King of Me

  KING (of) ME

  The KING Trilogy

  Book Three

  Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  Mimi Boutique Imprint

  Copyright © 2014 by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks are not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  ISBN-10:0990304825

  ISBN-13:978-0-9903048-2-1

  Cover Design: EarthlyCharms.com

  Editing: Latoya Smith, Tessa Shapcott, and Pauline Nolet

  Formatting: WriteIntoPrint.com

  Just remember, mean people suck and ebook piracy is NOT a victimless crime. Just ask us working-writer moms! Please buy our books, don’t steal them or share illegally (or be a sucky mean person). This author does not authorize ANY of those shady “free-ebook-downloads” sites or share sites to distribute her books. Ever. And for those who legally purchased/borrowed/obtained the ebook from a reputable retailer, muchas thank yous! You rock.

  What Are Reviewers Saying About King?

  5 STARS. “King's is everything it promised to be and more. It's dark, mysterious and gritty with a touch of sensual and a dash of snarky humor…” - tjlovestoread.wordpress.com

  5 STARS for King’s. “I can honestly say I was so charmed by this book I didn’t put it down once for 4.5 hours straight.” - SmartmouthSmut.com

  KING’S. “I give this book 11 on a scale of one to 10. This book catches you right from the beginning and does not let go."- bookwormsanonymousmyfavoritethings.blogspot.com

  5 STARS. “Just when I thought I had seen it all in King’s, Pamfiloff ups the ante in King for a Day.” - bookchickwithkick.com

  5 STARS for KING FOR A DAY! "The writing was so suspenseful and well done that I couldn't put it down…" - guiltypleasuresbookreviews.com

  “Heart-racing, mind-jumbling, infuriatingly-beautiful, steaming-hot and where-the-hell-is-the-next-one! That's exactly how King's made me feel and ultimately left me." - thebookbell.wordpress.com

  "Ok so can I just say HOLYSH**BALLS BATMAN!!!!!!!!!! I did not even see this coming I really thought I might know who KING was but I was nowhere near close." -bookwormsanonymousmyfavoritethings.blogspot.com

  “I’m going to take a soak in my tub. Care to join me?” he asked.

  I blinked. It wasn’t a tub, but a round, large sunken pool with tiles made of the same deep blues as the Aegean Sea and smack in the center of his room like some ancient Grecian spa. I’d literally dreamed about bathing with him in it a million times—our bodies wet and steaming as I rode his muscled frame and devoured his sensual lips with my mouth.

  King lifted one dark, silky brow. “My, my, Miss Turner. You do have quite the dirty mind. I hope to sample the fruits of its labor before my time is up. Perhaps tonight?”

  I shook my head, feeling ashamed. My imagination was out of control. “No.”

  “Such a shame, as I think we both might enjoy it.” King shrugged and began walking toward the house, dissolving into thin air right before my eyes. “I hope you like the dress, Mia.”

  “I didn’t agree to go with you.”

  “Do not be late,” his disembodied voice called out. “It displeases me.”

  Pompous jerk. I hung my head and covered my face before blowing out a slow breath. I tried not to be excited about tonight, but I was. I tried not to hate myself for it, but I did.

  Contents

  Other Works By Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CHECK OUT OTHER MIMI JEAN TITLES

  ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE WITH…A GOD? excerpt

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Other Works By Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  FATE BOOK (a New Adult Novel)

  HAPPY PANTS CAFÉ (a Contemporary Romance Series)

  KING’S (Book 1, The King Trilogy)

  KING FOR A DAY (Book 2, The King Trilogy)

  THE ACCIDENTALLY YOURS SERIES

  Accidentally in Love with…a God?

  Accidentally Married to…a Vampire?

  Sun God Seeks…Surrogate?

  Accidentally…Evil? (a Novella)

  Vampires Need Not…Apply?

  Accidentally…Cimil? (a Novella)

  Accidentally…Over? (Series Finale)

  COMING DECEMBER 2014

  FATE BOOK TWO (a New Adult Novel)

  COMING 2015

  IMMORTAL MATCHMAKERS, INC.

  MERMEN (Book 1, The Mermen Series)

  MERMADMEN (Book 2, The Mermen Series)

  SKINNY PANTS (Book 2, The Happy Pants Café Series)

  DEDICATION

  I’m going for cheesy and dedicating this book to two people I’ve never met: the women who inspired my love of wicked, sexy, tormented, bad boys. Anne Rice, thank you for getting me hooked on vampires at a very young age and for writing some of the best anti-heroes ever. Paranormal Romance would not be what it is today without you. Charlaine Harris, thank you for reintroducing me to Paranormal Romance twenty-five years later. Without you, I wouldn’t have woken up and learned to love books again.

  KING

  (of)

  ME

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sex with a ghost. Sex with a ghost. Am I really going to do this? I stared into my champagne glass, my hand trembling as I focused—tried to focus, anyway—on the delicate bubbles fizzing to the surface. It was all I could do to keep from getting up and running from the nearly empty restaurant or stealing yet another look at my date. His unsettling, raw masculinity nearly undid me every time, despite knowing that his exterior was a façade.

  How did I get myself into this?

  “Miss Turner,” he said in that deep, dark, disapproving tone, “look at me.”

  I knew I had to face this situation head-on, so to speak. There would be no running away.

  You can handle it. Hell, I’d endured a heck of a lot worse these past few months—physical threats, being kidnapped, watching my brother get murdered; however, my mental armor wore thin.

  Doesn’t matter. You’re in the home stretch now.

  I finally willed myself to gaze across the table at the imposing, exquisite, and dangerous man, his sleek muscular body draped in an expensive tux.

  Stunning.

  I listened to my heart beat exactly three times and then sucked in a shallow breath, willing my heart to continue pumping.

  The way the candlelight danced over his finely sculpted cheekbones, chiseled jaw, and sensual lips mesmerized me. I couldn’t help it. Then there were those dark lashes and his thick, w avy black hair that fell just behind his ears, and…Well, let’s just say his appearance made it easy to forget who he was: an ancient, dead king cursed to roam the earth for eternity. His modern camouflage wasn’t simply exquisite; it was flawless.

  Sweat began to trickle down my spine beneath my little black dress, forcing me to shift in my seat. Breathe, Mia. Breathe.

  “Stop the incessant fidgeting, Miss Turner, and tell me how you like the champagne.” He stared unblinkingly at me with his icy gray eyes.

  Trying to project an air of calmness, I casually brushed my crazy blonde waves from my face and picked up my menu, finding sanctuary from my thoughts on page two. “Um. The champagne is good. I like it.”

  Idiot. Even I, with my whiskey palate, knew this was a five-hundred-dollar bottle of fermented grape juice fit for the gods.

  Or a king.

  Able to hear my thoughts, he smirked, and two tiny but deep dimples puckered in his stubble-covered cheeks. “Do you know what you’d like to order?”

  “Not really.” I didn’t normally eat this sort of stuff—quail egg sushi rolls with a ginger plum reduction, or wild sea bass with a lilac honey glaze. It sounded pretty good, but for one hundred dollars a plate, I didn’t feel right rolling the dice on my menu selection.

  You’re going to have sex with King tonight, and you’re worried about what to order?

  “That is exactly right, Miss Turner.” He pinned me with his cool eyes. “Ordering the wrong dish isn’t the end of the world. Sex on the other hand…” He scratched his unshaven chin. “I expect my order to be perfect. Or there will be consequences.” He flashed a wicked little grin.

  Dammit.

  “Stay out of my head,” I said.

  “Let us cut the crap, Miss Turner. I can hear you. I can either pretend not to, or we may both simply acknowledge that this is a fact. If I pretend, however, I will not be gaining any…” he reached for the words, “yards. Yes—yards with you.”

  “So we’re playing football now?” I supposed the sports metaphor felt appropriate. He wanted to win and would mow down anyone who got in his way. Right now, he needed to win me. All of me. Why? I’d get to that in a moment.

  “No. Our game is far more serious than that.” He dipped his head a notch and gazed hungrily across the candlelit table, pushing my body temperature up ten more degrees despite my effort to ignore the hold he had over me.

  “The game of life,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Greater than that.”

  What could be bigger than life? I wondered.

  “The eternity of death,” he replied to my thoughts with a curtness that needed no explanation. He was, after all, dead and had been for over three thousand years, searching for an escape from the cruel, horrifyingly painful curse cast upon him by his unfaithful wife, Hagne. Hagne had been a Seer of Light like myself with the ability to see people’s energy. Sometimes I saw imprints left behind by objects, too. Obviously, I suspected Seers were capable of much, much more—case in point: Hagne’s curse—but I’d never know. I was the last Seer. Which was why King had an interest in me far beyond anything casual. And if I were to be honest with myself, a part of me, the part that lived in the darkest recesses of my mind, wanted him back.

  “Do you plan to answer me this evening, Miss Turner?” King asked.

  I pushed my mind away from any thoughts of sex and tried to focus on the conversation. “H-h-honesty. What else? If you can’t stop hearing my thoughts, there’s no point in pretending.”

  He smiled in that sexy, sinful sort of way that could melt a woman’s panties off her body—like it or not. Yeah, he was powerful.

  “I meant, what dish will you be ordering? I already knew you would choose honesty. You’re not one to advocate lying.”

  He was right about that. I couldn’t tolerate dishonesty. Which was why I struggled with what was to come after dinner. Why did he insist on making sex part of our new “deal”?

  King leaned in. “Mia, how many times must I explain this? The Artifact will allow me to bring back one life, just one. Do you want your brother returned to you or not?”

  I looked toward the panoramic view of San Francisco, the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge off in the distance. “You know I do.”

  Long story short, Justin had been murdered. And while some might argue whether he’d deserved to die, at the end of the day, he was family. My family. And returning Justin to my parents was the only way to make my family whole again. But to bring him back, I needed to break King’s curse. To break his curse, we had to get a hold of the Artifact—a rock that King’s ex-wife had used to bind his curse. To break the bond between King and the Artifact, a Seer had to undo it.

  That’s where this all got weird. Utterly and truly weird. According to him, the bond could only be broken with love.

  Yeah, pretty damned strange. Definitely complicated.

  However, I’d spent a lot of time thinking this one over. If Hagne used hate to create his situation, then it only made sense that the opposite energy would undo it. Sort of like an antidote.

  Now, how breaking King’s curse would translate into a dead person—any dead person—returning to life? That was where things became even stranger. He claimed that once his curse was broken, the Artifact would allow one life to be brought back as a sort of “do over.” King had obviously planned for his life to be the lucky one, but he’d made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. In exchange for ending his torment, he would allow my brother to return in his place. This meant that King would cease to exist, but in the end, we’d all get something we wanted. The only trick now was getting a hold of the elusive Artifact. And…I sighed, I have to find a way to open my heart to him in order to deliver “the antidote.”

  Easier said than done.

  “Not difficult at all,” King said. “You must simply put your youthful, spirited mind to it.”

  I made a little huff. I may only be twenty-six—a baby in his eyes—but I know hearts don’t follow the mind; it’s the other way around.

  He tisked in disagreement. “There, you see. A sign of your youthful naivety; your mind is far more powerful than you give it credit.”

  “My mind is busy trying to accept that either way I’m screwed.”

  “I should hope so, Miss Turner.” He cocked one dark, silky brow. “After all, is that not why you are here with me tonight? For the screwing?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. Funny. “You know what I meant, King. You’ve backed me into a no-win situation.”

  “How so?”

  He knew the answer. He was too smart not to. But he wanted to hear me say it. He liked watching me squirm.

  “If I successfully find a way to…” I swallowed, “love you, then your curse will end and you’ll…”

  “Cease to exist?”

  I nodded. Yes, I’ll get to enjoy the heartbreak of caring about someone and losing him.

  “Ah. But you will get your brother back in my place.”

  “Yes.” But if I don’t break your curse, I lose Justin. There was no right in this equation. There was no easy out or perfect ending. A Greek tragedy in the making.

  “I cannot argue,” he said casually, seemingly uninterested in my heart-wrenching dilemma. “It is quite the predicament.”

  I looked at him and forced myself not to react to his indifference or to his exquisite masculine shell that made my body want and need things it shouldn’t.

  “I have a question,” I said. “Are you just using this as an excuse to sleep with me?”

  “Perhaps.” His voice dropped an octave. “But if you are to love me, then we must become acquainted. And I assure you, the gift of…” he paused, “fucking is one of my finer qualities. I fear, perhaps, my only fine quality. Why not begin with our best attributes forward?”

  “Stop. We both know you’re exaggerating,” I argued. “And before you go there, I’m not talking about the sex.” I was, however, talking about his “finer qualities.” I’d learned that King was spor adically capable of incredible compassion. A leftover from his pre-curse days, I supposed. What I would’ve given to know that version of him—King with a heart. This King was ruled by his obsession with the Artifact. He’d lied, manipulated, and bullied me into doing things just to get closer to it, which is why the man couldn’t be trusted when it came to that damned rock.

  Yes, I planned to play this out very carefully.

  “I am worse than you could ever imagine,” he said. “You will see for yourself soon enough.” He looked toward the doorway where the waiter stood at attention. It was eerie to see the five-star restaurant overlooking the city empty. Like we’d shown up too early. In reality, it was ten o’clock at night, and King had reserved the entire place just for us.

  “Yes, sir. What may I bring you?” asked the waiter.

  King handed him the menu. “I’ll have the steak Diane. Rare. She’ll have the same.”

  “Very good, sir.” The man scurried away.

  Steak? I was leaning toward a salad, something that won’t make my stomach bulge out while we’re—I swallowed—having sex.

  King chuckled at my thoughts. “You’re beautiful, Mia. And I am looking forward to showing you how much I mean that.” He sipped his champagne. “By the way, the steak will help you keep up your strength. I am ravenous in the bedroom.”

  My spit stuck in my throat as I pictured the two of us, our naked bodies writhing together on the large bed of whatever luxury penthouse suite he’d procured for the night. King was beyond gorgeous. He was every woman’s sexual fantasy—large, hard, and lean—but on the other side of the coin, sleeping with a ghost. A dead man—

  “Enough.” King slammed his fist on the table.

  I jumped in my seat. “I can’t help how I feel.”

  “You’ve touched me before. You’ve wrapped your hand around my cock. You didn’t seem to notice any difference then, so stop behaving like—”