Page 19 of Vicious Kingdom (Dynasty of Queens #3)

N o one refused Janet Cummbers. When she summoned, Chicago came calling.

Even Manhattan heeded her beck and call.

I used that to my advantage, slipping a napkin with a suggestion into her clutch the other night at the Providence Club.

Now, I scanned the Grand Ballroom, waiting with bated breath to see if my labors produced fruit.

When the most eligible bachelors in the Continental US were announced on stage, I smiled. My fruit was ripe and juicy, ready for the picking.

“Thank you, thank you!” Monica gushed from behind the microphone. “The rules for tonight’s soiree are simple. You’ll each have six minutes for chit-chatting. At the end, the gentlemen will bid for a date with you, so ladies—” she grinned dramatically “—woo them well.”

My strategy was simple. If I could make a certain gentleman outbid the others, I wouldn’t end up on a date with someone likely to be stabbed by my fork.

Woo him well…. More like play to his ego.

I was third in line, and as the men were divided out, a certain CEO was placed in the middle of the pack. It would be an hour or more before he rotated to my table.

Groaning inwardly, I forced a smile for my first interaction.

“Hi, I’m Travis,” the Wall Street suit announced, sticking out his hand and offering me a lopsided smile.

“Annaliese.” We shook.

The man had a strong grip. He held my hand instead of crushing the bone, letting me squeeze his in turn. While it was a nice handshake, there was no zing of electricity. We chatted for six minutes, but the conversation lacked chemistry.

When he left, another took his place. One by one, I cataloged the handshakes.

Some were damp. Others were weak. One was meaty, with stubby little sausage fingers.

At one point, I contracted something small, sticky, and yellow that definitely came from a nose.

I wiped my fingers under the table and wished there was a break in the flow to wash my hands.

But nothing was stopping Monica’s speed-dating auction.

Disgusted with how many people I touched, I lost track of the impending collision.

“You’re in my seat.” The hard words sent a jolt through me.

Tobias, or maybe it was Elias, blanched. “The bell hasn’t rung.”

His protest fell on deaf ears. One hard, unforgiving black glare, and the little man across from me scrambled, nearly falling onto the floor when he moved so fast that his feet didn’t catch him.

The scrape of the chair was ominous.

I smoothed my hands over my skirt and then lifted my gaze to meet the CEO’s. My opening line, the one I’d been editing all night, tasted wrong on my tongue.

Leo sat across from me, folded his hands on the table, and simply stared.

From the stage, the bell chimed.

Around us, individuals shuffled seats. A poor soul looked at me, confused, but shrugged and moved to the next table, skipping his turn.

Leo jumped the line—to sit with me.

That had to be a good sign, right?

My heart fluttered in an affirmative.

“Cat got your tongue?” The rumble of his deep bass sent a rush of heat tingling through me.

“Nope,” I whispered.

Another thirty seconds passed.

“You smile and flirt for every other bastard. Where’s my smile, Annaliese?”

“You haven’t earned one,” I countered.

Leo leaned forward. “Men like me don’t earn anything. That implies someone else holds the power to give or hold back. We take.”

I arched a brow. “And just how do you propose taking a smile? That’s something that is bestowed.”

“Did you enjoy your tropical smoothie this morning?”

That made me smirk, although I hid it well enough. “Spying on me, Mr. Baldwin?”

“Hard to spy when you stake out a new cafe every fucking morning. I had to walk six more blocks to find somewhere to buy a coffee,” he snarled.

I shrugged. “Sorry for the inconvenience. If you’d like, I can text you—or your precious secretary—to tell them where I’ll be so we’re sure not to run into one another.”

His voice was hard like granite. “So that you can change your mind and switch locations at the last minute to annoy me?”

I let out a harsh little laugh. “You think too much of yourself. As if I would go to all that trouble just to ruin your day.”

I totally would, but that wasn’t something I was ready to admit.

Leo’s gaze darkened as he leaned closer, the space between us charged with a tangible element—the one that was missing from every other interaction.

“You know what I think? I think you enjoy this little dance we do,” he said, a sultry undercurrent lacing his words.

“Dance?” I feigned innocence, but my heart hammered against my ribs. It was working. He was here, verbally sparring with me. “I don’t recall asking you to tango, Baldwin.”

His eyes dropped to my lips for a fraction of a second. “No, but you’ve been circling my world. Like a vulture. Waiting.”

I moistened my lips, watching his pupils dilate in response. “And what would I be waiting for?”

“For me to crack.” His voice dropped to a whisper that caressed my skin. “For me to admit that I still think about you.”

The air between us became thick, almost suffocating. I leaned forward, mirroring his posture until our faces were mere inches apart.

“And do you?”

Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Never. Vultures aren’t worth a shark’s time.”

The sting in my chest wasn’t something I would let him see.

“Then why would I try such a game if I was doomed to fail? Honestly, you’re not worth my time either.”

Reverse psychology—a winning stroke if there ever was one.

I watched as the corner of his mouth twitched. “What game are you playing, Annaliese?”

“No game.” I lowered my voice. “Just living my life in the same city as you.”

“Hmm.” His gaze dropped to my lips, lingering there before traveling down the column of my throat. “That dress is…deliberate.”

Heat bloomed across my skin where his eyes touched. “Is it working?”

“That depends on what you’re trying to accomplish.” He reached across the table, his fingers grazing mine so lightly I might have imagined it. “Tell me what you want.”

I suppressed a shiver. “Maybe I just want you to look at me the way you are right now.”

His nostrils flared as his lungs filled with a sharp inhale. It was time to drive another stake into his heart.

“Maybe I want every eligible bachelor to look at me the way you’re looking.” I laughed and straightened. “I have to go on a date with someone. It’s the purpose of this event, after all.”

“And how am I looking at you?” His voice had dropped an octave, rougher around the edges.

“Like you won’t bid for me.” I laughed again, this time giving him a smile—one full of condescension. “Don’t worry. I’m not hurt. I wouldn’t bid for you if the tables were reversed.”

The bell chimed on stage.

I shot my final arrow. “A word of advice, Baldwin. Be careful who you do bid on.”

“What does that mean?” His words were damn near feral, sensing the threat.

“You have to pick one of these women.” I shrugged. “Since you’ve never been to one of these ridiculous events, all eyes are on you. The most eligible bachelor in the city. Don’t get some poor girl’s hopes up that she’s going to be the Mrs. Baldwin.”

I held my breath, searching for a sign that it worked. That he took the bait.

Leo’s face was an unreadable mask of stone. He pushed from his seat. “Happy hunting, temptress.”

Refusing to feel deflated, I watched him move on to the next table. And I reminded myself that every goal worth reaching was a marathon, not a sprint.

***

The night moved on at a snail’s pace.

The muscles in my face hurt from forcing a smile. My tongue was tight with the restraint of holding back the outbursts several of these spoilt little pricks deserved. There were two more interviews, and then a much-needed break before the bidding started.

A drink sounded damn good right about now.

Shooting a look to the bar, I didn’t see who sat down across from me next until a familiar voice said, “Finally.”

“David!” I rounded on him.

He was the last person I expected to be here, so I hadn’t been paying any attention.

“Your mother invited me,” he said by way of explanation. “And to tell you the truth, I’ve been looking for a way to win you back.”

The most unromantic man on earth was making a feeble attempt at a grand gesture.

It should have felt flattering.

I think I’m going to be sick. “You can’t be here.”

“I came for you, Annaliese,” he insisted.

Looking into his impossibly soft eyes, I wondered how I ever found him attractive.

“David, this isn’t funny.” I fisted my hands on my lap. “I gave you the ring back.”

“I was hoping you might consider wearing it again?” His smile was lopsided. It should have been cute.

Annoyance ticked inside. “Look, we had some fun in Europe. And I appreciate the proposal. But coming back to the States showed me how wrong we are for each other. I should have called you sooner.”

“We spoke once since you got back.” He dropped the charm. The look that came over his face was almost mean. “Even then, you were too distracted by your friends to hear me when I said I was coming to visit.”

Then he surprised me at the golf course.

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have led you on—”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” David tapped his finger on the table. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m bidding for you. I’m going to show everyone that you’re mine.”

“I’m not your anything,” I countered hotly.

The nerve of this man! If he’d shown any of this backbone before, when I was lonely and exiled, I might have swooned. But I was back in my city, chasing my dreams.

David was never one of them.

“I already have your parents’ blessing. We’re moving the wedding to this fall.” He spoke as if my fate were decided.

I shook my head, but he cut me off.

“Don’t push me on this, Annaliese. It’s done.” He rose, buttoning his suit jacket. “I’m not a man to be trifled with.”

And I’m not a woman who lets others script her future. He wanted to force my hand? Well, he was going to see how ugly things could become.