King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

CHAPTER ONE

Sex with a ghost. Sex with a ghost. Am I really going to do this? I stared into my champagne glass, my hand trembling as I focused—tried to focus, anyway—on the delicate bubbles fizzing to the surface. It was all I could do to keep from getting up and running from the nearly empty restaurant or stealing yet another look at my date. His unsettling, raw masculinity nearly undid me every time, despite knowing that his exterior was a façade.

How did I get myself into this?

“Miss Turner,” he said in that deep, dark, disapproving tone, “look at me.”

I knew I had to face this situation head-on, so to speak. There would be no running away.

You can handle it. Hell, I’d endured a heck of a lot worse these past few months—physical threats, being kidnapped, watching my brother get murdered; however, my mental armor wore thin.

Doesn’t matter. You’re in the home stretch now.

I finally willed myself to gaze across the table at the imposing, exquisite, and dangerous man, his sleek muscular body draped in an expensive tux.

Stunning.

I listened to my heart beat exactly three times and then sucked in a shallow breath, willing my heart to continue pumping.

The way the candlelight danced over his finely sculpted cheekbones, chiseled jaw, and sensual lips mesmerized me. I couldn’t help it. Then there were those dark lashes and his thick, wavy black hair that fell just behind his ears, and…Well, let’s just say his appearance made it easy to forget who he was: an ancient, dead king cursed to roam the earth for eternity. His modern camouflage wasn’t simply exquisite; it was flawless.

Sweat began to trickle down my spine beneath my little black dress, forcing me to shift in my seat. Breathe, Mia. Breathe.

“Stop the incessant fidgeting, Miss Turner, and tell me how you like the champagne.” He stared unblinkingly at me with his icy gray eyes.

Trying to project an air of calmness, I casually brushed my crazy blonde waves from my face and picked up my menu, finding sanctuary from my thoughts on page two. “Um. The champagne is good. I like it.”

Idiot. Even I, with my whiskey palate, knew this was a five-hundred-dollar bottle of fermented grape juice fit for the gods.

Or a king.

Able to hear my thoughts, he smirked, and two tiny but deep dimples puckered in his stubble-covered cheeks. “Do you know what you’d like to order?”

“Not really.” I didn’t normally eat this sort of stuff—quail egg sushi rolls with a ginger plum reduction, or wild sea bass with a lilac honey glaze. It sounded pretty good, but for one hundred dollars a plate, I didn’t feel right rolling the dice on my menu selection.

You’re going to have sex with King tonight, and you’re worried about what to order?

“That is exactly right, Miss Turner.” He pinned me with his cool eyes. “Ordering the wrong dish isn’t the end of the world. Sex on the other hand…” He scratched his unshaven chin. “I expect my order to be perfect. Or there will be consequences.” He flashed a wicked little grin.

Dammit.

“Stay out of my head,” I said.

“Let us cut the crap, Miss Turner. I can hear you. I can either pretend not to, or we may both simply acknowledge that this is a fact. If I pretend, however, I will not be gaining any…” he reached for the words, “yards. Yes—yards with you.”

“So we’re playing football now?” I supposed the sports metaphor felt appropriate. He wanted to win and would mow down anyone who got in his way. Right now, he needed to win me. All of me. Why? I’d get to that in a moment.

“No. Our game is far more serious than that.” He dipped his head a notch and gazed hungrily across the candlelit table, pushing my body temperature up ten more degrees despite my effort to ignore the hold he had over me.

“The game of life,” I muttered under my breath.

“Greater than that.”

What could be bigger than life? I wondered.

“The eternity of death,” he replied to my thoughts with a curtness that needed no explanation. He was, after all, dead and had been for over three thousand years, searching for an escape from the cruel, horrifyingly painful curse cast upon him by his unfaithful wife, Hagne. Hagne had been a Seer of Light like myself with the ability to see people’s energy. Sometimes I saw imprints left behind by objects, too. Obviously, I suspected Seers were capable of much, much more—case in point: Hagne’s curse—but I’d never know. I was the last Seer. Which was why King had an interest in me far beyond anything casual. And if I were to be honest with myself, a part of me, the part that lived in the darkest recesses of my mind, wanted him back.

“Do you plan to answer me this evening, Miss Turner?” King asked.

I pushed my mind away from any thoughts of sex and tried to focus on the conversation. “H-h-honesty. What else? If you can’t stop hearing my thoughts, there’s no point in pretending.”

He smiled in that sexy, sinful sort of way that could melt a woman’s panties off her body—like it or not. Yeah, he was powerful.

“I meant, what dish will you be ordering? I already knew you would choose honesty. You’re not one to advocate lying.”

He was right about that. I couldn’t tolerate dishonesty. Which was why I struggled with what was to come after dinner. Why did he insist on making sex part of our new “deal”?

King leaned in. “Mia, how many times must I explain this? The Artifact will allow me to bring back one life, just one. Do you want your brother returned to you or not?”

I looked toward the panoramic view of San Francisco, the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge off in the distance. “You know I do.”

Long story short, Justin had been murdered. And while some might argue whether he’d deserved to die, at the end of the day, he was family. My family. And returning Justin to my parents was the only way to make my family whole again. But to bring him back, I needed to break King’s curse. To break his curse, we had to get a hold of the Artifact—a rock that King’s ex-wife had used to bind his curse. To break the bond between King and the Artifact, a Seer had to undo it.

That’s where this all got weird. Utterly and truly weird. According to him, the bond could only be broken with love.

Yeah, pretty damned strange. Definitely complicated.

However, I’d spent a lot of time thinking this one over. If Hagne used hate to create his situation, then it only made sense that the opposite energy would undo it. Sort of like an antidote.