The Kingmaker (All the King's Men Duet #1) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,109
Kimba says from beside me, “won’t get him.”
I didn’t even notice her come up, I was so fixated on them.
“What?” I drag my eyes away from the two glamorous people across the room, him a dark contrast to her fairness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Lenn,” Kimba says, her usual no-nonsense tone somewhat gentled. “This is your girl. Talk to me.”
For a moment, I plan to ignore the frank sympathy in my best friend’s eyes, to tough it out and pretend I’m not in the midst of some kind of existential crisis, but I’m tired of holding this armor in place. It’s slipping anyway.
“He asked for another chance,” I say after a pause. “Maxim, he said he was young and stupid and made a mistake before. He asked me to forgive him.”
Kimba nods slowly, dipping her head to catch my lowered eyes. “And have you forgiven him?”
My laugh comes quick and hollow. “Well, yeah. I guess somewhere along the way, I did.”
“Praise Jesus. I was gonna give you ’til the end of this campaign, honey, and then smack some sense into you.”
“That won’t be necessary. At least, I don’t think so.” I glance across the room where he stands with the Russian princess. “If he’s even still interested.”
“Oh, he’s interested.” Kimba follows my stare. “He’s a patient man.”
“Not really,” I say with a laugh. “Quite the opposite, but he’s trying.”
“Then why keep him waiting? Talk to him. Tell him tonight.”
I glance at my watch. “The toast is in ten minutes.”
“The hard part is over for now. Owen’ll come back and do the countdown and then the New Year’s Eve toast.”
“And then the CNN interview,” I remind her.
She rolls her eyes up to Millie’s glittering chandelier and expels a lengthy sigh. “Screw it. I’ll do the interview.”
I press the back of my hand to her forehead.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her expression puzzled.
“Checking for fever.”
Her laugh is hearty. “You better go get that man before I change my mind.”
“You sure?”
“Girl, what’d I say?”
“Thank you.” I smile and loop my arms around her neck. “Happy New Year.”
I draw a deep breath and cross the room toward Maxim, growing more confident with each step. It seems to take forever, but finally I’m standing right in front of him. He glances up, his posture indolent, his hands in his pockets, but his eyes are sharp and questioning.
I don’t look at the beautiful blonde standing next to him, but address him directly.
“How do I get rid of her?” I ask, borrowing his question about Wallace that day in the coffee shop.
She gasps and then chuckles, surprising me into glancing at her. She really is exquisite. Her brown eyes are amused, not offended, and her smile is natural and blinding.
Maxim tips his head to the side, watching me. “Katya, could you give us a minute?”
“Of course,” Katya says, her accent thick and sexy. “Also, I told you. I knew what I was doing.”
Conversations continue around us, but we stare at each other for seconds that stretch into a minute.
“What did she mean?” I finally ask. “When she said she knew what she was doing?”
A small smile crooks his full lips. “She thought I should make you jealous.”
“Why would she . . . how does she know me?”
“She doesn’t.” He sketches a casual shrug with his broad shoulders. “She wanted to suck my dick and I said no.”
My teeth clench and I swallow around the painful lump in my throat. “Why’d you say no?”
“Because I don’t want anyone sucking my dick but you.”
My eyes snap up to meet his, and they’re completely serious. There’s no sign of humor. “Is there somewhere we can talk?” I ask.
“The garden.” He tips his head toward a large set of French doors. “Through there.”
I nod, and he pushes off the wall, grabs my hand, and leads me across the room and through the door. I hope the press of bodies hides our clasped hands. I don’t need any rumors getting started, or to field dumb questions from snoopy journalists bored with politics and looking for more.
Once outside, we’re swallowed by shadows. He’s just an intimidating silhouette. I’d know the shape of him, his scent anywhere, but what do I really know about this man asking me to trust him on a new adventure? One that risks not just something of his, but of mine?
My heart.
He pulls me deeper into the garden until a tall hedge of bushes shelters us on every side. We’ve entered a maze of