The Billionaires’ Prize (The Heiress Merger #2)

20. Kingston

20

KINGSTON

I find Katherine standing beneath the shower head, hot water steaming around her, palms against the wall, and skin flushed pink from the heat. She’s so lovely, I ache. After all the years I’ve spent daydreaming about her, it’s hard for me to believe that she’s real and that there’s only a pane of thick glass separating us.

She tips her head back beneath the spray, hands smoothing over her hair. Her movements are slow, methodical. How many of these showers have I missed?

Don’t go there.

I’ll drive myself crazy wishing for two things at once. Wishing I could change the past.

I open the shower door a few inches. “Hey, gorgeous.”

She stiffens, hands stilling at her nape. Then her shoulders tremble as if she’s fighting a sob.

Alarm blares through my veins. What is going on? If one of those fuckers hurt her, I’ll end them, dreamy cock or not.

“Hey.” Her chin lifts. “I ordered Chinese from that place you love.”

Her words are breezy, meant to deflect.

I kick off my shoes and step into the steamy cocoon. “What’s wrong?”

I don’t care that my clothes are getting soaked. Hell, my phone’s still in my pocket, but it’s waterproof to thirty feet, so we’re good. The only thing that matters is her.

I close my hands over her shoulders, and she relaxes into my touch as she shakes her head.

“I’ve had better afternoons. That’s all.” She turns, and her eyes widen at my soaked shirt. “King!”

“They’ll dry,” I say, reading her mind.

She sinks against me, arms tight around my waist, cheek burrowing against my chest. Her skin is warm and wet. All those naked curves press against me, but my ardor is firmly in check.

“Talk to me, Wildfire. What happened?”

“My mom.”

I take a deep breath and hold it while I count to five. I hate that Katherine grew up with everything except a loving mother. That she pretty much raised herself and Ford. She was a big sister and mother to him. From the stories she’s told me, her father was around, but her mother spent long hours traveling and at the office.

It’s amazing that my Wildfire has any sweetness in her.

“What did she do?”

She shakes her head.

My muscles tighten as rage drips through my veins, my brain going straight to the worst-case scenario. I press her back to the wall.

She gasps as the cool tile connects with her heated skin.

Holding her in place with my hips, I press one palm to the wall and lift her face with the other. “I’ve wanted to get you away from her for years. I know I shouldn’t.” I close my eyes against the surprise in her gaze. “I shouldn’t come between mother and daughter, but I’ve hated not being here to protect you. To hold you. To support you.”

“You’re here now,” she says, her voice so soft and almost awestruck.

I nod, but it doesn’t ease all the years I missed. “I’m not going anywhere, Wildfire. Tell me what you need. Because I’m not above throwing you over my shoulder and taking you halfway across the world where that witch can’t ever hurt you again.”

My vow rings through the shower. Does she know how fucking serious I am? I’m stepping off the sidelines, and I’m not going back. What my Wildfire wants, she gets. What she needs, she’ll have. If that means getting away from here, so be it. If it means standing up to her mother once and for all, I’ve got her back.

She blinks up at me like she’s seeing me for the first time. There are water droplets on her lashes. It kills me to think they might actually be tears.

I’ve hidden this part of myself since the day we met because if there’s one thing I didn’t want for her, it was to add more stress to the pressure cooker that is her life.

“She hugged me today.”

Wow. That’s not what I expected her to say. But given her history, I can see how that’d rock her. My family has always been affectionate. Hers, not so much.

Katherine gives a little laugh like she’s trying to shake off her mood. “That’s silly, right? It was barely a hug. I started to hug her back, and she was already pulling away.”

Caressing her cheek, I duck down so I can meet her gaze head-on. “That’s not silly. It’s never silly to want affection.”

She still looks so. . . dejected.

The brief bit of physical contact must have gotten her hopes up. Thinking her mom was finally coming around and finally seeing what Katherine really needed.

What a mind fuck. Lucinda has spent years crafting Katherine into a mirror image of herself, never stopping to care that Katherine is different. My sassy Scorpio is highly emotional and incredibly empathetic, yet she holds herself back from the world and from people until she trusts them.

Which says a lot about Gabe and Alex.

She presses her forehead against my chest. “It shouldn’t be so hard.” Her shoulders lift and fall in a sad shrug. “She acted all concerned, and it just. . .”

The rawness in her voice breaks my heart, and I kiss the top of her head, squeezing my eyes shut.

“She’s gaslighting you.”

Katherine nods. “I’m done making excuses for her.”

“Good.” I cup her cheeks and meet her gaze. “Good.”

Her lovely eyes are pink, but they search mine, steady and hopeful. I scoop her up, one arm behind her back, the other beneath her knees. I step to the bench seat, turn and sit, then settle her across my lap. There’s still a showerhead facing this way, raining warm water over our chest.

We keep ending up here, finding our way to each other. Letting the water wash away the past.

“I need you to tell me the truth, Wildfire. No hedging.”

She wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Okay.”

“Do you love your job? Is it where you want to be? What you want to do? Is it worth all this pain?”

Her jaw drops, and her mouth falls open. Then she swallows, and I see the wheels start spinning in her mind, faster and faster, like a ride at Coney Island.

“Think about it, okay?” I press a kiss to her forehead, willing her to understand that my questions come from a place of love. “Life’s too short to spend so much time and energy on something that doesn’t fulfill you.”

Staring at my lips, she rakes her nails along my jaw. I need to shave, but she doesn’t seem to mind. A half smile lifts the corner of her mouth, and she cups my cheek. “Are you fulfilled?”

My heart tumbles in my chest. Of course, she’d turn this around on me. The problem is, I’m constantly torn in multiple directions. My sister Mel says I have too many interests. That was just one of the things she grilled me about over lunch today.

“We’re talking about you.”

“I think we’re talking about us.”

I close my eyes as my soul leaves my body and does a lap around the block. “Why did I have to fall for a smart girl? Why couldn’t you just be pretty and dumb like me?”

She gives me a playful smack up the back of the head. “You’re not dumb.”

I drop a kiss on the tip of her nose. “You said something about food?”

“You think you’re going to get out of this conversation?”

For the life of me, I don’t understand myself sometimes. Here I am with the girl of my dreams, naked in my arms. I should be shouting it from the rooftops. Telling her all the wild thoughts firing through my brain.

But speaking those words out loud feels like tying myself to this place. To this life.

When what I want is to be bound to her .

“No. I don’t want to be out of it, Wildfire. I just. . .”

She presses a soft kiss against my lips as if she’s trying not to spook me. My heart races in my chest. She’s right to treat me like a wild animal that needs calming.

“Whatever it is, you’re still going to be mine,” she whispers.

There’s a fierceness in her tone that sends my pulse racing. She’s claiming me. Full stop. Zero hesitation.

“We’ll work it out. I promise. Together. No going back.”

“No going back,” I agree.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. Long, quiet, easy minutes. But my thoughts veer again. What about Gabe and Alex? This relationship they’ve started is tied to New York.

“You’re spiraling, aren’t you?” She tips her forehead against my temple.

“You know me too well.”

“I try.”

She really does. No matter where I am in the world, she checks in with me. Always knows my location. Sends me endless texts and memes and GIFs and funny videos of cats doing gymnastics better than me.

Every time she sees the word ‘king’ somewhere in the wild, she takes a picture and sends it to let me know she’s thinking of me.

My stomach growls, and her husky laugh fills the humid air.

“You’re always hungry.”

“I’m a growing boy.”

“Come on. Let me feed you.”

I groan. “You’ll give someone ideas.”

I give a playful thrust of my hips, and she giggles again.

“He always has ideas.”

Standing, I let her slide down my body. Stupid clothes getting in the way.

“You’re not wrong.”

I give her a little swat on the tush and then turn the shower off. Stepping out onto the bath rug, I reach for a towel and drape it over her shoulders. Her body is the perfect combination of curvy and lean. Grabbing another towel, I bend down and dry her legs, kissing her as I go.

She puts a hand on my shoulder to steady herself. “Now you’re giving me ideas.”

As much as I want to spin her against the counter and dive between her legs, this feels like one of those times when I need to make sure she’s in the right headspace. Putting my desires on the back burner is easy when I remember how her shoulders were hunched and her chest heaved as she told me about her mother almost hugging her.

So I continue drying up all the water droplets clinging to her perfect skin.

She’s the only thing that matters at the moment. Once her hair is swept up in a towel, I hold out her robe.

You’d think I’d handed her the moon, the way she smiles up at me.

As soon as she slips her arms into it, I tug it closed and wrap my arms around her waist.

“You know I can dry myself,” she muses.

“Mmhmm. And I like doing it.” Have dreamed of doing it. “Let me take care of you.”

“You’ll get no objection from me.”

Her phone chimes on the vanity.

“That’ll be our food.”

“I’ll go get it,” I offer.

Her eyes widen. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve gotta practice, right?” I give her a quick squeeze and then pry my sodden clothes off. Maybe this’ll teach me to be impulsive. I dig my phone from the pocket and toss my clothes into the hamper. Ducking into her bedroom, I grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

She watches from the doorway, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to slip my feet into my shoes. Grabbing my phone, I press a kiss to her forehead.

“Stop tempting me.”

“Never.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, I stalk across her apartment and stare at the elevator doors.

My pulse pounds as I reach for the button, and the smile falls away. Riding in the metal box the last two days hasn’t eased my claustrophobia. Maybe the whole practice makes perfect adage doesn’t work with phobias.

As I step inside, I pull out my phone and open my text messages. Quickly, I jab the button for the ground floor and then shoot a text to Gabe.

Kingston: Kat had a rough day. Chinese food at her place?

There’s a link waiting from Katherine, and I click it like the lifeline that it is. She knows how I hate elevators, and since I stepped foot in her apartment yesterday, she’s been sending me funny videos, keeping them cued up because she knows they’ll occupy my mind while I zoom up and down in the giant steel trap.

A notification pops up across the top of the screen, and I click it.

Gabe: Coming down.

Why do they have to have apartments in the sky?

Don’t think about it.

I play the video again, watching a collection of cats with zero athleticism. By the time the elevator dings and the doors whoosh open, I’m breathing steadily.

I tip the delivery guy, grab the food, and turn back to my nemesis. The aromas coming from the bag make me salivate. She’s so good to me.

“One more time,” I whisper to myself. My phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance down to see a new link from Katherine.

The twin doors open as soon as I hit the button. Most people love when an elevator is ready and waiting for them. It’s like winning a little lottery.

Not me.

I need those extra seconds—minutes are better—to work myself up for it. To breathe and think happy thoughts.

There’s no time for a pep talk, but luckily, I’m alone with my fear.

I swallow, fighting the unease in my gut. People ride elevators millions of times a day. This isn’t a movie, and some fucker named Klaus or Hanz or Franz isn’t going to cut the cables.

Inside, I send the elevator skyward and immediately load Katherine’s video. It’s a compilation of kittens and a couple of puppies snuggling up to their humans. A tiny orange kitten bravely climbs up a man’s chest and tries to settle in between his neck and his shirt collar, but it slips and rolls down the guy’s arm.

The ‘why didn’t you catch me’ look the little fuzzball gives the man makes me laugh. Typical feline.

I reply to her text.

Kingston: I’ll always catch you. face blowing a kiss emoji

Three dots appear immediately.

Katherine: ditto. smiling face with open hands emoji

My cheeks puff up like a chipmunk, and I blow out a sigh. She really is the best friend a man could ask for. I glance up at the ceiling, thanking my lucky stars. She forgave my gaff. Even better, she wants me just as I want her. I’m so freaking happy. Relieved.

Well, not at the moment. But as soon as I step off of this box of death, I will be.

Ding.

The doors open, and the breath I’ve been holding whooshes out.

“Honey, I’m home,” I call, my voice echoing down the wide hallway.

There’s a masculine snort from deeper in her apartment. “Cute,” Gabe calls.

Whatever. Her tinkling laugh tells me I’m right on the money. She stands in her bedroom doorway, smearing lotion on her hands.

“What are we thinking? Table? Couch? Bed?”

“Chinese food in bed?” Gabe asks, brows hovering near his dreamy hairline.

We turn to stare at him.

“You’ve never had a bad day, ordered half the menu, and vegged in bed all evening?” I ask.

“I have a couch,” he says as if it’s as obvious as the furrow between his brows.

“Yeah, but this way, you don’t really even have to get out of bed later. You just snuggle down and go to sleep with a full belly.” I pat my six-pack.

The expression in his eyes shifts from confusion to desire in a heartbeat. But it’s not sexual. No, it’s like a lightbulb going off over his head because he sees the method to the madness.

“Come on, geek boy. We’ll show you how it’s done.” I step past Katherine and head for the far side of the bed, balancing the heaping bag of containers on the nightstand.

I toss one of the throw pillows onto the chaise lounge and then make myself at home against the headboard. Katherine’s bed is big and comfortable and layered with soft linens and plush pillows. Basically, it’s heaven.

“If you get soy sauce on the duvet, my housekeeper will throttle you,” Katherine says as she heads for the bathroom and hangs up the towel. A moment later, she returns, brushing her hair out with her fingers.

Gabe glances warily at the opposite side of the bed. Maybe he needs a distraction. I grab the remote and toss it to him.

“Pick something for us.”

He turns to the TV on the opposite wall and seems happy to have something to do. Before long, he’s settled on the opposite side of the bed, flipping through options.

Katherine crawls up the middle. I hand out food as we veto one show after another.

An action movie starring Liam Neeson pops up, and Kat makes a funny sound in her throat.

I pause with a mouthful of chicken chow mein and look at her.

“What? I’ve never seen it.”

“But she wants to see it,” I tell Gabe, leaning forward so I can look him in the eye.

She huffs and settles back into the cloud of pillows.

“She has a thing for protective guys,” I add, ignoring her eye-roll.

“That explains a lot,” Gabe replies, then downs the last of an egg roll. “Think you got enough food?”

“It’s his favorite,” Katherine explains, and I get that funny, fluttery feeling in my chest again. Like a dozen butterflies doing somersaults inside my ribcage.

“She spoils me.”

“We spoil each other.”

True.

There’s a beat of silence. Gabe stares at us like we’re a science fair project. Then he waves his fork, pointing from me to Katherine and back.

“How have you two never hooked up before now?”