Page 144 of Kings & Queen

MARCUS:

Get me the list.

I opened up a web browser and found the store. Thirty minutes later, I had the list sent to him.

MARCUS:

Got it. I have time to stop before picking up Marcel.

KINSLEY:

Keep it under wraps,though, promise?

MARCUS:

Will do. Have a good evening, Ms. Taylor.

My stomach flipped when I glanced at the time. Twenty minutes. Not a lot, but maybe enough to pull myself together. I chose a classy, casual black waterfall maxi dress. It fit me perfectly with its draped halter top with a functional tie at the neck. It allowed me to wear my blade, which was the condition Ivan had put in place.

The leather sheath hugged snug against my thigh. I slipped the blade into place, the weight of it grounding and familiar. A few careful pivots confirmed it stayed out of sight, just how he taught me. Satisfied, I snapped a quick photo in the mirror and sent it to him with no caption, just the image. He’d know what it meant.

I applied a little makeup and then wrapped my long hair into a spectacularly messy bun. Pulling a few pieces of hair loose on both sides, I deemed myself ready to go. Sophia and Christopher were waiting and smiled when I approached. But before we could leave, my phone rang, Alek’s name flashing on the screen.

“Yes, Sir?” I answered as Sophia narrowed her eyes. “Of course,” I sighed. I hung up. “Can you take a picture of me? Alek insists on seeing what I’m wearing.” A blush heated my cheeks.

“Oh my word, that man. He purchased your entire wardrobe, I have been told. If he’s opposed to something in your closet, then perhaps he shouldn’t have bought it for you,” she grumbled while Christopher took my photo. I sent it to him, and we walked toward the car.

REAPER:

You look beautiful, sweetness. Have fun. Text me when you get home.

“Tell me he approves?” she asked when I checked my phone. I nodded as my lips curved.

The closer to the garage we got, the more nervous I became. Their new driver stood ready for us. He was quite handsome, with light blond hair and deep brown eyes, easily six foot tall. I remembered his name was Logan. Having forgotten I wasn’t supposed to engage him or even look in his direction, I slightly panicked. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I was overreacting.

“Mr. and Mrs. King, Kinsley,” he greeted.

His crisp black suit, white shirt, and black tie were immaculate, and his gaze was intense as he regarded me.

“It’s Kinsley, right?” He turned to me.

“Yes,” I whispered. With each passing second, I was getting more anxious about leaving the compound. I involuntarily stepped back, bumping into Logan, and flinched.

“Easy there.” He chuckled as I flushed, and then his hand caressed my elbow.

I wanted to rip it away from his grasp because it felt intimate. It was instinctual. No man put their hands on me other than my Kings. How foolish? But my anxiety was making more of the situation than it should have. So I got into the car, even though I wanted to run back into the house.

Breathe, Kinsley, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like you can call Marcel.

I focused on Christopher and Sophia, though it was hard because Logan kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror. Sophia chatted away happily, oblivious to it, while I tried to focus on her conversation. She told me all about the restaurant we were going to—Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester. Christopher chimed in and told me about how it was truly a dining experience like no other.

The first thing I noticed when we arrived was the two bodyguards Alek insisted meet us there. Another of his conditions. He’d sent me their pictures and told me to trust them. Logan got out to open the door, then helped Sophia out before moving to take my hand. The big, burly guy stepped over and glared, though, making Logan step back.

“Mr. and Mrs. King, Alek insisted we accompany Ms. Taylor this evening while you are out.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing my hand. The other guard was actively looking in both directions.

“Christopher, is this really necessary?” Sophia grumbled.