The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,26
Doc? And what guys?”
“Just a precautionary measure,” he says. “I’ve assigned you a security detail.”
“A what?” My back goes straight and rigid. “The kidnapping was specific to that country, to those circumstances, and was about Wallace and the vaccine. It had nothing to do with me. Don’t generalize the danger. I’ve never needed security and I still don’t.”
His full lips tighten, but he doesn’t speak for a moment. “This is a broader conversation we should have tonight when I get home.”
My heart contracts when he refers to my apartment as home. I melt at the thought of us sharing a home together, but I set my mouth and my will, too.
“I may go for a run a little later,” I say through stiff lips, “and I do not want to be followed. Am I clear on that, Maxim?”
He glances at that insanely expensive Richard Mille watch on his wrist. “I need to go. We’ll discuss it later.”
His tight expression loosens and he offers Mena a natural smile, charm oozing from every pore. “Goodbye, Mrs. Nighthorse.”
“Please call me Mena. I think we’ll be seeing quite a bit of each other.”
“I’m sure,” he replies, flicking his glance back to me.
“I’ll walk you out.” I stand and follow him around the corner to the small foyer of my apartment. He leans against the front door and pulls me into him, dipping his head to delve into my mouth without speaking. The tension that had crept up between us drains away, and I return every thrust of his tongue, groaning into the kiss. He slides his hands down my back and over my ass, smoothing the silk of the pajamas over my skin.
“I love these on you,” he says. “Almost as much as I love them off. Wear them again for me tonight?”
I nod, settling my feet back down to the floor. “You have plans for tonight?”
“You. You’re my only plans.” A frown usurps his smile. “When are you talking to your therapist?”
“Doc, please don’t fuss over me.”
“I almost lost you, dammit,” he says, tightening his hands at my hips. “Don’t tell me not to worry about your safety, about your well-being, about you because that shit’s not gonna fly. I don’t want to infringe on your independence, but I’m also not letting a damn thing happen to you. Am I making myself clear on this?”
“Let me make myself clear,” I fire back, stepping out of his arms and putting my hands where his were on my hips. “I’m responsible for my safety and well-being. Thank you for rescuing me from a lunatic who had a mind to kill me, but we’re home now. And I don’t need someone to caretake my life or to monitor my comings and goings.”
He blows out an exasperated breath, disrupting his hair when he runs a hand through it. “I have to go and Mena’s waiting for you. I want you to have time with her. We’ll discuss this tonight, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Now that he’s leaving, I want to wrap my arms and legs around him and lock the door to keep him with me a little longer. “I love you.”
His expression softens and he looks at me in a way I’ve never seen him look at anyone else. And I know it’s because I’m the only one he loves in just this way. He leans down to give me a quick, searing kiss and whispers his reply over my lips, “Same, baby. Same.”
I stand there for a moment after he leaves, absorbing the scent of him lingering in the foyer, before rejoining Mena at the dining room table.
“Sorry about that.” I grimace. “About all of it. We clash from time to time.”
“You both have incredibly strong personalities. It’s to be expected, but there’s obviously a lot of passion there.” Mena grins and tilts her head, considering. “And love, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You’re not mistaken.” I toy with my fork and smile. “I love him, yeah.”
“I’m so happy for you, Lennix. You know I’ve wanted someone to get past that guard around your heart for a long time.”
“He got past it alright. I just hope we don’t screw it up. He likes to piss circles around me, and as you can imagine, that doesn’t always go over well.”
“He’s a very dominant man. Many politicians are. I know. I married one.”
“Well, he is dominant, but he’s not a politician. Thank God.”
“Maybe not by trade.” Mena levels a speculative look over her coffee mug, sipping. “But he obviously has aspirations.”