Page 13 of Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy 2)
“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.
“Let’s go.”
I climb out of the car, and she’s still trying to find the latch to open hers when I round the hood and open it for her, grasping her by the hand to pull her out.
“Stupid fancy cars.”
“Says the girl with one that barely runs.”
Her shoulders stiffen at the insult. “Sorry, I don’t have a bazillion dollars of dirty money to build a supercar collection.”
“You make your money feeding people’s addictions. How is it any different from what I do? We’re both in the business of sin, just in different ways.”
“I don’t even know what the hell you really do. And don’t make me sound like a drug dealer. My business is perfectly legal.” Her chin lifts with her condescending tone.
Rather than address the part of her comment about not knowing what I really do—because that’s something I have no plans to ever tell her—I focus on the one thing she can’t deny.
“Tell me alcoholism can’t be just as destructive as drug addiction.”
“It’s different!”
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart, but get off your high horse once in a while to acknowledge that what you do isn’t pure and innocent either.”
She snaps her mouth closed, and I assume it’s because she doesn’t have a reply. Again, I’m wrong.
“Take me to the booze. You better have the good stuff.”
I think of the whiskey I almost drank earlier but wouldn’t, because I didn’t want to feed into my obsession with her. That goal is well and truly fucked after tonight.
“I have the best of everything, and that includes liquor.”
I wrap my hand around hers and pull her to a secret door in the garage that leads into the network of internal hallways, rather than going by way of the normal entrance.
She tries to tug her hand away, but my grip is stronger. Eventually, she stops fighting in favor of asking questions.
“How much did it cost to build all these? Or were they already here? Are those peepholes? Oh my God, do you have peepholes into my room?” Abruptly, she stops moving, forcing me to a halt.
I turn halfway, just enough to meet her horrified gaze. “Why would I need peepholes when I have cameras on every angle of your rooms?”
Her mouth drops open and she sucks in an outraged breath. “I can’t believe you let people watch me! Us!” She lifts her free hand like she’s going to slap me again, but I snag it in midair, which is turning out to be a handy skill with this fiery redhead.
“You got in your only free shot tonight. The next time you try to hit me, I’ll take it out on your ass, tenfold. Actions have consequences. Especially if there are other eyes watching.”
I’m not sure which part of what I said finally penetrates, but her hand goes slack.
“Do you really think I’d let anyone see your tits, your ass, or your pussy? You’re mine, and I don’t fucking share. No one has access to those feeds but me. The control room only watches your tracker on GPS, and when they alerted me, I pulled the private camera feeds.”
