Page 71 of Merciless Heir
I shove my hands on my hips. “I don’t know. You called him my mythical ex.”
“He’s back to being a boyfriend now? You move fast.” Kingston goes to my computer, looking at the screen. “And I don’t keep them like deep, dark secrets. I keep them labeled, in boxes on a shelf, for ease.”
“You’re—”
“An ass?”
“What do you want, Kingston?” He’s drawing me in with his weird charm and I don’t want to be drawn in, or charmed.
Maybe I’ll steal everything from him. It would serve him right.
“What’s this?” He thumbs at the computer.
“Work.”
“For me?”
I breathe out. What was that about charm? “Yes. I put everything on hold for this.”
“And?”
“If you’re asking why I’d do that, I don’t know and I’m regretting life choices,” I say. “If you’re asking about the tiara, I don’t have anything.”
He looks at me long and hard. “Unless you’re hiding something.”
“If I was hiding something from you, then you would never know.”
We’re a rollercoaster of unspoken things. Up and down and all over the place at breakneck speed and I can pinpoint the exact moment we got on board. It was when he kissed me last night.
I really am going to steal everything from him. Duante comes to mind, but I’ll deal with him when I get my hands on the jewel and not before. Instead, I fold my arms. “You can relax. Last night was sex and nothing more. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“I prefer to wear high cut non-twistable panties, like all the big boys,” he says in a low and dangerous voice, “and I’m not here about that. I don’t give a flying fuck about that. Sex is sex, Sadie. Right? We decided that. So, pull up your big girl boxers and get it together. If you want a repeat, just ask. I’ll pencil you in.”
He’s angry. Deeply, darkly angry and I can’t work out why. He knows where we are with all this tiara business. I haven’t had time to find and steal the damn thing. And he doesn’t care about the sex beyond it being sex—the pang inside is something I ignore—so whatever his problem is, he better get it out in the open or when things happen he’s going to fuck it up for himself.
Things like losing the tiara. That is, of course, if I don’t steal it to teach the idiot a lesson.
“You’re going to have to tell me why you’re so furious, Kingston.”
He pushes a hand through his hair. “Because I’m not sure I trust you.”
“In what way?”
“In the maybe you have the tiara way.”
“I don’t.” I breathe out. It’s time to put my own petty little fantasies to one side and play big ball. “I won’t be able to make money from it if I have it.”
“You will if you double bluff me to push up the price for me to get it back in time.”
Actually, I never thought of that. Because I might still keep a hand in the water, but I don’t ever drink that water. I haven’t stolen in years, just like I’m sure I told him when we met.
And sure, I’ve been currently entertaining the idea of taking it all for me if I can, but that’s just entertaining an idea, not doing. Not following through.
“I’m not going to do that. I have a reputation here. One you know is built on a weird trust. If it gets out I stole it, if you spread that rumor, then I’m done in my line.”
“Well, I—” He stops. “Okay. I might be angry. Frustrated, I guess is the word. But time is running out, Sadie, and we’re exactly nowhere. What am I meant to think?”
“That the world doesn’t work on your whim. And we’re not nowhere. I’m looking, I’m following all sorts of leads. So far, it’s just rumor and whispers, but something is going to happen. I feel that.”