King’s (The King Trilogy #1)(11)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

He was enjoying this.

He took another long puff and blew it out. “Your brother is a smuggler. We believe that someone very close to him, someone living on the other side of the border, was assisting him.”

“What?” I straightened my spine. “That’s bullshit. Justin was a scientist. He detests drugs.”

Agent Guzman flicked his ashes on the floor. “I did not say drugs, Miss Turner. I said smuggler. Of artifacts.”

Justin was smuggling? First of all, I didn’t believe it. Second, nothing he dug up was of any interest to anyone except other geeky archaeologists or a museum. Third, Justin was never in it for the money. He loved the hunt. He loved learning. But it didn’t matter what I thought.

“You think I was helping him?” I asked.

Agent Guzman stood and closed the gap between us, placing both arms on either side of my head. He blew his disgusting, sour breath mixed with cigarette smoke in my face.

“Mr. Vaughn,” he whispered in my ear, “wants his things returned.”

Mr. Vaughn. I had no idea who that was.

“Until this happens,” Guzman continued, “you are to remain in our custody.”

“I don’t know anything. I just want to find my brother.”

“I find that hard to believe, Mia. We saw Justin’s phone records. You are the only one he called on a frequent basis.” He snapped his fingers, and in walked that same soldier armed with a rifle. “I suggest you cooperate…” he dipped his head, “fully.”

The soldier smiled with a sinister grin and shut the door. He propped his rifle in the corner and then undid the top button of his pants.

I glanced back at the agent, who reminded me of a hungry lion about to enjoy watching a helpless animal get torn to shreds.

“Whoa.” I held out my hands. “I’m sure that this is a mistake—”

“There is no pinche mistake,” Guzman hissed. “But we will enjoy your company all the same.”

There was a knock at the door. The sliver of a petite woman’s face showed through the crack. She wore a dark green military uniform. I couldn’t understand what they said, but the agent and soldier cursed before promptly leaving the room without giving me a second thought, leaving the door partially open.

I leaned over and tried not to vomit. Holy f**k. Holy f**k. This can’t be happening.

When the door swung open, King’s imposing frame and tailored black suit were the last things I expected to see.

He leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms. His light-gray eyes slowly washed over my body, his unsettling expression somewhere between hunger and irritation and, well, relief. “Detained, Miss Turner? Aren’t you full of surprises?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Bewildered, I gazed at the unearthly perfection of King’s masculine face—the line of his angular jaw, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips—as he scowled from the doorway of the airport interrogation room.

“You and I need to have a little talk, Miss Turner.”

I couldn’t agree more, but given what had just happened and that I was now in the imposing presence of an emotionally charged King, I lacked the ability to form a coherent word.

“What’s the matter, Miss Turner? Federale got your tongue?”

“N-no. Not exactly.” However, had King arrived a few minutes later, I was certain the federale or his army boy would have had another part of me. Sick bastards.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked.

He sneered. “I generally know everything worth knowing. Except when people, foolish girls in particular, decide to hide things from me. In that case, bad things happen. But not to me. You remember that next time, Miss Turner.” He gestured for me to leave the room, but my feet had stuck to the floor, both literally and figuratively. “You are welcome to stay, but I have an appointment I cannot miss.” He glanced at his watch, and I caught a glimpse of a few thick black lines on his forearm. A tattoo. I found it hard to believe such an uptight man, so preoccupied with his immaculate appearance, would waste his time with body art.

“Are they really going to let me walk out of here?” I asked.

“Yes.”

Okay. I wanted to ask how—had he paid them off?—but it seemed much more important to get the hell out of there.

I slid past him and ignored the sensual chills that swept through my body when my arm grazed his chest. I ignored his menacing presence behind me as the overhead lights flickered along the lonely hallway.

“Take a right,” he said. “Up the stairs.”

Were we in the basement? I didn’t remember going down any stairs.

I walked up a flight and exited through a set of heavy steel doors that led outside. I paused to figure out where I was. It was nighttime now, and the roar of airplane engines filled my ears.

I glanced back at King. Even now, standing on a windy, noisy landing strip, having rescued me from whatever-the-fuck that had been back there, he looked so calm, like an elegant gentleman on his way to a power-meeting to talk numbers and sip cognac. Did anything rattle his cage? Anything at all?

“This way.” He jerked his head toward a private jet parked alongside a small hangar. I followed him across the asphalt, up the Jetway stairs, and boarded, shocked as hell when I saw my belongings neatly deposited in the first row of black leather seats.

“How did you get my stuff back?”

King ignored my question. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’d been run out of Mexico City four weeks ago?” he snapped.

“You didn’t ask.”

A frigid glaze washed over his gorgeous, supremely masculine face. “I shouldn’t have to. And let’s get one thing clear, Miss Turner, if you keep something from me again, your brother won’t be the only person missing. That’s not a threat, by the way, but a warning. I can’t help you if I don’t know everything.”

I glanced down at my feet, holding back that something horrible building inside my chest. “There’s not much to tell. They were wearing masks. They broke into my hotel room and told me to go home, to stop asking questions.” That’s when it hit me. That agent’s voice had sounded familiar. “I think it was that Guzman guy.”

King dipped his head and drilled me with his pale gray eyes which said, No shit, woman. Instead, his mouth said, “Did they touch you?” His gazed quickly flashed to my br**sts. It made me feel vulnerable and naked, like he could see right through my snug white turtleneck.