The first blowjob I’ve ever given in my life, and I have to say, I think I did pretty darn well. Ethan certainly appears pleased. He hasn’t stopped touching me since he was inside me. Like if he isn’t holding on, I’ll fly away.
This man. I’m obsessed with him. There’s a slight soreness between my legs and I want to hold onto that forever. He’ll always have been my first; I want him to be my all.
If only I’d found him in some other time and place. But he’s the head of Camden, and I’m dead to that world.
There’s this hiatus, this slither of a chance he’s whisked me away to, and then there’s nothing. He dries me in a fluffy towel then swipes his thumb over my cheek and kisses me so sweetly I want to cry.
I want to yell at the heavens.
The one thing I don’t do, is ask for the impossible.
He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom and dresses me in the shirt of his I chose then pulls on a pair of jeans. It’s a warm night.
Neither of us speaks. I think because there’s an inevitability about the end to this, and I for one don’t want to admit it.
I’m reaching for him when there’s the snick of a door.
My eyes meet King’s.
Shit.
He pushes me back and hisses, “Stay here.”
I ignore the order, remaining at his elbow. Whatever or whoever is here, we’ll face it together.
Henry stands in the open doorway, a gun pointing at King as we emerge into the living room. He’s holding a fake hand, and he waves it at us.
“Really should upgrade your security, King. Your fingerprints are everywhere.” Shit. The door was locked with a fingerprint, and Henry just let himself in.
How did he find us?
“Olivia.” Ethan’s voice is like granite. “Get back.”
“Good to see you, Olivia. Enjoy your swim?”
Then it hits me.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper. But I should have. I disposed of everything except that stupid fitness tracker that barely did anything. I only ever wore it when I went swimming, and now I’m going to pay dearly for that mistake.
One naive error and this perfect interlude is spoiled by Henry. Bastard.
“What did he force you to do?” Henry’s lip curls.
His voice and question pour molten lava into my chest.
“Nothing.” How dare he turn up here, as though I’m his toy to reclaim. “I’m here of my own volition.”
“My men were bringing you to me, darling, so we could be married.”
King takes a step forward as Henry does. The young blond lion and the big cunning bear. Henry is outmatched.
Except for the gun.
I should be afraid. Henry is trying to kill King, and take me. He killed those I loved the most.
I’m not scared. My body doesn’t know fear. I’m furious with Henry. My anger is a boiling sky. It is steaming from my every pore. This man drove me from my home and nearly caused me to murder a good man. My fury could obliterate London and smash the whole of England to rubble.
Henry wants me? Fine. He’ll get a fuck of a lot more than he bargained for.
“I’ll go with you, but leave King be.”
“No.” King grasps my wrist, but I shake him off.
There’s no choice and no time to find a weapon or plan. I will avenge my father. I will avenge Trudy. And I will not allow Henry to harm King.
Henry’s eyes narrow. I can see him considering what is the biggest prize. Me, or his so-called revenge against King for his father’s death.
“I’m sorry I left. I was…” I gulp and look down. Honestly, I should be on the stage I’m such a good actress. “Scared, after my father’s death.” I must get him and that gun away from King.
“Very natural,” Henry agrees, then like a Janus, he turns the gun on me.
“No.” King is shaking.
“Henry. No one else needs to die. If you can keep me safe, I’ll join you.”
“Come to me, bride.”
Every instinct shouts that this is wrong as I walk with slow steps to Henry. As soon as I’m within reach, his fingers are on my upper arm like a vice and the barrel of the gun is at my throat.
Again, I should be afraid. But all I have is determination and the raw knowledge that I will do anything to save King, then I’ll do everything to get back to him. Nothing and no one, certainly not a useless coward like Henry, will stop me.
“I have my bride.” He yanks me to him as he addresses King. “We’re leaving. If you try something, I’ll shoot her.”
Fuck.
I manage to glance back at King as Henry drags me from the house, me tripping over myself to stay with him. My glimpse of Ethan’s face shows pure fear and horror.
I try to transmit one simple message to him. Trust me. I can do this.
And I pray he received it.
“Where are we going?” Henry takes me up a rough track. In my bare feet I’m struggling to keep up, and quite soon I’m going to be bloodied.
“There’s a road in a few miles,” Henry replies, not looking at me. His fingers dig painfully into my arm and the gun hasn’t wavered from my neck. “I’ve missed you, Olivia.”
“Where’s my dad?”
“Don’t worry, Steven saw to him. We thought you were with him, which is why I didn’t come for you sooner, darling. I’m glad I got you away.”
And that’s when I’m certain he’s lying. Because it wouldn’t matter what happened. My father would have contacted me, were he still alive.
Henry blathers, and I don’t know whether he’s talking to himself or to me. Something about nobility and fortune. I’m not listening. I’m wondering how to get that gun off him. The path takes us around the hill and eventually I see a red SUV. Subtle.
“I won’t have my fiancée wearing my enemy’s clothes,” he says as he opens the boot, revealing the outfit I put on to go swimming. It’s a summer dress and a lightweight coat perfect for any conditions. With a surprisingly weighted hem.
“Thank you,” I murmur. And though my knife is missing from the ensemble, my heart rate spikes. Because in that unusually heavy hem is stitched a blade.
Trudy gave me this long coat. And I can’t believe I never made the connection before. Of course King didn’t murder his brother. It was Trudy who taught me about flowers and plants, and casually, amongst that, she showed me which plants were poisonous, or would cause fits, or visions.
I make myself sound contrite and sweet. Unassuming. “Could I have a moment alone to change?”
Henry’s mouth twitches with annoyance.
“Please.” I cast my gaze down in faux modesty and make my voice tremble. “I didn’t get any privacy with King.”
And that’s true. Just absolutely what I wanted.
I dive for the coat as soon as Henry’s back is turned and find the irregular place in the hem. It’s the work of a second to use the point of the knife to cut it out of the fabric. It’s a short blade with the simplest handle imaginable, and it fits in my hand.
I don’t change my clothes; I’m King’s woman now. But I shove my painful feet into my shoes and almost cry at the relief. Then I turn and look at the back of the man I once assumed I’d marry.
“Henry,” I say, throwing my voice off the car as I creep up to him. He’s looking out into the dark, where we came from.
“What?” he snaps.
Then the knife is at his throat. “Drop the gun.”
“Olivia.” He stills. “You don’t want to do this.”
I press the blade and it’s sharper than it looks. A line of red trickles down to his collar.
“Where did you get that?” There’s panic—outright panic—in his voice.
“Your mother sends her compliments.”
“No!” Henry shudders, and drops the gun. I kick it, hard, and in the dark I don’t see where it lands. In bushes somewhere to my right.
Henry’s shoulders shake.
I’m more poised than I’ve ever been.
“Tell me where my father’s body is and I’ll spare your life.”
I want to bury him. Mourn him properly.
Henry chuckles mirthlessly, a little manic. “You’ll never find him. I’m about to take that secret to my death.”
“Relax. It was just a nick.”
The laugh turns into a sob. “The smallest cut from Trudy’s knives…”
Shit. I shove Henry away and hold the blade at arm’s length. Tears are streaming down Henry’s face, glistening in the moonlight.
His face wrinkles into a snarl. “Bitch. I should have finished you along with her.”
But he slumps to the ground, coughing.
My fingers tighten around the knife before I drop it.
Poisoned. Trudy gave me a blade laced with toxins and I’ve used it to kill her son.
Henry clutches at his neck, and I do the one thing I know.
I run.
Back down the track I just came with Henry, I throw myself towards the man I know can figure this out. My feet scream at me, my thighs are on fire. I’m running away from what I’ve done and who I am and—
“Olivia!”
King is there, on the path before me.
I fling myself into his arms, tears behind my eyes for everything that’s happened, and my role in it.
“Hush. Hush.” He soothes me like I’m a wild creature, his hands on my back and tight around my waist.
“Where is he?” King’s voice is a rumble.
I point with a shaking hand. “It’s just him. He seems to have come without backup.”
“Do I need to finish it?” he says into my hair.
And I know, for sure, whatever I’d done he’d support me. Where a normal person would call the police, King will fix anything I require, no matter how bad.
And it’s crazy, but that is the hottest, best thing I can think of.
I shake my head. Trudy will have been clever. It’s a fast poison. “He’ll be dead within an hour.”
King smiles. “You and your herbs. Remind me never to cross you. But he’s still out there, alive for now?”
“Yes.”
King nods. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” It’s not even a question.
“Go back to the house. Lock the door. Don’t answer for anyone but me. Wait. And whatever you see on the news, stay. Don’t leave.”
I start to ask what he’s going to do, but he shakes his head.
“How long?”
“I don’t know. But I’ll be back. I promise.” He presses a hard kiss to my mouth, then releases me with a little push. I watch him go. To clean up.
It’s two days before the news shows footage of a helicopter crash. Three dead.
Ethan King.
Tears fill my eyes.
Henry Junior.
My heart thumps.
An image of me from a couple of years ago flashes on screen. Olivia Porter.
There are accompanying images of burning wreckage of the helicopter I’ve been in with King. They say my death is thought to be an accident, and Henry was avenging his father’s death by murdering King.
I’m still staring at the unthinkable—I’m officially dead—again—when there’s a knock on the door.
I rush and it’s only when I remember King’s words that I pause.
“Who is it?”
A barely restrained growl of impatience.
I throw open the door and King is on me, crushing me in his arms.
The relief is visceral. Like a waterfall or a tide, and I’m powerless against it. I should ask questions about what happened, but I pull him to the bedroom and within minutes he’s thrusting inside me, covering me, both our desperation overcoming any common sense.
Anything to put off the reality I’ll have to deal with: both of us returning to separate lives.
Hours later, we’re in bed, temporarily sated. King won’t tell me what he did.
“What now?” I ask, though I would love to remain here, in King’s house and in his arms.
King smiles sadly and drags over the coat I stripped from his body when he arrived.
He gives me a passport, and flipping it open, I see my new name.
Olivia Kingston.
“Do you have one too? With the same surname?”
It’s a sheer guess, but he nods slowly, uncertainty in his gaze.
“You could walk back into London with a different name and take up your position in Camden,” I murmur, realising the power of what he’s done. But he gave me his name. It’s there in black and white, the proof I belong to him, whatever happens.
“I could,” he agrees. “We’re both free to do whatever we want, now.”
And maybe he didn’t mean this new name to bind me to him, but I can’t help but think this meant something to him too.
“Don’t leave.” I throw out the request like a bullet.
King raises his eyebrows.
“No one knows we’re here. Don’t return to Camden. We can stay. We share a name; be my husband.”
“You’d give up your freedom for me?” His eyes are wide and full of disbelieving hope.
“Only if you give up your power for me.”
“My Lia.” He pulls me on top of him and kisses me. “I’d throw away my fortune for one more night with you.”
“You mean it?”
He holds me so tight in reply all my doubts are vanquished. I melt into him like butter in the sun.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he whispers against my lips. “I expected to have to persuade you.”
“You don’t mind?” I can’t believe it.
“Flint will take over Camden,” King says, smiling. “He’ll be a good leader. Henry is gone. That story is finished.”
“But you’ll be cast as the villain. I saw that on TV.” It’s so damn unfair.
“If I have you, I’ll be your villain,” he croons.
“You’ll be mine.” I cannot get close enough to this man. His voice. His heat. His rough fingertips on my skin. A powerful, handsome creature who wants me. My luck is a jungle. A forest. My luck is as everlasting and lush as nature itself.
“I love you.” I blurt it out.
“Oh Lia. I’ve been waiting for those words.” King draws back to hold my face and look into my eyes. “You’ve done it now. I’ll never let you go.”
