Kiss, Kiss Killian Read online

  “You misunderstand.”

  I did?

  “You’re not to be a companion for Timothy. No, you’d be a companion for Killian.”

  Come again?

  My shock apparently made Mr. King say, “He’s the one who needs the most help. Timothy was too young to remember much of his mother, but Killian suffers the most because they were so close. I’ve tried with him, but we butt heads more than anything. His stubbornness…ah. He can be impossible.”

  I mentally scrambled to piece together what little I’d read about Killian King. He was just two years older than me. Graduated summa cum laude from MIT with a degree in chemical engineering.

  And oh yes.

  He was ridiculously good looking. I’d only let myself see a handful of pictures before clicking away. Still, I remembered. Dark hair, blue eyes looking more like the sky than the sea, perfect cheekbones, a strong jaw, and a bottom lip fuller than the top.

  Yes, I definitely remembered more about Killian King than I should’ve.

  At the time, I assumed I probably wouldn’t even cross paths with Mr. King’s elder grandson. I read he worked at King Cosmetics and just assumed my employment would be with Timothy.

  I should’ve paid more attention to Killian’s facts and less to his gorgeous face. How embarrassing!

  “Miss Lucy? Do you think this will be a problem for you?”

  Yes. He’s too handsome. I don’t do well with handsome.

  Blinking quickly, I focused my scattered attention back on Mr. King. “It’s a bit unexpected. When you say companion, do you mean personal assistant?”

  “In some ways, yes. You can help him with tasks if you want. Or if he asks you to—which you can count on Killian either ignoring you completely or running you ragged.”

  That didn’t sound promising. At all.

  “But mainly you’d accompany him throughout the day, making sure he goes to scheduled meetings, no cutting out, and stay with him until the end of the workday. See him off at his car.”

  I did the math. We were talking twelve hour days with commuting. Minimum. There wouldn’t be much time left for me, much less Mr. Luis.

  This job seemed too good to be true for a reason.

  “Mr. King, please don’t take offense at my question, but are you asking me to be a glorified babysitter?”

  I didn’t offend him, but I did pain him, as if the reality of his request was insupportable.

  “Plain-speaking, Miss Lucy? Yes. That is the job. Although he does it, Killian hates coming to work because he’d rather spend his time with ladies of…questionable…morals. Or just sleeping. He’s too smart for his own good and as I said—he loves to defy me more than anything.

  “I need someone who can keep him on the right path. Someone to show him there’s a different way than the life he’s been living. Not judging him, but understanding him and why he is this way. I believe you are that person.”

  Oh my, my, my.

  Silently, I stood there looking out onto the world. One that didn’t look the same anymore.

  Taking this job would mean I’d have no personal life, no more working with Mr. Luis on the weekdays, and being in the presence of a man who seemed to hate all the gifts the world had given him because it took away the one person who mattered.

  Incredibly good looking, intelligent, and rich beyond imagination, Killian King sounded like a man whose suffering didn’t soften his edges, but made him obsidian sharp. He would see right through my position. He’d turn his nasty tongue and bad attitude on me. My job would be thankless and full of stress.

  “He’s lost, angry, and…closed off. Every time I try to talk to him I make it worse.”

  “Miss Lucy, if you’re still unsure I would like to remind you of the signing bonus.”

  I briefly put my hand on his arm and shook my head. I needed a bit of time to think this through. Keeping my gaze fixed, I scanned the horizon while going through a game plan. Mr. King respected my silence and waited.

  You can do this. Fate had you cross paths with Mr. King for a reason. Don’t deny Fate.

  Paying back Mr. Luis’s kindness to me was my life’s purpose. This right here? This could go a long way in doing just that. All I had to do was be brave enough to meet this challenge.

  Gut check. Was I that brave?

  “My offer still stands. I believe I can help your grandson.”

  “Even though he’ll be ugly and hateful?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’ll do whatever he can to make you quit.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “He won’t appreciate a thing you’ll do for him.”

  “I don’t expect him to.”

  “Why would you accept this job then?”

  I tilted my head. Now that he had my cooperation, Mr. King seemed to be second-guessing himself. Poor man.

  “Because there’s obviously so much good in Killian for you to go out of your way to find someone to help him. That’s more than enough reason for me to take a chance.”

  “Dios te bendiga. God bless you, Miss Lucy. You are just what my family needs and I will never forget this. Never.” Mr. King leaned down and kissed me on both cheeks.

  As I smiled and thanked him for his blessings, I couldn’t deny a large part of me wondered if I’d just severely overestimated my ability to help Killian King.

  Worse—what if I ended up regretting ever saying yes?

  5

  KILLIAN

  Grandfather’s door was closed and Martha politely, but firmly, kept me from barging in. Tricky lady. I had a soft spot for her and she used it to her full advantage.

  “Your grandfather is in a very important meeting and left instructions not to be disturbed, Mr. King.”

  I was Mr. King now and not Killian? Hmm…there was someone behind that door that neither Martha or Grandfather wanted me to see.

  Why ever might that be?

  My gaze flicked from the barrier, to Martha, and back again. “Ah, in that case, tell Grandfather I’ll be back later after lunch. Or not.”

  Her pink lips twitched. Good. If she was irritated she could join the club.

  Sauntering out of the office, I made my way to the first floor. There was a newspaper and chair that had my name written all over it. No more than thirty minutes passed before I heard the elevator crank up. Then down.

  Soon my grandfather’s gravelly voice echoed throughout. “I’ll see you Monday morning, Miss Lucy, and will send the papers over this afternoon. Call me if anything comes up or if you need anything. Anything at all.”

  Gramps was in fine form. Very appreciative. Fawning even. Hmm…

  “Thank you again, Mr. King. I swear I won’t let you down.”

  Nice voice. Soft but strong. Young and determined.

  Casting an eye around the corner of my paper, I saw the back of Grandfather’s appointment. Short in stature, thick hair knotted at the nape of an elegant neck, cheap but neatly-pressed suit, and what was this?

  A delicious ass that a jacket couldn’t hide. Very nice.

  Was Grandfather’s appointment more of a personal nature?

  Narrowing my eyes, I studied this possible interloper more closely. My Grandfather was too kind of a man to deserve being taken advantage of by some gold digger. If she thought she’d found an easy mark she had another fucking thing coming.

  I’d tear her world down if she even tried to sink her claws into Rafael King.

  “I know you won’t, Miss Lucy.”

  Lucy. What a rather uninspiring name.

  Well, Miss Lucy, does your face match your name?

  Holy fuck. It didn’t. This little goddess seemed more at home on the screen in the 1950s than here at King Cosmetics. My gaze zeroed in on the planes of her delicate face. Dark catlike eyes, perfect little nose, clear skin, beautiful mouth, and a stubborn chin.

  Miss Lucy was damned gorgeous. Which meant she was damned trouble.

  No matter how much I’d love to fuck her in the dirtiest ways ima
ginable, I wasn’t in danger of letting my dick control me. Not when it came to looking out for Grandfather—no matter how annoying he was by becoming a goddamned cliché.

  Speaking of Grandfather, he got back on the elevator. All smiles. He was too happy.

  I wonder why? Might it have something to do with this delicious bit of walking sex?

  I was just about to stand up when the little goddess came within feet of me.

  “Be a companion for Killian King. That won’t be so hard. He can’t be that bad, right? Of course not. A real pussycat,” she muttered as she walked past me.

  What do we have here?

  Now this was a development I didn’t see coming. Wonderful. I was sure Grandfather would’ve learned his lesson after I’d run off the last five watch dogs.

  My mouth split into a wicked grin. How nice of Grandfather to bring me a new toy to play with!

  I’d be sure to make this one last longer. Just long enough to find out what a goddess felt like when she was on her knees.

  Miss Lucy, you have no idea how bad I can be. I so look forward to showing you personally.

  6

  LUCY

  It was bright and early on Monday morning. I was excited, nervous, and optimistic as I got into the elevator. Butterflies swirled about, making my fingers tingle and toes curl and uncurl.

  I could do this. Mr. Luis and Mr. Victor spent the weekend pepping me up.

  “You’re a strong, good girl, Lucy. If anyone can help that man turn over a new leaf it’s you.”

  “I’m going to try my best, Mr. Luis.”

  Mr. Victor paused in straightening out the bread to say, “Lucy, óyeme—listen. Don’t you run off and get married to this Killian and leave us.”

  I laughed at that one. The odds of that were about one in a billion. Knowing it’d work him up though, I said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Victor. I’m going to stay unmarried until I’m forty.”

  He crossed himself and pleaded, “Don’t say that, Lucy! I want to see you married before I pass. I can’t wait another twenty years!”

  Mr. Victor’s grandson, a lawyer, entered the shop. All smiles as he greeted us. I liked Victor—named after Mr. Victor naturally. He was a good guy, always quick to help around the shop even if he was dressed in a Brooks Brothers suit.

  (I knew that because Mr. Victor proudly told me, along with the eye-watering price tag. How anyone could justify spending that kind of money on one piece of clothing…well, I’d never know. I’d rather see my cash accumulate in a bank account and not hanging in my closet.)

  Victor had reviewed the NDA with us. There was nothing in it that was over the line. Standard. I didn’t feel worried at all about signing my name with a flourish.

  And now here I was.

  Smiling, I exited the elevator and greeted Martha. “Good morning! How are you?”

  “Oh just fine!” She got up from her desk and met me. Touching my arm briefly, she said, “I’m so happy to have you working with us, Lucy. Really I am.”

  Her enthusiasm was lovely. Her audible relief—not so much. Just how bad was this Killian King?

  I was about to find out.

  “Mr. King is waiting for you. Please go right in.”

  Nodding to her, I quickly made my way into the office. I’d barely made it two steps before I drew to a halt.

  Wrong King.

  “Well, well, Miss Lucy Martin. You are indeed a surprise.”

  It was him. Killian King.

  He sat at his grandfather’s desk, feet propped up on the surface while slouched in the chair. Dressed all in black, even his tie, Killian looked like a fallen angel.

  Beautiful. Dangerous.

  My heartbeat sped up. I resisted the urge to wipe my palms down the front of my skirt. Pictures were one thing. Seeing a man this physically imposing and perfect was quite another.

  Especially when I was square in the focus of his deceptively lazy stare.

  “‘Good morning, Mr. King. My name is Lucy. It’s nice to meet you.’ Isn’t that the normal greeting between the employee and employer?”

  His low drawl did unmentionable things to my awakened senses even while it pricked my temper. I definitely didn’t do well with handsome men. Their arrogance didn’t mesh with my pride.

  “I don’t work for you.”

  Nice. Great way to get started with the man you’re supposed to be helping.

  Killian slid his feet off the desk and stood up. Holy Mother of God he was tall. He was at least a foot taller than me and since I was 5’4” in heels…

  “That’s right. You don’t work for me, do you? You work for Granddaddy King.”

  The scorn in his voice was unmistakable. Poor Mr. King!

  “You should show more respect when addressing your grandfather.”

  Hands in pockets, Killian rounded the desk slowly. “I will speak of my grandfather in whatever goddamned tone I please, Miss Martin.”

  His cursing set me on edge. There were a multitude of words one could choose. Expletives were rude and demonstrated a terrible lack of manners.

  “You’re irritated. I wonder what it was I said…hmm… Could it be the word ‘goddamned’, Miss Martin?”

  I flinched and he smiled.

  “It was. You don’t like cursing. Well, that’s too fucking bad. I curse. A lot. I damn well love it in fact. There’s no fucking feeling in the fucking world like saying the word ‘fuck’.” He stopped in front of me. “At least it makes a good substitute when it’s not being actively used as a verb.”

  I took a step back and then locked my legs. Where was this coming from? I didn’t back down from anybody. Not when they had a bat, a pair of brass knuckles, or even a gun.

  Nervous? Yeah. Scared out of my mind sometimes? Absolutely. Back down? Never.

  So what if this spoiled, devilish brat used a series of common cuss words in front of me? I heard them all the time and in far cruder ways. I didn’t like cursing for personal reasons—not because I couldn’t take it. Or because I didn’t know how to sling it when necessary.

  I could set this man on fire with my tongue. I didn’t have to wonder if he’d learn it the hard way. It was simply going to be a question of time.

  “Are you finished, Mr. King?”

  He canted his head an inch or so to the left. “Hardly.”

  I crossed my arms. “Go on then. Tell me more. I’m all ears.”

  The faint smile faded from his mouth. “Your idea of a showdown is trite. Besides, you signed the NDA over the weekend. You’re hardly going to say anything publicly so there’s no threat if I drop a series of fuck bombs, is there? Let’s switch over to something a tiny bit more interesting. Why are you here?”

  Okay. This part might not turn out so bad.

  Yeah. Right.

  “Your grandfather would like me to help make your life easier by managing your appointments—”

  He cut me off. “You’re not here to be my assistant. You’re here to babysit the chico malcriado. Keep me in line… Isn’t that right?”

  Show no weakness.

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm…it usually takes longer for the truth to come out.” Killian King circled about me, eyeing me from my feet all the way to my head. “Don’t you feel it’s an insult to your dignity to take this job? Or maybe you’re just that hard up for cash. I do believe it’s the second option. The clearance rack must still be a challenge to buy when you don’t have two nickels to your name.”

  Slow breath in. Hold it. Slow breath out.

  He was trying to get under my skin. I didn’t have to make it easy. Besides, I was poor. The finest people I knew were poor. Last time I checked, a lack of wealth wasn’t a crime in this country.

  Not yet anyways.

  Therefore, I wasn’t even going to acknowledge his nastiness. No matter how much it got under my skin.

  “Don’t you feel it’s an insult to your dignity that the job exists in the first place?”

  “Not a bit.”

  “Why
?”

  I tried to keep him in my sight, but he dipped behind me. When I turned around Killian already moved to the front. I’d get dizzy trying to keep up with him. I was sure it wasn’t by accident.

  “Because without managing me, Gramps would have to retire. He’s far too much of a control-freak to do that. Hence, I do my part.”

  “That’s not true.”

  Killian stopped in front of me. His cold blue stare sent a jolt of something uncomfortable down my spine.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lucy Martin. Don’t make the same mistake twice.” He resumed his pacing, lazier this time. “Otherwise, it’d be boring.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. This was nothing like confronting hungry or angry kids on my block. This was worse because Killian King was a ticking time bomb.

  “It’s not true.”

  “I told you not to bore me,” Killian whispered suggestively in my ear. “Didn’t Gramps warn you that boredom is the root of all my evil?”

  Slow breath in. Hold it. Slow breath out.

  He affected me in a way I’d never experienced before. I’d had men try to pick me up since I was a teenager. I knew my way around them, but this…I’d never, ever felt this kind of interest. My entire body lit up like a Christmas tree and I didn’t understand why.

  Killian wasn’t flirting or trying to hook up. He obviously couldn’t stand the sight of me. But no one this handsome walked through life oblivious to his looks or without knowing how to use it as a weapon. Even against someone he hated.

  Don’t make eyes at the boss’s grandson. Especially not this one. He knows he’s sexy and he’ll end up using it as a tool against you. Don’t fall for it. Make a stand now. He’ll drop the tactic if he doesn’t think it’s working.

  Good plan.

  Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I pretended as if I wasn’t going under. As if he wasn’t setting every nerve ablaze. The last thing I needed was for Killian King to think he’d just earned another crush.

  Which he didn’t.

  “You don’t have to be here. You’re independently wealthy, aren’t you? You can bum around Europe all year long and never be in the same place twice and never have to look at your bank account. You’re here for a bigger reason than annoying your grandfather.”