Page 69 of Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy 2)
“Louder.”
“Yes, goddammit!”
“Then you better hold on, because I’m done holding back.”
Mount is one hundred percent true to his word. An hour later, after I’ve repaired my makeup and fixed a few falling tendrils, I can still feel him as the ache pulses between my legs.
I’m still unsteady as we enter the gala. Hell, I’m still unsteady after my first drink. It’s the Mount Effect, I decide.
Everyone’s attention turns to the stage twenty minutes later when the emcee starts announcing winners of the competition. As I smile and clap, I wish more than ever I’d known I was coming because Seven Sinners is just as good, if not better, than those taking home awards tonight.
I open my mouth to tell Mount I need another drink, but the emcee hits the Tasters’ Choice category for American whiskey, and I pause because this is the one I know we could have won.
“And the award goes to . . .” He opens the envelope dramatically before continuing. “Seven Sinners Distillery, the Spirit of New Orleans.”
I look from side to side, wondering if anyone else heard what he said or if I’m still passed out drunk and hallucinating. How is this possible?
Mount’s hand shifts from the small of my back, slipping around to pull me against his side. I look up at him, shock and confusion ripping through me.
“Did you do this? Set us up to win?”
He shakes his head. “All I did is make sure they took it as a late entry. Seven Sinners won this all on its own.”
“Oh my God.” Elation, brilliant and dazzling, fills me.
He jerks his chin toward the stage. “I believe it’s time to accept your award.”
With his hand on my back, we make our way through the crowd, but I climb the stairs to the podium by myself
. My hands tremble as I accept the crystal-bottle statue and shake the emcee’s hand.
“Thank you, sir.” From my position on the stage, I scan the crowd, looking for only one face. And it’s not one of my competitors.
It’s his.
When I find it, another wave of exhilaration washes over me. He’s smiling, and it’s one I feel like I’ve only ever before seen in my garbled recollections of last night.
It’s just as brilliant as I thought it would be.
The emcee gives me a nod. “It’s our pleasure, Ms. Kilgore.”
I swallow the emotions threatening to burst free of my chest and make my way back down the stairs. Mount is waiting at the bottom with a surprising expression on his face.
Pride.
“Congratulations, Madam President.”
Mount
As much as I want to spend the entire trip home initiating Keira into the mile-high club, I have to deal with business, and she busies herself doing the same. We work in silence for most of the flight, breaking our respective concentration to eat only once.
In my organization, I expect everyone to work hard, but even then, I rarely see someone with the same work ethic as I have.
But in front of me right now, and all this week, I’ve seen it in Keira.
I was a fool thinking I could take her, fuck her, and keep her in a little box on a shelf like any other toy.
But what the hell am I going to do with her now? Last night was an anomaly. When we get back to New Orleans, things have to return to the way they were. There are no other options.
