King of Pride (Kings of Sin, #2)

Our proximity carried me back to last week, when we’d found ourselves in a similar position in the piano room. Only this time, it was no accident.

The world went hazy at the edges as we stood there, frozen, Kai’s body forming a protective shield over mine. No words, just the rapid rise and fall of our breaths and the adrenaline leaking into the air like battery acid. It ate away at the fog until my senses sharpened enough to distinguish shapes in the darkness.

I tipped my chin up, my heart giving another unsteady thump when I saw Kai staring back at me. It was too dark to make out the individual contours of his face, but that didn’t matter. I’d already committed them to memory—the elegant slash of his cheekbones, the sculpted ruthlessness of his mouth, the heat simmering beneath the cool veil of dark, inscrutable eyes.

The lights had gone out—nothing nefarious, but shocking enough to trigger a flight-or-fight response—and his first instinct had been to shield me.

My heart squeezed. I fisted a handful of tailored cotton and swallowed past the dry husk of my throat. Despite the power outage, electricity sizzled around us, one spark away from catching fire.

Kai shifted, his arm curling around me like he could sense the tension creeping into my frozen muscles. At first glance, he might appear soft, all quiet politeness and scholarly charm, but he had the body of a fighter. Hard and lean, corded with muscles draped in the most elegant of fabrics. A wolf disguised in sheep’s clothing.

And yet, my inner alarms remained silent, my body pliant. For all the theoretical danger he posed, I’d never felt safer.

A buzz and the darkness vanished as suddenly as it’d materialized. Light seared my eyes; when I blinked away the disorientation, my dreamy, cocooned haze evaporated alongside it.

Kai and I stared at each other for an extra beat before we pulled back with the haste of people who’d accidentally touched a hot stove.

Oxygen rushed into my lungs, amplifying the thunder in my ears.

“We should head back—”

“They’re probably wondering where—”

Our voices tripped over each other in a cacophony of noise. Flags of color glazed Kai’s cheekbones, and his jaw tightened before he inclined his head toward the end of the hall.

Neither of us spoke during our walk back to the dining room, but the air weighed heavy with unspoken words. The side of my body facing him tingled with awareness. I hated how he could do that—make me feel so much when I’d vowed not to feel anything again toward men like him.

Rich, good-looking, and far too dangerous for my mental and emotional health.

“There you are,” Vivian said when we returned to our table. “Wasn’t that wild? I’m glad the restaurant was able to fix the outage so quickly.”

In reality, the power outage had lasted less than five minutes, but time stretched so languorously when Kai and I were alone that I was genuinely surprised the restaurant seemed so normal. The earlier screams had subsided as quickly as they’d erupted, and other than a few rattled-looking diners, everyone was carrying on as if the blackout never happened.

“Do you know what caused it?” I smoothed my napkin over my lap and avoided looking at Kai, afraid even the tiniest glance would expose the tumultuous emotions whirling inside me.

The stab of jealousy at seeing him with Clarissa earlier, the breathlessness when we’d touched, the sensation of sinking into a deep, warm bath I never wanted to get out of when he held me. I shouldn’t be feeling any of those things, but I’d never been great at sticking to shoulds.

It was damn hard to keep someone out of my mind when life insisted on pushing us into each other’s path whenever possible.

“I’m guessing it was an electrical issue, but they have a backup generator.” Dante shook his head.

“Of all the fucking nights for something like that to happen, it had to be tonight.”

“It didn’t disrupt our meal too much,” Vivian said, always the voice of reason. “I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious. The restaurant offered everyone a complimentary reservation that…”

I tuned her out. I was too busy making sure no part of my body touched Kai’s above or below the table. Judging by the stiff set of his shoulders, he was doing the same.

Nerves rattled in my stomach. Dammit.

I reached for my wine and took a big gulp, ignoring Vivian’s glance of surprise. I wasn’t a big wine person, but I had at least one more hour in Kai’s company.

I needed all the help I could get.



CHAPTER 10

Isabella

The rest of dinner at Monarch passed without incident, but that was the last time I saw Kai for another week.

He didn’t show up for his usual Thursday night drink at the bar, and I told myself I didn’t care.

There’d been a time when I would’ve taken Kai’s aloofness as a challenge and dove headfirst into a forbidden fling, but I wasn’t that girl anymore.

No, the new Isabella was responsible. Focused. She had direction, and she would prove her oldest, know-it-all brother wrong if it killed her.

“Stop ignoring his calls, Isa.” Felix walked past with an armful of fuzzy red tubes. “You know he won’t stop until you answer.”

My phone vibrated with another insistent buzz, underscoring his point.

I ignored it, as I had all morning. I’d learned my lesson after picking up Gabriel’s last call and getting saddled with a ridiculous deadline for my book.

I bet my favorite black leather boots he was calling to check on my progress. Unlike normal people, Gabriel texted for emergencies and called for bullshit, so I wasn’t worried about a health scare for Mom or an earthquake destroying our family home in California.

“That’s precisely why I’m not answering,” I told Felix. “I like to imagine his face getting all red and sweaty like that time I shrunk his favorite dress shirt when he came home from college.”

My second-oldest brother laughed and shook his head.

Of all my siblings, he was the one I was closest to. Not in terms of age (that would be Romero) or temperament (that would be Miguel), but in terms of sheer compatibility. Unlike anal-retentive Gabriel, Felix was so laid-back no one would believe he was a renowned artist.

He lived in L.A.’s hip Silver Lake neighborhood most of the year, but he kept a small art studio/apartment in New York since he had so many shows here. He’d landed yesterday and was busy putting the final touches on his sculpture for some big art show next month.

Since I hated working in silence, I’d crashed his studio time with my laptop, a bag of Sour Patch Kids, and a ruthless determination to finish chapter ten before my shift. I was finally making progress on my book, and I wanted to wring out every bit of momentum before it inevitably fizzled out on me.

“Be nice, Isa. It’s probably nothing.” Felix twisted two of the red tubes into a double helix shape.