The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,67

of the dining room and down the hall to the nearest closed door, my father’s office. As soon as the door shuts behind us, I fold her into my arms. She’s winter sunshine, bright and warm on the coldest day of my life. I huddle into her heat and softness. Frustrated by the layer of wool keeping her shape from me, I push the coat over her shoulders and down her arms, letting it pool on the floor around her high-heeled feet, and turn her so she’s against the wall. I press into her, bury my face in the silky curve of her neck. She slides her arms around me under my suit jacket, and her fingers seek and find the tension in my back, kneading the muscles through my shirt.

“I missed you.” I kiss her forehead and push the stream of hair over her shoulder, exposing the line and curve of her jaw and neck.

“I missed you, too.” She cups one side of my face and searches my eyes. “How are you?”

“Breathing. That’s about it.”

“It’s enough.” She tips up to kiss my cheek, and I turn my head, brushing our lips together, briefly, but enough to catch fire. We both pause, our gazes cling, and our mouths part, hovering in a shared breath. The flare of passion catches us unaware in the midst of grief, but it’s undeniably the same burning want that’s never far away when we touch. I grip her by the hips and pull her so close my body is a hard question. Hers is a soft response. A “yes” wrapped in velvet, lined with satin.

The door opens, and Lennix sucks in a startled breath. I brace myself to face my father, but it’s not him.

“Mom.”

She stares at us, Lennix pressed between the hard wall and my hard body. “Introduce us, Maxim.”

Mom’s voice is calm, no sign of the wrenching sobs I heard through the walls last night. I step back and Lennix picks her coat up from the floor. I grab her hand, walking her over to my mother.

“Mom, this is Lennix Hunter. Nix, my mother, Tessa Cade.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cade,” Lennix says. “I’m sorry. We all loved him so much.”

Mom doesn’t reply for a second, tilting her head quizzically, studying Lennix’s face. “I thought you’d have horns and scales,” she finally says, a small smile making its careful way onto her colorless lips.

“Excuse me?” Lennix looks from my mother to me.

“The way Warren talks about you,” Mom continues, “I thought you might be a dragon, but Owen assured me you weren’t.”

She looks at me with the shadow of her usual sunny nature. “And Maxim’s always liked pretty girls and been an excellent judge of character, so I figured my husband was biased.”

I haven’t told my mother about our relationship, so I assume Owen did. He and Mom always talked about everything.

She steps forward and extends her hand to Lennix, who accepts, a cautious welcome on her face. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Mom says. “I saw you at New Year’s from a distance, but you were very busy, and we didn’t get to speak.”

It was only three months ago that Owen first floated his presidential run at the New Year’s Eve party in his home. The night Lennix came back to me. We made love in the garden, a dark night under a wild moon, the air heavy with hope and new beginnings. That night feels like a century ago.

My mother slides her glance from my face to Nix’s and then drops to our held hands between us. Her brows lift and one side of her mouth tilts up. “Owen told me, but I didn’t quite believe him.”

“Believe what?” I ask, frowning.

“That you were in love,” she says.

“He was right about most things most of the time,” I reply quietly.

“Or at least he made you think he was,” Mom says, her smile wobbling and then dissolving altogether. “I think I’ll go upstairs and lie down now. The guests—”

“They’ll be fine.” I release Lennix’s hand and slip an arm around Mom’s shoulders, guiding her toward the door.

“Walk her up, Maxim,” Lennix says, trailing us out. “Or she’ll get stopped a dozen times on her way. I’m gonna go anyway.”

“What?” I stop and turn. “Why?”

“I wanted to pay my respects,” she says, barely loud enough for me to hear, and slips her coat on. “We can talk later.”

“When do you go back to D.C.?”

“Most of the team leaves tomorrow.” She licks her lips