Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy #1)

How can I hate the man so much, and yet my body loves what he’s doing to it?

It’s a mystery I won’t solve in this parking lot. I reach for the door handle, but Scar stops me with a grunt and hands a note back to me.



* * *



If you tell anyone anything, you’ll be attending their funeral.





* * *



I crumple the note and toss it between the front seats. “Tell him his twisted secret is safe. For today, anyway.”

As soon as I utter the last word and shove open the door, the toy inside me buzzes to life for a single instant, like a shock to correct an animal’s behavior. I jerk around, looking to see where he is. He has to be close, right? What is the distance on this thing?

Knowing Mount and the power he wields, it’s probably miles.

I f*cking hate him.

I force myself to slide out of the car, my head held high and my shoulders straight, and walk across the street like absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary.

Certainly not like I’ve sold my body and my freedom to save my family’s legacy.

I nod at employees, smiling and greeting them like usual, hoping like hell they don’t notice anything different about me. The London Fog trench coat is something they’ve seen before. It’s what’s under it that will raise eyebrows.

As soon as I enter my office, Temperance pops out of the seat across from my desk, and my heart bangs against my ribs.

“Thank God! I was about to send a search party out after you. You haven’t answered any of my texts this morning. The head of operations for the Voodoo Kings wants to meet over lunch to discuss the valet proposition I laid out, and he made it very clear that he wanted you there because, apparently, he doesn’t think I have the authority to make any decisions. Which I guess I don’t. But still, he was an ass*ole about it.”

When my pulse calms down to nearly healthy levels, I lie through my teeth. “Sorry, I . . . had car trouble this morning. Had to get an Uber. The first one didn’t show, and I must’ve forgot to turn my notifications back on. I . . . turned them off last night to brainstorm some ideas.”

Temperance studies me, not exactly like an alien has entered the office, but with enough curiosity that I wonder how I’m going to be able to keep up this charade.

“That’s actually smart. Sometimes, all you need is a little quiet time alone for your brain to unleash its full potential. I’ve heard meditation is incredible. Obviously, we both know that I don’t have the patience for that kind of thing, but I bet it would be awesome for your stress. Maybe you should download an app or something.”

The quiet time alone I had last night was spent contemplating how to escape a locked room, or alternatively, kill a man without putting everyone I know and love at risk. Not exactly the meditation Temperance is talking about.

“Okay, well, I’m here now, so brief me on what I need to know.” I reach for the belt of my coat and untie it before tossing it over the antique coatrack in the corner.

“Holy shit. You look . . . damn.”

f*ck. I knew this would happen.

I try to shrug off her response. “I’m trying one of those new subscription boxes. This was what they sent me. It’s not like I have the time or inclination to shop anyway, right?” The ease with which more lies fall from my lips should probably concern me, but I comfort myself with one thought—it’s in Temperance’s best interest never to know that men like Mount exist. Especially him, specifically.

“Well, it looks more like one of those rent the runway type things. You’re going to have to tell me exactly where you got it, because you look smokin’ hot.” She pinches her lips shut. “Sorry, you’re my boss, so I probably shouldn’t say that, right?”

I shake my head. “It’s fine. Just . . . trying something new.”

“Well, I’d say it’s working for you. You’re going to knock those guys dead at lunch. They’ll be so busy checking you out, they’ll probably agree to anything we say. I’ll make sure to have the contracts ready to sign.”

She sits in the seat across from my desk again and fills me in on all the details so I’m prepped for the meeting, but I have trouble concentrating because of the thing inside me.

He won’t turn it on while I’m at work, right?

I find myself asking the question over and over while Temperance runs down the list of bullet points we need to emphasize during the meeting, and I’m nodding like I agree with everything she’s saying but I’m not hearing a word.

There’s only one thing on my mind, and it’s him.

Magnolia warned me he’d f*ck with my head, and he’s doing that royally. I have to pull myself back. Find my center. I have to get back to business and pretend I’ve never heard his name.

“Right, so since we didn’t even get to discuss the price changes on the menu upgrade yet, that’s on the table to negotiate today. I think we should have Odile prepare and serve both options for lunch, and they can taste the difference. The food will sell itself.”

I finally get a grip on the conversation. “But we don’t stock what they requested for our normal menu.”

Temperance smiles with a wink. “I called in a favor from the meat supplier, and they’re bringing it over within the hour.”

I lean back in my chair. The same chair Mount sat in.

Stop it, Keira.

“How did you get him to agree to that? He’s an ass*ole about changing delivery days.”

Temperance’s gaze drifts up to the ceiling. “Well . . . I had to agree to have drinks with him tomorrow night, but I plan on coming down with a massive case of something very contagious. Like, you know, herpes.”

I’m thankful I’m not sipping my normal morning coffee, because I’d spit it out all over the desk.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. I figure that will end his constant badgering. Who wants to deal with that for the rest of their life? I mean, ewww.” Temperance rubs her nose. “But, crap, what if it gets back to my mom? They go to the same church. God, I can just hear the lecture now. ‘I didn’t raise no whore, Temperance Jane.’” The last sentence comes out in a perfectly pitched bayou accent, and I force out a laugh.

My mama didn’t raise a whore either, but that’s exactly what I am now, I think as my inner muscles clench around the toy.

How can I hate him and still let him turn me on like this? Maybe it’s not him. Maybe it’s the fact that my husband didn’t touch me for weeks before he died.

I can grieve and hate at the same time, so why can’t I desire and hate at the same time?

“So, now the only issue we have left is getting Odile to agree,” Temperance says with a syrupy-sweet smile.

“And you want me to do it.” It’s not a question. I already know the answer.

“You’re the boss, boss.” Temperance gathers her paperwork and stands. “She keeps telling you to act more like a CEO, so I figured now is the perfect time to grant her wish.”

I open my mouth to respond, but a sharp buzz rips through the toy for a single blazing moment. My harsh indrawn breath takes us both by surprise.