She lets go of his hand. “Congratulations on your marriage. It was a beautiful ceremony.”

Killian’s brow wrinkles in confusion. But I’m showing Honeyeh to the door. “I’m not certain where you parked but there is a lot for staff?—”

“Oh, I don’t have a car.” Honeyeh shakes her head.

“How did you get here?” I pride myself on details, but this one did not occur to me.

“The bus.” She vaguely gestures in the direction of the stop then turns toward the door.

“The bus?” I ask, stopping her. “But, that stop is almost a mile away.”

“I’m used to it,” she says with a small shrug. “And I enjoy walking. I’d like to thank you again for the opportunity to work here.”

Killian has moved back to my side. “My car is parked right by the door. Allow me to drive you.”

I know what he’s doing. He’s going to pump her for information.

But she shakes her head. “Not necessary. I walk most places, even in the heat. I’ll be fine.”

“I insist.” My hand is at her back again, lightly propelling her forward. She starts walking without hesitation, her response to my touch one of instant obedience.

It makes my cock hard all over again, the way she responds to my touch. Would she be like that in bed?

Now I’m like granite as I open the back door of the car for her, helping her in before I shut the door and adjust myself. Killian sees me and starts whistling as he walks around to the driver’s seat of the car.

I’ve never heard my brother whistle before. It’s fucking weird. I open the passenger door and slide onto the black leather seat. It’s still cool from the air conditioning he used on the drive here. I twist my head around to see Honeyeh fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

Which immediately reminds me of her panties.

Fuck.

Killian closes the driver’s side door and starts the engine, even as I hit the button for the gate.

“So Honeyeh,” he starts, smiling in the rearview. “You mentioned my wedding…”

Honeyeh nods. “I’m a friend of Charlotte Kincaid.” She looks out the window. “Mason was kind enough to give me a job at the hotel but Mr. Smith?—”

“Triston,” I cut in.

“Triston offered me a position here, instead.”

Killian looks over at me like I’ve lost my mind. I think he’s probably right. Which one of us is certifiable now? “And you’re happy to be working as a maid?”

“Oh yes,” she looks back at Killian, a genuine smile on her lips. “Very.”

Killian cocks his head. “Student debt?”

“Medical,” she answers, her hand fluttering. “My brother is ill.”

Killian’s eyes go wide as he looks over at me. I think he gets it. I hope he does. Not even I’m heartless enough to use a woman that kind and caring.

“I’m sorry to hear it, Honeyeh. Is it serious?”

“Thank you,” she says to Killian. “His liver was damaged from the overproduction of bile. He needs a lot of care while we wait for a transplant.”

“Jesus,” Killian quietly responds while my chest grows tight. That’s a big fucking burden for her to carry.

“We’ll be all right,” she smiles again, like she’s trying to convince everyone.

I want to pull her into my fucking lap. “This position is a real help, and I have a really good surgeon who’s taken on his case.

” She stops, clasping her hands again. “But enough about me. Your bride was so beautiful. Her dress, her hair, the flowers. It was like a fairytale.”

Killian’s smile turns soft. “Thank you. I have to agree. Chloe is the most beautiful person I know inside and out.”

I look at my brother. I know he loves Chloe. That he’s wildly attracted to her. But what I hear in his voice is respect…

I don’t hear Killian give those kinds of accolades to anyone.

We reach the bus stop and Honeyeh opens her own door, sliding out of the car. “Thank you for the ride,” she says to Killian. “I look forward to tomorrow,” she murmurs to me before she closes the door to the car and walks over to the covered bench, sitting down on the metal seat.

There is no one else there and I feel this prick of annoyance at the thought of leaving her alone here.

“Want me to wait?” Killian asks from the driver’s seat.

I scowl at him, even though he’s said out loud exactly what I was thinking. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you going all caveman.”

“Caveman?” I repeat at a higher volume.

“Protective, predatorial. I half expected you to throw her over your shoulder and stomp upstairs.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I just got married. I know exactly what I’m talking about.” He puts the car in gear, gives Honeyeh a wave, and reverses direction. “And I like her. “

“You like her?” I am trying to be nicer to Killian. But he says shit that irritates me. Like right now.

“Honest. Sweet. Caring. Gorgeous.” He draws that last one out and gives another whistle. “And the body… A man could do a lot worse,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

I let out a rumble of frustration. “Even if I were the type of man who might settle, Honeyeh is not the sort of woman I’d choose.”

“Is Veronica?” he asks, wrinkling his nose. “Do you want to make some power couple?”

“I don’t want to make any couple. You, of all people, should understand.”

“Why is that?” he asks, approaching the gate.

I pull out the phone and hit the button. In my family, our brother Win is the oldest and the new Duke of Grandmont. Being the heir, he was off at boarding school from a fairly early age.

I’m next, older than my twin, Gris, by four minutes. But apparently four minutes matters. Since a I was a kid, I was expected to bear the brunt of our shitty father’s vitriol. And it’s been my job ever since to hold the whole operation together.

But Killian and I don’t need to get into it. “What did you come here for?”

“Did you speak with Mason today?” He asks, parking the car once again.

I turn in my seat to face him. “Yes. Why?”

“He wants me to keep an eye on the Russian’s brothels. It’s the one part of their business I haven’t really gathered intel for. I know their drug trading routes, their casinos.”

I frown. First, I don’t agree with Mason on this topic. While I dislike the Russian Bratva, Dimitri is a man with a fair bit of ethics when it comes to the women in his employ.

While he runs some of Las Vegas’s most well-known brothels, his business is designed to both protect the women and gain their consent. It wouldn’t be Sin City without a sex trade, and Dimitri is the best there is. “I don’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“He’s the best man for that job, first. And second…there is a lot more room for collateral damage when you add in a building full of women.”

Killian grimaces. “I don’t like it either. If Chloe ever found out I was hanging around a brothel, she’d cut off my balls.”

“That’s your big worry? An entire force of Russian Bratva guard those places and you’re concerned about a petite blonde?”

“Bratva I can take,” he mutters. “If Chloe kicks me out of our bed, I really will go insane.”

There is so much wrong with that sentence, I don’t even know where to begin. Men quake in front of Killian. Does Chloe really hold that much power?

Could the sex really be that good?

I immediately think of Honeyeh and those white panties. What would sinking into her feel like? Jesus, I’m about to be in real trouble, because I want to find out.