“You’re not dangerous.”
He lets out a sharp laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “You haveno ideahow wrong you are.”
“Okay, Mr. Dangerous,” I say, crossing my arms. “Explain it to me, then.”
His jaw tightens again, and for a moment, I think he’s going to dodge the question. But then he steps closer, towering over me in a way that makes my breath hitch.
“You don’t answer the door like that unless you’re expecting someone—” He stops, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “—someone who matters.”
I blink up at him. “But you’re the person who matters most to me.”
For a second, he looks like I’ve knocked the wind out of him. He drags a hand down his face and groans. “Kingsley, that’s not?—”
“What?” I say, leaning forward. “Not true?”
He gives me a sharp look, then shakes his head. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“Have you ever even been with a man?”
I rear back, startled. “Like, romantically? Why would you ask that? That’s so personal.”
He shrugs. “You just said I’m the person who matters most to you.” As if that’s reason enough to share my private life with him. I fix him with an irritated look.
“No.”
“Jesus Christ.” He mutters it under his breath, like he’s speaking to himself, before pacing the room.
“Well, I haven’t had many options, have I?” I’m genuinely confused.
He stops, turning to face me, his expression a mix of irritation and something else. Something darker. “The problem, Kingsley, is that you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
My heart skips a beat, but I plaster on a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “You don’t like the shorts?”
His lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile. Instead, he steps closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “Kingsley, I’m this close—” He holds up his hand, thumb and forefinger barely apart. “—to losing my goddamn mind.”
I stare at him, my pulse racing. “Why?”
He sighs, raking a hand through his hair again. “Because you’re infuriating, beautiful, and... impossible to stay away from.”
I blink. Then, with a slow grin, I say, “So youdolike the shorts.”
For a moment, he just stares at me, and then—finally—he lets out a low, reluctant laugh. “You’re going to be the death of me, Kingsley.”
“Well,” I say, batting my lashes. “At least you’ll die entertained.”
57
DANTE
The universe is definitely trying to tell me something.
I run a hand through my hair and look in the mirror, trying to see through all the layers of crazy that have dogged me lately. I don’t even recognize myself. If the thoughts I’ve had about Kingsley before today were dark, I am now ready to defile her. Women have always been my weakness. And now one woman would become my downfall.
It had been excruciatingly painful to keep my hands to myself once Kingsley had unveiled herself to reveal that she was the girl I had saved at the club weeks ago. When I’d finally realized that she was Maddog Murray’s one and only child – a girl who had paraded as a boy to protect her identity – I not only developed a newfound respect for her, but I also found myself drawn to her in a way I shouldn’t be. She was after all the daughter of my father’s enemy, and she had no place in my world. But that connection I had felt with her, that invisible magnet that had drawn me in, coupled with my father’s insistence that I keep her safe, had ensured my unyielding efforts to keep her by my side.
When I knock on her door to ask her what she feels like doing, it’s because I believe that a few hours off the usual routine of training and meetings and prepping her for her role as head of the Murray family will do Kingsley good. A break from the usual monotony she has grown accustomed to. We will only be in New York another two days before we fly back home, and I know that once we are back, we have to hit the ground running and there’d be no slowing down.