Page 33 of A King’s Obsession

His nostrils flared slightly before he took another slow breath. Recognition moved across his face, and his jaw tightened.

“That fucking perfume,” he muttered, looking down at me.

My stomach tightened. Of course he remembered. The first night we met, he'd damn near interrogated me about what I was wearing.

I lifted an eyebrow, refusing to look intimidated. “What about it?”

His jaw flexed. “You know what.”

I did, but I wasn't about to tell him that. Ezra moved closer, and my back met the door. His cologne mixed with the Coach Gold and My Way Sunny Vanilla lingering on my skin, making the office feel warmer than it had a second ago.

His eyes searched my face while I held his stare, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was making me nervous. Then his hand came up, and his fingers settled beneath my chin. Every smart-ass thought in my head disappeared for half a second as he gently tipped my face higher.

“Do we have a problem, Miss Sinclair?” he asked, his voice low.

I forced my breathing to stay even. “No.”

His thumb moved once beneath my chin, sending an unexpected warmth down my neck. Ezra studied my expression like he was waiting for me to admit something.

“You sure about that?” he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting.

“Positive,” I answered, refusing to break eye contact.

“Could've fooled me.”

My eyes narrowed, and just like that, my irritation returned. Good. I could work with irritation. I tilted my head slightly, giving him the sweetest smile I could manage.

“Maybe you should stop watching me long enough to pay attention to something else.”

His thumb stilled, and for one brief second, surprise crossed his face. Then it disappeared, replaced by a slow, dangerous-looking smile.

“So you noticed,” he murmured.

I swallowed before pulling my chin away from his hand. “You weren't exactly subtle.”

His smile widened just enough to make my stomach do something stupid. I should've stepped away, should've opened the door and gotten the hell out of there. Instead, I stayed exactly where I was, staring up at him like I had something to prove.

Ezra King was about to be a fucking problem. I could already tell.

And if he didn't get the hell out of my space soon, I had a feeling I was about to become one of his too.

Chapter 8

I knew E was gonna be on my ass. I knew it the second I told Jru she had the job.

He’d made himself clear after her interview. He didn’t want her working at Vice. Normally, I would’ve left that shit alone. E and I had been doing business together too long for me to ignore him just because I felt like it.

But two days later, he had to leave Westhaven to handle some business and left me in charge of getting Vice ready to open.

So I handled it.

I interviewed four more people. One knew the bar but couldn’t manage people worth a damn. Another had management experience but didn’t know enough about liquor to tell tequila from fucking dishwater. The other two weren’t worth remembering.

Jru could do both.

I needed somebody who could run my floor and keep an eye on my bar until I found the right people to split the responsibilities between. She had the experience, carried herself right, and after watching her work last night, I knew I’d made the right call.

E knew it too.