Текст книги "Feisty Princess"
Автор книги: Michelle A. Valentine
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 6 страниц)
Margo
AT SIX THIRTY ON THE dot, the car that Alexander promised has arrived to pick me up. On the way to his place gives me time to think. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive living at his place. That man . . . he has a way of getting to me unlike any other person I have ever met. Every time he speaks to me, he evokes so many emotions within me. I have a hard time figuring out how to deal with them, considering my stupid body always seems to want to go against everything my highly educated brain is screaming not to do. I can’t believe I kissed him.
I mean, what the hell was that in his office today, and why can’t I stop liking it so much?
It’s a horrible position to be in when you find your enemy insanely attractive.
The car comes to a stop, and the driver steps out of the car. This is it. No turning back now. I made a deal with a handsome as hell devil, and there’s no going back.
I take a deep breath before I grab my purse and give myself a little pep talk. “You can do this. Be strong. And treat him like any other man whore who needs to be destroyed.”
The driver opens the door and helps me out. I glance up at the towering building and stare for a moment at how impressive it is with its gleaming glass front. Leave it to King to own an apartment in one of the richest looking buildings in Lenox Hill.
“Good evening, Mrs. King. I’ve been expecting you.” The voice laced with a heavy Scottish accent startles me, and I quickly refocus my gaze onto an older doorman with a friendly face. He smiles at me while his salt and pepper hair pokes out from under his hat. A few seconds pass and he tilts his head when I don’t immediately respond, almost to question if I’m who he’s been waiting for. “You are Mrs. King, correct?”
Hearing the name ‘Mrs. King’ throws me for a bit of a loop. It actually does take a second for it to register that I am, in fact, Mrs. Alexander King, and the whole purpose of me living here is to make people believe that we are indeed a married couple.
I clear my throat before I square my shoulders, reminding myself that I’m doing this to secure my rightful future and that I need to play my part in this whole happily-ever-after illusion. God knows I don’t need to give Alexander any reason to argue with me. It seems that when we do that, we end up tearing at each other’s clothes. “That’s right. I believe my husband is expecting me.”
This seems to satisfy the old man. He gives me a curt nod and then opens the door for me. “Right this way, Madame.”
“Thank you . . .” I trail my words as I pass by him, unsure of his name.
“Darby,” he announces while still wearing his smile.
I smile in return, completely at ease with this man who seems to be extremely friendly. I don’t know how in the world the man keeps such a pleasant outlook considering he has one of the biggest pricks in Manhattan living in his place of employment. It’s bad enough I have to fetch Alexander’s coffee and whatever else he needs while being treated like crap. I can only imagine how unpleasant he must be toward Darby when he passes by him every day.
I make my way through the elegant lobby and listen to the heels of my shoes click on the marble tile as I head toward the elevator. When I press the up button, it occurs to me that I have no clue what floor Alexander’s apartment is on.
I turn toward the front door where Darby busies himself collecting my bags from the driver and placing them on a gold plated trolley. I bite my lip, unease suddenly rocking through me at the realization of how unprepared I am for this situation.
The panic I feel must be evident on my face because the moment the doorman pushes his cart up next to me, he asks, “Are you all right, Madame?”
I tuck a loose strand of my dark hair back behind my ear. “Oh, yes. I’m perfectly fine.”
Darby’s quiet for a few moments. “You know, I was a wee bit nervous the first night my bonny lass and I settled into our cottage together. I believe that’s normal for everyone when they get married.”
“Oh, I’m not—” The elevator dings cutting me off before I babble on how I’m not going out of my mind right now when, in fact, I am.
I step inside and move to the side so Darby can squeeze inside with my things.
Darby punches the ‘P’ button on the elevator, so I make a mental note to remember that for next time. “I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about. Alex is a good lad.”
I bunch my brow together. Since I’ve met Alexander King, I’ve never heard anyone address him so informally, so this takes me aback and makes me a bit curious. “Have you worked for Alexander long?”
Darby nods. “Aye. The missus and me have worked for Alex’s family for the better part of thirty years now—since Alex was a wee babe. I think that’s about the time we moved to the States from Ottawa Valley. Aggie practically raised Alex and Diem, you know.”
That’s a lot of information to take in, but one thing definitely stood out to me about that story. “So when you say that you’ve worked for his family . . . do you mean that the Kings own this building?”
“Aye,” he answers. “It’s been in the King family for generations. When Alexander’s father inherited it, he decided to turn the penthouse into his family home.”
From the research I had done on Alexander, I discovered that his father was a very family-oriented man with a reputation of integrity. It was clear by all the photos I found of the two of them before Mr. King had passed away that Alexander and his father were close. So it doesn’t exactly surprise me that this building, much like his company, was passed on to his son too.
When the elevator’s doors open into the hall, only one door comes into view. It’s painted a soft cream color and trimmed in gold accents, making it very reminiscent of a much more regal era when paired with the red carpet that also contain gold trim. Just to the right of the door is a small box that appears to be an intercom. I stand back as Darby presses the call button to alert a bell on the other side of the door.
“Yes?” an older lady’s voice calls over the box.
“Aggie, I’ve got the new Mrs. King for ye. Care to open the door and let the lass inside?”
Within moments, the locks on the other side of the door jingle, and the door is opened, revealing a foyer fit for a palace. My eyes widen at the sight of all the marble with gold accents. A staircase stands proudly in the middle of the space, leading up to another level of the apartment. This entry takes me back to a time when I was a little girl and dreamed of being a princess living in a castle; only it’s more amazing than my dreams.
“Don’t be shy. Come on in.” The lady who I’m banking is Aggie, Darby’s wife, holds the door open for me.
She smiles as I pass her, and much like her husband, there’s a very friendly energy surrounding Aggie. The blue of her maid’s uniform enriches the color of her ocean-blue eyes while her gray hair sits in a low bun, showing off her round face.
Darby follows me inside, and Aggie quickly turns her attention from me to her husband. “He’s done well, hasn’t he, Darby? This one is a pretty one.”
A blush creeps over my cheeks as I listen to the woman dote on me.
Aggie closes the door, causing the bottom hem of her uniform to swish about a bit. “Now that we’re alone, we want you to know that Darby and myself know the truth about the situation at hand, so there’ll be no need in puttin’ on a show fur the likes of us.”
I raise my eyebrows, still not sure if I should break my cover just in case they really don’t know that Alexander and I didn’t really mean to get married.
“Don’t look so surprised, dear. There’s not much that Alex keeps from us. He gave us all the details. I still can’t believe that Henry put that silly clause in his will. I tried to explain that just because he was wild until he was thirty-two didn’t mean that our Alex would be the same. I wish Henry were here to see just how well his son has done with running the empire he built. He would’ve been so proud and that little clause would never have existed.” Aggie sighs. “It’s just a shame Alex still has to deal with all this.” She quickly backpedals. “Not that it’s anything to do with you personally, dear. I’m sure you’re a lovely young lady and we’ll be happy to have ye here until this mess is settled. I just wish he didn’t have to go through proving that he’s capable of running a business even though he makes a few mistakes.”
“The lad is only human,” Darby chimes in. “Can’t expect him to be perfect all the time.”
“He’s far from perfect.” My eyes widen the moment I realize that I’ve actually said what was running through my mind. Not wanting to offend two people who clearly care for Alexander, I try to correct my mistake. “Er—I mean . . .”
Darby laughs. “No wonder he likes her. She’s a feisty one.”
Aggie nods in agreement. “Aye. Maybe he’s found his match.”
I stand there, completely unsure of what to say.
“Come on, lass. Let me show yew to where you’ll be staying,” Aggie instructs and then turns toward the staircase. “Darby will bring your bags up to your room. I’m sure you’ll need to freshen up for dinner.”
Once at the top of the stairs, Aggie leads me down a wide hallway lined with paintings. Some of the paintings are abstract pieces, while a few focus on people. Each one is more beautiful than the last. One, in particular, catches my attention.
It’s Alexander.
He sits in a high-back leather chair, and the dark background causes the red tie he’s wearing to pop out against his gray suit. It’s uncanny how lifelike the piece looks. There’s a hint of mischief in his gray eyes paired with that signature cocky grin. Even in a painting Alexander King appears to be up to no good. It’s amazing how even a picture of him causes my body to do crazy things, like yearn his touch.
“These are beautiful,” I tell Aggie, who’s waiting patiently for me to study the pictures that I’m sure she’s passed by a million times. “Are they all the same artist?”
“They are.” Alexander’s voice causes me to jump.
Clearly, I wasn’t expecting him to be the one to answer me.
My back goes ramrod straight with the arrival of the unwelcome asshole who owns the place. The relaxed mood that Aggie and Darby had created the moment I stepped foot inside this building is suddenly gone.
Alexander comes strutting down the hall, wearing a white oxford rolled up to his elbows and the same dark slacks he had on earlier in the office. He’s clearly made himself more comfortable since the last time I’d seen him today.
He stops about a foot away and then turns to stare at the portrait of himself. “It’s a great likeness, don’t you think? I look pretty damn fantastic, if you ask me.”
I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes at his outward show of cockiness. “It’s very nice work. It’s too bad the artist didn’t have a better subject. If they’d had someone different, then perhaps this would be in a museum somewhere.”
A hint of a smile crosses his lips. “Margo, you have an uncanny ability to insult me and yet throw out a compliment. In this case, I’ll allow your snide jab at me to slide, considering you’ve just praised my little sister’s work.”
“Diem did this?” I raise my eyebrows, and it hits me instantly that I remember his sister from high school. Even back then, she was an artist, which made her stand out from all the other kids, and that’s how I remember her. Most kids I went to school with were obsessed with getting into top-notch colleges in order to be able to work for their family businesses, but not Diem. She was all about art and expressing herself.
He motions to the other paintings hanging on both sides of the hall. “She did all of these. She very passionate about her work, and she actually just sold her first piece shortly before we left for Las Vegas.”
“That’s fantastic,” I answer honestly. “She’s clearly very talented.”
This time when he smiles, it’s more reminiscent of a proud parent. It’s nice to know he’s not a heartless jackass in all facets of his life.
“Come,” Alexander instructs. “I’ll show you to your room.”
He turns to go back the way he came down the hall, and I follow, suddenly aware that Aggie is no longer with us.
We pass a couple of doors. Alexander explains that one is a bathroom and that there are seven in total in the apartment. The second door belongs to his little sister who still stays with him from time to time.
“I take it that the two of you get along well,” I state as we pass by Diem’s room.
He shrugs. “For the most part, we do. There are times when she tries my patience, but I guess that’s what little sisters do.”
“Does your mother still have to break up fights between the two of you like she did when you were children?”
This question causes Alexander’s body to stiffen. “My mother hasn’t been in our lives for quite some time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell him as the feeling of pity for the loss of a mother wafts over me. Nowhere in my research about Alexander King did it talk about a strained relationship with his mother. It then falls upon me to lighten the mood since I seemed to have brought up a touchy subject. “Well, seems to be her loss, and Diem seems to be able to create in spite of her not being around.”
He nods but doesn’t say another word about the topic.
Clearly talking about his mother isn’t something that he likes to do. I make a mental note about that so I tread lightly on the subject stay on his good side. I want this little arrangement to go off without a hitch. In order for the board to believe that we’re a happy couple, we have to maintain what I like to refer to as a pleasant working relationship.
When we come to the third door on the left, Alexander stops. “This is your room. You may decorate it however you wish while you’re here. If you need anything at all, please feel free to ask Aggie or Darby. They will see to your needs. Unless your needs are of the sexual variety. In that case, I expect you to report directly to me so that I can assist you with that. I like for all my guests to be satisfied.”
“And there’s the asshole I know,” I say. “I wondered where you’d been hiding for the last few minutes.”
Alexander pulls a key from his pants pocket and then dangles it in front of me. “You know very well that I can be nice when I want to be, Margo. I thought I was very accommodating in Vegas.”
There’s no mistaking the teasing tone of his voice, and it pisses me off. I don’t like the fact that I gave in to this man, and I don’t like him throwing the fact that I’ve fucked him in my face. And I for damn sure want to make sure that he knows that he’s never getting inside these panties ever again.
I narrow my eyes. “Well, don’t worry about being nice to me while I’m here. I made sure to pack my own battery-powered happiness maker, so I’m afraid I won’t need you to accommodate anything relating to me ever again.”
That trademark grin returns in full force. “I seem to remember you making these same threats before, and we still ended up married.”
“For now,” I reply and then snatch the key from his hand. “That’s one problem I intend to remedy as soon as possible.”
He leans against the wall and folds his arms over his chest. “Well, Princess, I hate to be the one to burst whatever perfectly planned little bubble you’ve got going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but we’re not separating until I’m sure the board buys that we were at least madly in love when we said I do and we have to pay Yamada a visit on his island this coming Thurday.”
I twist my lips. I wish I could go back and punch myself square in the face during that part of our nuptials and scream ‘I don’t!’ because now King has me by the proverbial balls, and he knows it. I just have to keep cool and not lose my head, even though the man is frustratingly gorgeous and has a body that I wouldn’t mind seeing naked again. Being so attracted to him complicates the hell out of things.
I will not be lured into temptation. I still have a job to do. Winning back Buchanan Industries and securing my future must be my main focus. It’s time to keep my eyes on the prize and not on Alexander’s stunning physique or his promises of naughty pleasure.
“Don’t worry, King. This marriage is nothing more than a business relationship for me. I’ll uphold my end of the deal. By the time I’m through putting on a show, this whole damn town will believe that we’re the most in love couple on the planet.” I square my shoulders after my little mental pep talk and shove the key into the door. I pass Alexander and step into the room without saying another word.
Alexander
MARGO DIDN’T COME OUT OF her room at all last night. Aggie got worried after a while and checked on her, but she still couldn’t convince her to come down to the main floor of the apartment for dinner. Instead, Aggie fixed a tray and took it up to her. She told me that I needed to give the girl time to adjust to the situation and reminded me that I’m not always the easiest man to live with.
This morning, I got the same coldness from Margo when I offered her a ride to work. I explained that it would be best to be seen coming to the office together since we’re a happily married couple.
I could tell that she was reluctant, but she agreed.
I steal a quick glance in her direction in the elevator. Her dark hair is down today, flowing freely in big waves over her shoulders. It’s such a stark contrast from the bright red dress she’s wearing that I can’t help but notice every curve on her body.
As if she can feel my eyes studying the contours of her body, she turns her head and points her gaze right at me. I don’t make any apologies when she catches me either. I never say sorry unless I mean it, and in this case, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with staring at the work of art that’s Margo’s body. So I might as well compliment her on it.
“Your tits look amazing in that dress. You should wear it more often,” I tell her.
She narrows her eyes. “Do you always have to be so crass?”
“Yes,” I muse with a smile. “It’s part of my charm.”
“Who said you were charming?” she jabs back at me.
I raise one eyebrow. “I seem to recall being able to charm you out of your panties on more than two occasions.”
“Well,” she scoffs. “Everyone loses their mind from time to time. If anyone ever questions me about it, I’ll plead temporary insanity.”
“Insane with lust, you mean.” I chuckle.
“Hardly,” she says as the elevator doors open.
When we step out into the lobby, Darby stands near the front exit. He smiles the moment his eyes land on us. I know what he’s thinking. God knows he and Aggie have voiced how beautiful Margo is enough times since they met her yesterday. Although they aren’t entirely pleased with the way I ended up married, they somehow believe Margo might be a suitable match for me since she doesn’t seem to take my shit. While their opinions mean a great deal to me because I consider them to be my family, I don’t think they know what in the hell they’re talking about. They obviously don’t know the bitchy side of Margo like I do. Once they see that come out, I’m sure they’ll be celebrating the day I get Margo to sign the divorce papers.
Without permission, I wrap my arm around Margo’s waist and pull her tightly against me.
She begins to pull away nearly instantly. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Acting married and madly in love, of course,” I reply as smoothly as I can.
She shakes her head. “There’s no one here to put on a show for.”
I swirl my index finger in a circle. “There are eyes everywhere. If we want to be believed, anytime we’re in public we need to make our relationship appear to be real. So get ready because these hands will be on you a lot.”
I can tell by the heated expression on Margo’s face that she would love nothing more than to smack my hand away. The woman seems to be very fond of inflicting pain to my face with her hands. I can tell this is killing her to allow me to grope her a little in public, but before she has time to argue much more, Darby steps in front of us to open the door.
“It’s almost working,” Darby says. “The two of you aren’t smiling. If you want the world to buy it, you’ll be needin’ to sell it a wee bit more.”
I glance down at Margo and plaster on the biggest grin that I can fit on my face. “Hear that, sweetie. We both need to smile. We’re in love, remember?”
“How can I forget,” she replies with a dry tone. “How’s this?”
She tips her head and stares up at me, and it gives me a moment to stare into those gorgeous blue eyes of hers. The moment she smiles, I swear to God my breath catches. I’ve never believed in the saying ‘You take my breath away,’ but it just fucking happened to me.
“You’re perfect,” I tell her, and at that moment, I mean it.
My honesty must surprise her because her usual sarcastic comment doesn’t follow. Instead, her eyes remain locked on mine as she swallows hard.
My heart is pounding like a thoroughbred’s hooves beating against the ground. I know it makes me sound like a complete fucking pussy, but if I had met Margo Buchanan in a different way, I could see myself actually being with this woman. Not only is she the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, but she’s wicked smart and has a witty tongue. Beauty and brains like hers are a rarity. She’s like finding a goddamn unicorn.
Darby clears his throat. “Your car has arrived, Alex.”
I shake my head, breaking out of my daze. I can’t seem to keep my head on straight when I’m with Margo, and I need to figure out a way to stop that. So much is riding on every move I make right now. I can’t afford to screw anything up. My head has to be in the game at all times, or I might lose everything.
The car ride to the office is quiet. I’m sure we both have a lot of thinking to do and neither of us find it necessary to make small talk. I appreciate the silence.
When we step into the elevator to head up to the office, I tell her, “Even though this is a work setting, we still need to maintain our little act, so I expect you to play your part of doting wife.”
Margo smoothes her hair down with her fingers. “Don’t worry, King. I know my part and I plan to play it well, so you better hold up your end of the deal.”
“I never go back on my word.”
“Good to know,” she says.
The elevator dings, and as if on cue, I place my hand on the small of her back. Her body shivers under my touch, and I fight back a smirk. It pleases me greatly to know that I have that effect on her.
The doors open, and since I’m much later than normal, every set of eyes in the front office is on us the instant we walk in together.
Margo stiffens, and I know she’ll probably hate what I’m about to do, but I want everything out in the open as quickly as possible. I’m the kind of man who wants to break the bad news to the world instead of allowing speculation to run wild.
I lean down and kiss her cheek and then whisper, “It’s best to maintain control at all times, don’t you agree?”
She nods and then pulls back and smiles. “Absolutely.”
That’s when she does something that shocks the shit out of me. She traces my cheek with the tips of her fingers before she kisses me. I close my eyes briefly and allow myself the pleasure of tasting her lips. She’s so damn addictive.
She pulls away before I’m ready, but I know it would be definitely crossing the line to fuck her in front of an audience even though my cock is growing stiff in my slacks. That’s a sexual harassment lawsuit just waiting to happen.
Margo saunters away, giving her hips an extra swish as she heads toward her desk, and it causes me to smile. That naughty little minx knows how to play her part very well indeed. Hell, if she keeps that up, I might just begin to buy into it.
It’s unusually quiet in the office, and I turn my attention back to the front office staff who are all frozen in place with their mouths agape. That’s enough of a show for them.
“What are you all looking at? Back to work,” I order, and they all instantly go back to pretending to be in a huge rush.
I stalk past them all, and then come to a halt when I find myself at Margo’s desk. “Good work, Mrs. King.”
She smiles. “Let me know if they need an encore to buy it.”
I shake my head before turning toward my office. “I think we’ve stunned them enough for one day.”
I try to stay busy for the rest of the day by finalizing a few small deals I’ve been working on. When it’s nearly lunchtime, there’s a quick knock on my door before Jack comes striding in.
He has a huge grin on his face, so I know that he’s pleased to hear that people are buying into the little act with Margo. “You son-of-a-bitch. You’ve done it. People actually believe that you and Margo are in love. I never thought you’d be able to get her to go along with it.”
I lean back in my chair and my lips pull up at one corner. “Come on, Jack. You’re acting like you’ve just met me. You know I can close any deal. This thing with Margo is nothing but another deal.”
He plops down in the chair in front my desk. “So if this is just a deal, it means that you’ve promised her something.”
This was the part of my plan that I dreaded explaining to Jack, but I knew it had to be done. I stand up and then smooth my tie down before heading over to the bar. I flip two glasses over and pull the glass cork from the crystal decanter before pouring the scotch.
“Shit,” Jack mutters as he pushes himself up from the chair. “If you’re pouring the liquor before one, I know you’re about to break some bad news to me. Please tell me that you didn’t give in to her demands and promise her something completely unreasonable.”
I sigh and hand him a glass. “What would you have me do, Jack? I can’t very well lose control of my father’s company.”
He shakes his head. “I get that, man. I do. But couldn’t you figure out something else to give her—write her a check or something? We’ll lose so much money if this Buchanan deal doesn’t go through.”
As much as it pains me to think about walking away from the deal I’ve been working on for months and losing out on all the money that we stand to make, it hurts way fucking worse to think about a bunch of old, greedy bastards running the company that my father built.
