Page 54 of Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy 2)
It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever heard him say, because I’m starting to believe him.
Mount
Keira missed registration. Mostly due to the fact that we fell asleep and I woke her up with my head between her legs, teasing her clit with her new jewelry.
I sent a request down to the hotel staff to retrieve any necessary information from registration, and that gave us a few more hours, during which I didn’t let her out of bed. At least, not until both of us decided that food was imperative.
When Keira walks into the cocktail party that evening, I follow a half step behind her, using my height to survey the crowd for threats while keeping my face impassive. My little hellion took my words to heart and shows no hesitation or uncertainty, holding herself like a queen in this male-dominated room.
Heads swivel as she strolls through the crowd, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with the designer dress she’s wearing. She’s magnetic. Vibrating with energy.
“They’re all wondering who you are,” I tell her as we order drinks at the bar. Whiskey neat for both of us, made by the company with the biggest share of the whiskey market.
“More like they’re wondering who you are,” she whispers.
“Care to make a wager?”
She rolls her eyes. “Not against you. I have a feeling you always win.”
“You’re finally catching on.”
We turn and survey the room, each sipping our whiskey. I can’t see into her head, but I’m willing to bet she’s scanning for familiar faces and devising a plan of attack.
A smile attempts to quirk my mouth because I’m doing the same.
Thankfully, there’s no one in this crowd I recognize—at least, not yet. There’s no doubt my reach extends far beyond New Orleans, and while I have a large stake in the liquor distribution business, my CEO is the public face of the company. I only manage as necessary from behind the scenes. He’s here somewhere, but if he values his position, he’ll heed the warning I sent before we left that I’m not to be approached.
This week is an anomaly for me. I don’t have to be Lachlan Mount, the man whose brutality inspires fear and respect. This week, I can be whoever the hell I want. There’s a certain allure that anonymity presents, and I embrace it. As Keira engages with suppliers, distributors, and competitors, I step back, letting her take center stage. She transforms from the defiant, stubborn female I’ve been determined to bend to my will into an impressively shrewd and intelligent businesswoman.
This isn’t a shock to me, by any means. I’ve been watching her for long enough to know this is the case, but I’ve never had the opportunity to see her in action, up close and personal.
As she mingles, each person she speaks with is captivated by her, and I’m nothing but an afterthought.
What does shock me, however, is how liberated I feel.
Back in our suite later, Keira splashes whiskey into two glasses and hands me one.
“Sláinte,” she says, raising hers to clink against the rim of mine. I repeat the toast back to her as she lifts the tumbler to her lips, draining it in a single drink.
“No savoring?”
She shakes her head. “It’s not as good as Seven Sinners. Not many are.”
From anyone else, it would sound like a boast, but from Keira, it’s a simple fact. She believes in her product down to her bones.
Maybe more than I’ve ever believed in anything.
She opens another bottle and pours a small measure into a new glass.
“It still amazes me that you can drink so much for someone your size.”
Keira lifts this glass to her nose and sniffs. “Mother’s milk, I guess. It’s in my blood. I’ve been drinking whiskey nearly my whole life. God, if social services had a clue I was tasting at eight years old, I’m sure my parents would’ve been all over the news.”
Her remark turns my thoughts to all my run-ins with social services, and then all the time I spent avoiding them. “I’m sure they had more pressing cases to worry about.”
She nods, completely absorbed in tasting the whiskey, and misses the darker edge of my statement. She shoots a genuine smile at me, which does a better job chasing away the demons of my past than the entire fifth of liquor would.
“Thank you. Especially for tonight. I . . . I honestly didn’t know what to expect.” Sincere gratitude rings with each word.
