Feisty Princess (Sexy Manhattan Fairytale #2) (5 page)

A wicked smile lights up Margo’s face as she stands up and sticks her hand out to me. “You’ve got yourself a deal, baby.”

Internally, I cringe, but I know I have to look at the bigger picture in this situation. Losing this deal with Buchanan Industries is going to hurt like a motherfucker, but losing control of my company will hurt a lot fucking worse.

I stand and then walk around the desk in order to take her hand in mine. Immediately, the warmth of her touch causes my heart to pound a little harder in my chest as my body craves to get my hands on more of her soft skin.

I lick my lips as my eyes flit down to her mouth. “I’ll expect you to be at my house, suitcase in hand, by seven sharp.”

“Excuse me?” Margo instantly attempts to pull away from my grasp, but I don’t let her go. “You didn’t say a thing about me living with you.”

I cock my right eyebrow as I stare down at her. “Married couples generally live together.”

“Yes, but typically those people like each other,” she growls as she pulls again to break free of me.

A smirk crosses my face. “Are you saying that you don’t like me?”

“I despise you,” she hisses.

Whenever Margo gets into bitch mode, it triggers something in me that’s so insanely attracted to her that I can barely contain myself. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I have her by the nape of the neck and am crushing my lips to hers.

At first her eyes widen, but she doesn’t fight me a bit. As a matter of fact, it seems to turn her on. Because the next thing I know, her hands are in my hair and our bodies are pressed so close I can feel the curve of her tits against my chest.

I spin Margo around and push her ass against my desk. A loud crash echoes through the room as I shove all the paperwork from my desk to the floor.

I grip her hips as she shoves my jacket off my shoulders. “I’ve thought about fucking you on this desk since the first time I saw you.” She moans into my mouth as I slide my hand between her thighs until my fingers trace the silky material of her panties. “I’ve missed the taste of this sweet pussy on my tongue. Just think about how fun this is going to be when we get to my apartment tonight.”

I’m unable to resist the urge to touch her. She tosses her head back, and I seize the opportunity to nip at her earlobe and inhale her sweet perfume. My cock jerks inside my slacks, and I want nothing more than to take her right here. Right now.

I shove the silk material of her panties out of the way and slide my index finger against her swollen clit. “Always so wet, Margo. I love that about you.”

With my free hand, I hitch her leg around my waist so I can spread her wide and work her into a frenzy.

“Oh, that’s it,” she moans as I continue my assault on her pussy. “Alexander . . .”

The way she says my name—all breathy while she’s on the verge of orgasm—nearly makes me come in my pants. This woman has no idea how much she turns me on.

“Come for me, Margo,” I order, needing to watch her as she lets go.

She lets out a cry that I’m sure the rest of the office would hear had she not buried her face into the crook of my neck. Her entire body shakes against me as I flick her click and she comes hard.

The heat of her breath warms the skin on my neck. Desperately needing my own release, I pull back and stare into her eyes. “Now, it’s time for you to get on your knees for me.”

As the words leave my mouth, a sharp pain slices through my bottom lip as Margo bites me just a little too hard. She shoves me away from her and then smacks me square in the face.

I rub my cheek, completely confused. “What the fuck was that for?”

Margo’s nostrils flare as she draws back to smack me again. This time, I catch her by the wrist before she can make contact with my face. “Stop it! Jesus!”

She yanks her arm out of my grasp and straightens her skirt. “I don’t like to be used. I thought I made it perfectly clear when we were in Vegas that I’m not going to be one of your hired hookers. If you think the deal we just made changes that, then you’re sorely mistaken. Married or not, I am not some little slut for you to use whenever you feel like it.”

She doesn’t give me a chance to say another word. She turns on her heel and storms out of my door, slamming it so hard in the process that one of the pictures falls off the wall.

I stand there with my mouth agape like a fucking idiot. For once in my life, I’m at a fucking loss for words. The thought of using her in that manner never crossed my mind, but now that she’s put it out there, having Margo Buchanan around as my live-in sex slave doesn’t sound so bad.

Margo

AT SIX THIRTY ON THE
dot, the car that Alexander promised has arrived to pick me up. On the way to his place gives me time to think. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive living at his place. That man . . . he has a way of getting to me unlike any other person I have ever met. Every time he speaks to me, he evokes so many emotions within me. I have a hard time figuring out how to deal with them, considering my stupid body always seems to want to go against everything my highly educated brain is screaming not to do. I can’t believe I kissed him.

I mean, what the hell was that in his office today, and why can’t I stop liking it so much?

It’s a horrible position to be in when you find your enemy insanely attractive.

The car comes to a stop, and the driver steps out of the car. This is it. No turning back now. I made a deal with a handsome as hell devil, and there’s no going back.

I take a deep breath before I grab my purse and give myself a little pep talk. “You can do this. Be strong. And treat him like any other man whore who needs to be destroyed.”

The driver opens the door and helps me out. I glance up at the towering building and stare for a moment at how impressive it is with its gleaming glass front. Leave it to King to own an apartment in one of the richest looking buildings in Lenox Hill.

“Good evening, Mrs. King. I’ve been expecting you.” The voice laced with a heavy Scottish accent startles me, and I quickly refocus my gaze onto an older doorman with a friendly face. He smiles at me while his salt and pepper hair pokes out from under his hat. A few seconds pass and he tilts his head when I don’t immediately respond, almost to question if I’m who he’s been waiting for. “You are Mrs. King, correct?”

Hearing the name ‘Mrs. King’ throws me for a bit of a loop. It actually does take a second for it to register that I am, in fact, Mrs. Alexander King, and the whole purpose of me living here is to make people believe that we are indeed a married couple.

I clear my throat before I square my shoulders, reminding myself that I’m doing this to secure my rightful future and that I need to play my part in this whole happily-ever-after illusion. God knows I don’t need to give Alexander any reason to argue with me. It seems that when we do that, we end up tearing at each other’s clothes. “That’s right. I believe my husband is expecting me.”

This seems to satisfy the old man. He gives me a curt nod and then opens the door for me. “Right this way, Madame.”

“Thank you . . .” I trail my words as I pass by him, unsure of his name.

“Darby,” he announces while still wearing his smile.

I smile in return, completely at ease with this man who seems to be extremely friendly. I don’t know how in the world the man keeps such a pleasant outlook considering he has one of the biggest pricks in Manhattan living in his place of employment. It’s bad enough I have to fetch Alexander’s coffee and whatever else he needs while being treated like crap. I can only imagine how unpleasant he must be toward Darby when he passes by him every day.

I make my way through the elegant lobby and listen to the heels of my shoes click on the marble tile as I head toward the elevator. When I press the up button, it occurs to me that I have no clue what floor Alexander’s apartment is on.

I turn toward the front door where Darby busies himself collecting my bags from the driver and placing them on a gold plated trolley. I bite my lip, unease suddenly rocking through me at the realization of how unprepared I am for this situation.

The panic I feel must be evident on my face because the moment the doorman pushes his cart up next to me, he asks, “Are you all right, Madame?”

I tuck a loose strand of my dark hair back behind my ear. “Oh, yes. I’m perfectly fine.”

Darby’s quiet for a few moments. “You know, I was a wee bit nervous the first night my bonny lass and I settled into our cottage together. I believe that’s normal for everyone when they get married.”

“Oh, I’m not—” The elevator dings cutting me off before I babble on how I’m not going out of my mind right now when, in fact, I am.

I step inside and move to the side so Darby can squeeze inside with my things.

Darby punches the ‘P’ button on the elevator, so I make a mental note to remember that for next time. “I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about. Alex is a good lad.”

I bunch my brow together. Since I’ve met Alexander King, I’ve never heard anyone address him so informally, so this takes me aback and makes me a bit curious. “Have you worked for Alexander long?”

Darby nods. “Aye. The missus and me have worked for Alex’s family for the better part of thirty years now—since Alex was a wee babe. I think that’s about the time we moved to the States from Ottawa Valley. Aggie practically raised Alex and Diem, you know.”

That’s a lot of information to take in, but one thing definitely stood out to me about that story. “So when you say that you’ve worked for his family . . . do you mean that the Kings own this building?”

“Aye,” he answers. “It’s been in the King family for generations. When Alexander’s father inherited it, he decided to turn the penthouse into his family home.”

From the research I had done on Alexander, I discovered that his father was a very family-oriented man with a reputation of integrity. It was clear by all the photos I found of the two of them before Mr. King had passed away that Alexander and his father were close. So it doesn’t exactly surprise me that this building, much like his company, was passed on to his son too.

When the elevator’s doors open into the hall, only one door comes into view. It’s painted a soft cream color and trimmed in gold accents, making it very reminiscent of a much more regal era when paired with the red carpet that also contain gold trim. Just to the right of the door is a small box that appears to be an intercom. I stand back as Darby presses the call button to alert a bell on the other side of the door.

“Yes?” an older lady’s voice calls over the box.

“Aggie, I’ve got the new Mrs. King for ye. Care to open the door and let the lass inside?”

Within moments, the locks on the other side of the door jingle, and the door is opened, revealing a foyer fit for a palace. My eyes widen at the sight of all the marble with gold accents. A staircase stands proudly in the middle of the space, leading up to another level of the apartment. This entry takes me back to a time when I was a little girl and dreamed of being a princess living in a castle; only it’s more amazing than my dreams.

“Don’t be shy. Come on in.” The lady who I’m banking is Aggie, Darby’s wife, holds the door open for me.

She smiles as I pass her, and much like her husband, there’s a very friendly energy surrounding Aggie. The blue of her maid’s uniform enriches the color of her ocean-blue eyes while her gray hair sits in a low bun, showing off her round face.

Darby follows me inside, and Aggie quickly turns her attention from me to her husband. “He’s done well, hasn’t he, Darby? This one is a pretty one.”

A blush creeps over my cheeks as I listen to the woman dote on me.

Aggie closes the door, causing the bottom hem of her uniform to swish about a bit. “Now that we’re alone, we want you to know that Darby and myself know the truth about the situation at hand, so there’ll be no need in puttin’ on a show fur the likes of us.”

I raise my eyebrows, still not sure if I should break my cover just in case they really don’t know that Alexander and I didn’t really mean to get married.

“Don’t look so surprised, dear. There’s not much that Alex keeps from us. He gave us all the details. I still can’t believe that Henry put that silly clause in his will. I tried to explain that just because he was wild until he was thirty-two didn’t mean that our Alex would be the same. I wish Henry were here to see just how well his son has done with running the empire he built. He would’ve been so proud and that little clause would never have existed.” Aggie sighs. “It’s just a shame Alex still has to deal with all this.” She quickly backpedals. “Not that it’s anything to do with you personally, dear. I’m sure you’re a lovely young lady and we’ll be happy to have ye here until this mess is settled. I just wish he didn’t have to go through proving that he’s capable of running a business even though he makes a few mistakes.”

“The lad is only human,” Darby chimes in. “Can’t expect him to be perfect all the time.”

“He’s far from perfect.” My eyes widen the moment I realize that I’ve actually said what was running through my mind. Not wanting to offend two people who clearly care for Alexander, I try to correct my mistake. “Er—I mean . . .”