Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,341

bedroom. “Hemsworth?”

“Yes, Miss, at your service.” He bows, dressed in a black suit and cream silk tie.

“And there he goes with the bowing again,” Hot-guy mutters.

“Ooh.” My eyes widen at the realization Hot-guy knew all along—definitely not threesome material, but still handsome in a silver fox way.

“A good cup of tea will help to settle you while Mr. Ki—”

“Blake—”

“Sir, I think you are above this behavior.”

What the hell is the deal with these two?

Hot-guy rubs the back of his neck as though he’s pondering his next move without breaking eye contact. “Queenie, my name is Bradford King. Please call me Bradford. I apologize for being untruthful about my identity.”

“Bradford, you don’t owe me any explanations. Nice name. You got drunk. We flirted, we had sex. Yardi-ya. I checked your ring finger, there was no tan line or ring mark, so unless you have been unfaithful—which would not be okay with me—then you owe me no more of your time. Why are you still here? You should leave and go back to your life, and I will continue with mine...” She pauses, waiting for me to answer her.

“No. I’m definitely single. No romantic attachments. I’m not in the market for a girlfriend or wife.” The look of distaste on his face at the meer idea annoys me at a level I don’t quite know how to interpret.

“This is true, Miss. Mr. King’s fraternization with the opposite sex is based on a good time had by all and no promises. I’ve given up counting. He’s a handsome, well-to-do, thirty-two-year-old bachelor—”

“Thank you, old friend, I can answer for myself and for the glowing report on my non-existent love life, which is by choice. If you could please attend to the tea making and I will attend to Queenie and her questions.”

“Yes, of course, sir.”

And then he bows again at me, which is weird.

“I hope you don’t make Hemsworth bow to people. That’s just odd.”

“Trust me—”

“I doubt that will happen. I hardly know you.”

Bradford sighs in frustration. I gather he’s not used to people talking back to him. “Hemsworth only started that up now. That is all on him. Please sit. We need to clear the air on a few things.”

I sit, resting my back against the headboard. I’m ignoring the nausea swimming through my system. Sitting helps. I want Bradford out of here before my stepfather gets home. “Talk and make it quick.”

Bradford sits facing me, one leg bent and folded under his other leg. He’s still in his boxers, which draws my eyes to his impressive thighs, which then wanders over to the bulge in his pants. And it’s not even an erection. It’s a healthy sized bulge, which then starts my mind down the path of what he looks like naked and how big his dick is and—

“Queenie, are you objectifying me?” There’s a smug look on his face.

“What?” I wrinkle my nose up. “No?”

“Then why is your face going red? You are lying to me, Queenie.”

“Wait! How do you know my name is Queenie?” I never told him my real name.

“I’ll get to that in a moment.”

“Well, while you’re waiting for the perfect moment to tell me, put some pants on.” How am I supposed to think straight with him sitting here looking like he looks, all perfect-model-handsome and sexy? “You tell me we had hot sex. It can’t have been that good; I can’t recall any of it.” Liar.

And then he dials up the sexiest grin I have ever seen on a man. It is movie star quality. “Oh, trust me. You were hot, wild, and adventurous, and I doubt your mind has made you forget what went on between the sheets, up against the wall, on your knees, my face in your—”

A shiver slithers down my back.

“Please, you’re cold.” Thank goodness he misinterprets the shiver. “Get under the bed coverings. You’ve had a rough night—”

“Of sex?” I’m not cold. I’m confused as to why the guy is still here and with a friend.

“No… but yes, but no. There are other things to discuss.”

I hold my hand up when he wants to assist me with the comforter. “I’m fine. I need you out of here before my stepfather gets home. Let’s get on with you talking and me listening.”

“All right. In a nutshell, you excused yourself from the bedroom after three in the morning to do some cleanup of things down in the bar. You owed one of the bartenders a favor for letting you slip out for the