Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Even worse, I’d thrown myself within their ranks.
Rowdy didn’t look at me once, but that didn’t stop me from watching him stalk past reception. He didn’t speak a word to anyone as he headed upstairs to shut himself in his office.
I’d just lost the battle against following him and making him tell me what was wrong when a shadow fell over my side of the desk.
“I guess the stars have finally aligned.”
Startled, I jerked my gaze away from the window and followed the voice that was deep like a chasm yet smooth like silk and richer than cashmere to see him.
The elusive fourth King.
The final lion of the pride.
Joren.
My first thought was that he wasn’t as tall as Rowdy. It was a weird comparison, considering it wouldn’t have mattered if the man before me was three feet tall or thirty. No one would ever have noticed anything beyond his looks.
To say that Joren Dorsey was handsome would be underselling it by a mile.
He was downright beautiful.
Arguably, the best looking of all of the Kings with his Adonis physique, deep dark skin, raven eyes, straight white teeth, deep dimples, bow-shaped lips, and bald head that I knew had once been covered by a silky grade of jet-black hair much like my own.
He was shorter, yes, but packed more muscle than Rowdy. The platinum Cuban link he wore rested against the white tank underneath the overalls. He stroked the full beard framing his lips and jaw as those shark-like eyes pinned me in place and waited for my response. Where Rowdy was sexy in that rough-around-the-edges way, Joren was a pretty boy through and through, and I could tell he knew it.
Each of the Kings had their weapons.
Rowdy’s was brute force, Roc’s was duplicity, and Golden’s was silence.
Seduction was Joren’s.
The evidence was there in his stance and his smile, in how he leaned forward to give me a whiff of his cologne and a peek at the muscles underneath his uniform. It was in how his smile would have been genuine if not for the arrogant tilt that kept it from reaching his eyes. And if that didn’t work, I bet he thought the bust down—the diamond-encrusted watch on his wrist—would dazzle me into submission.
Instantly, I was annoyed at yet another domineering male attempting to handle me, so I turned to face my fourth boss fully.
I wondered if his beauty was a lie, and he secretly hid scabs and boils underneath that beard he couldn’t stop stroking.
“So, I hear you’re our new receptionist.”
“Yup.” I moved across the small space created by the U-shaped desk until I was standing directly in front of him. I couldn’t have him thinking I was intimidated by his attention. “Is that a problem?”
Joren dropped the act and was squinting now as he attempted to read me. I couldn’t decide if he was baffled by my immunity or just feeling plain ole sore about it. “Only if you make it one.”
I guess Roc and Golden had put the word out to keep an eye on me. Clearly, I was not cut out for a career in espionage.
“Well, then. Glad that’s settled. Consider me thoroughly threatened.” I flashed him a saccharine smile before giving him my black ass to kiss. “It was nice meeting you, boss.”
The phone rang before Joren had the chance to realize that a low-level employee had dismissed him, so I quickly answered it. I could still feel him lurking, though—watching and assessing…probably wanting to strangle me.
Eventually, he fucked off, and I focused on the screaming customer in my ear.
I’d successfully pushed Joren from my mind by the time Tuesday returned from lunch. He’d gotten under my skin way too easily, and no amount of pondering could unearth the reason why. Rowdy had, too, just not nearly in the same way. I’d come way too close to letting him degrade me behind a dumpster our first meeting.
Joren, I’d just wanted to stab in the eye.
“How did it go?” Tuesday eagerly asked as soon as I was done booking the customer’s appointment. “Not too bad, right?”
“No, it was fine.” I quickly filled her in on the car washing situation—since I never did get an answer from Rowdy—before the phone rang, and Tuesday snatched it up as if her life depended on it.
“Pride of Kings Mechanics, how may I—Oh, hey, boss.”
My stomach dipped. It was weird, right? I had four bosses. Technically, five if I counted Hudson, whose role as General Manager consisted mostly of being the Kings’ sounding board—and conscience on occasion. It could have been any one of them on the other end of the line, but somehow, I knew it was him.
“Sure,” Tuesday agreed, chipper as ever. “Do you want your usual? Okay, I’ll go right now. Oh…No, she’s still here. Yeah, I’ll let her know. Okay. Bye.”