Defiant Queen

Defiant Queen

Page 9

Finally, he releases my wrist. I draw it to my chest, wrapping my fingers around where he gripped it.

“You hurt?”

I shake my head and whisper, “No.”

His forehead lowers toward mine, filling my lungs with his unique, addictive scent. “I swear I thought you knew it was me that night at the masquerade.”

The change of subject drags me out of this refuge and into reality with a cruel, abrupt jolt.

“How could you have possibly thought I wanted you—”

Before I can finish my sentence, his expression shutters, going completely blank before he levers himself off my body.

I was going to add because I didn’t even know you existed, but he’s already out of sight and my bathroom door slams behind him. I hear the toilet flush and then the taps turn on.

Moments later, Mount fills the bathroom doorway, his pants zipped and his shirt tucked in. His features are as forbidding as they’ve ever been. If I hadn’t been under him only minutes ago, my lips still bruised from his mouth, I’d have no clue he was the same man who just made me scream in ecstasy. His face is that horrible mask of granite. He’s completely shut down.

“Get yourself cleaned up. We’re leaving, and you still have a story to tell me.”






We ride back to the house in strained silence. I almost had V take her, but I’m not ready to let her out of my sight. I’m also determined to get the answers I want before this night is over.

At least three times, Keira opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but she snaps it shut before a single word comes out. Neither of us is willing to give an inch. If I do, she’ll take a mile, and if she does, I’ll take a thousand.

When I make the final turn, V’s headlights flash behind me, indicating that he’s pulling into the garage where a few of the other cars are parked.

“You’re actually going to let me see where you live?” she asks, surprise in her tone.

“It’s not like it’s much of a secret now that you’ve escaped,” I say, and catch her pursing her lips in my peripheral vision.

“True.” Quietly, she adds, “But I kind of wish I hadn’t.”

Her confession shocks me, but instead of showing any reaction, I focus on parking and getting the fuck out of the car before the smell of sex on her body drives me any more insane than I obviously already am.

I park the Spyder next to a McLaren and a Ferrari and kill the engine. With the garage door shutting behind us, I’m done waiting.

“Tell me every goddamn word he said to you.”

Instead of protesting like the hellion I’ve become accustomed to, Keira sighs. “I’m going to need a drink for this.”

I open the door and the dome light illuminates, giving me a better view of her face than the garage fixtures alone. Her expression is hard to decipher. Sated, defeated, yet defiant. Every time I think I have her figured out, I realize none of my normal barometers apply when it comes to Keira Kilgore. She’s the exception to everything I thought I knew.

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