King

Table
of contents

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

Chapter
6

Chapter
7

Chapter
8

Chapter
9

Chapter
10

Chapter
11

Chapter
12

Chapter
13

Chapter
14

Chapter
15

Chapter
16

Chapter
17

Chapter
18

Chapter
19

Chapter
1

I
raised my glass and glanced at him briefly as he acknowledged my reluctant
thank you, nodding curtly as the slim brunette ran her hands affectionately
over the front of his crisp white shirt. He wasn’t gloating, at least it didn’t
look that way and neither of us smiled. If his face suggested anything, it was
more like pity. Part of me had wanted to take the large glass of chilled
Chardonnay and dump it over his head. Instead, I sat quietly and drank it like
a lady, gracious in defeat and enjoying the warmth that spread through me as it
made its way slowly into my stomach.

The
wine bar was heaving and I sat in the small booth alone, cordoning myself off
from the usual Friday night revelry as he held court at the bar, and I could
hear the laughter of the loyal staff that surrounded him and the girls who were
hoping he’d take them home tonight. Katie came over briefly to enquire about
the presentation as I sat slugging back the pale gold liquid and guessed
immediately that I hadn’t won the account. “Who got it?” she asked simply as I
tipped my head in the direction of the bar, not bothering to raise my eyes. She
watched him for a while, turning to look at me when she’d eventually had her
fill of the gorgeous vision that was dominating the space there, and from the
way she smiled, I assumed he was looking in our direction. He’d know we were
talking about him
which
irked me slightly, I didn’t
want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he bothered me at all.
“Shame, I thought our idea was awesome” she said eventually. So had I.

 
I really needed the Castle account, but as I’d
sat in the plush reception waiting for my turn to pitch, and CEO Brandon James
had personally seen him to the door, shaking his hand firmly before beckoning
me in, I knew that he’d already nailed it. The truth was
,
my pitch had been an exercise in futility, several people feigning a mild
degree of interest when they’d already made up their minds.

“You’ve
got to admit Charlotte, he is something else” she grinned as I rolled my eyes
at her. This was not a conversation I wanted to be having. I shook my head.
“He’s an arrogant prick” I said simply, trying to quell the anger that was
bubbling inside me. My dark mood didn’t seem to deter Katie, who looked across
at him again and began to giggle. “Arrogant prick or not, I definitely would”
she smiled “and I bet you would too” she grinned broadly, winking at me. “No
Katie, I most definitely would not” I said firmly, following her slack jawed
gaze to the edge of the booth. “What would you definitely not do Smith?” he
smiled, holding another glass of chilled Chardonnay in his outstretched hand. I
stood, ignoring the drink as Katie flushed, watching us intently. “I was just
telling Katie how I most definitely would not sleep with you King” I said
coolly, disarmed by his ensuing laugh as I picked up my bag and strode out into
the night.

The
cool night air was a welcome relief on my warm skin.
That
little run in had done nothing to improve my mood and I wondered how he would
have responded if I’d given him the chance.
It was out of character for
me to be rude, especially to a very well respected member of the same industry.
I could be begging him for a job one day, and at the rate I was failing to win
the big accounts lately, it might be sooner than I’d like. Why the hell did he
call me Smith? He didn’t call anyone else by their surname, but it was the only
way I’d ever heard him refer to me. He was under my skin tonight, a huge source
of irritation and the bane of my professional life. I hoped that King
considered a pet food commercial beneath him, because the last thing I needed
on Monday was to go head to head with him again.

The
tap on my shoulder startled me and I spun around to find him standing there,
larger than life, looking infuriatingly glorious, a small smirk playing at the
side of his mouth as he held out my coat. Our gazes locked for a few
uncomfortable seconds, the black pupils in his bright blue eyes, burning into
mine. I couldn’t even bring myself to thank him as I took the navy blazer and
threw it over my forearm. “You would Smith” he said grinning, all perfect white
teeth and soft full lips, and it took me a few moments to even process what he
was saying.
 
I threw him a puzzled frown,
prevented from responding with anything else as Katie bounded up beside him and
I was grateful for the intervention, until he wound his hand tightly around her
back as she looked up at me, smiling broadly.

 
She had to be kidding me. I looked at them
both and shook my head, turning on my heels before things could get any worse.
‘You would Smith’, the words played over and over in my brain. Arrogant
bastard, who the hell did he think he was? I loved Katie, but after what had
happened today, I was reeling that she was leaving the bar, probably to spend
the night having red hot sex with my nemesis, and it felt strangely disloyal.
He had probably done it on purpose just to piss me off. God I hated Jason King.

My
foul mood persisted into Saturday morning and I needed a run, to clear my
thoughts and purge my system of all the things that had kept me awake, tossing
and turning into the small hours, namely Castle vodka and Jason King. I had
spent endless days and sleepless nights working on that campaign, and it was
the latest in a long line I had recently lost to him.

The
park looked beautiful in the autumn
sunlight,
trees of
orange and brown bathed in the feint yellow glow as I ran across the overgrown
damp grass, enjoying the crispness of the early morning mist that enveloped me
like a cooling blanket. The air was fresh, the birds were singing brightly and
it was exactly the solitary escapism I needed to refocus and move on.

At
this hour the park was almost deserted, the odd dog walker and the silhouette
of another lone runner further in the distance. I looked again, it was hard to
tell from here, but the figure looked vaguely familiar. Thick black hair,
slightly long on top, giving it the mussed, just rolled out of bed look, jaw
shaded with a dark shadow of stubble and strong muscles flexing as he pounded
across the open space. Was there no escape? I watched him, running harder and
faster, hoping that if I cut across the park at this speed I would avoid having
to see him. He certainly hadn’t seen me yet, and I was keen to keep it that
way. “
Argh
” I cried out, stumbling over a thick piece
of bark I hadn’t seen, half buried in the long grass, and fell to the floor,
searing pain radiating from my ankle as I cursed under my breath, shorts
dampening on the dewy grass as I assessed the damage.

Tears
pricked at my eyes as the injured leg began to swell immediately and I grabbed
it instinctively, trying to rub against the pain. He had noticed now and was
running in this direction, and judging by the speed of his determined pace, I
would have no chance to extract myself from this particular situation. In
seconds he was hovering over me, surprise and genuine concern etched on his
face as I took a deep breath and tried to get to my feet. “Are you OK Smith?
That ankle looks pretty bad” he smiled, holding his arm out in an attempt to
help. I ignored the gesture. “I’ll be fine” I spat coldly, trying my best to
hobble in the opposite direction, gasping as he slid a muscular arm firmly
around my waist.

“Let
me help you. You need to elevate that quickly and get some ice on it, to stop
it getting any worse”. I nodded, despite feeling like the last thing I wanted
was a lesson in first aid from Jason bloody King. “I live just there” he
pointed to a beautiful five storey Victorian townhouse right at the edge of the
park.

 
I had always admired those homes, with their
classic cream facades offering an amount of space unusual for central London
and incredible views of the open green park. I’d often wondered on my long runs
who
was fortunate enough to be able to live in them.
Typically, it had to be the man I loathed. Some people in life seemed to have
absolutely everything going for them, and Jason King was undoubtedly one of
those people. “I’ve got ice, come with me” he smiled, tightening his grip as he
helped me along. “I’ll just go home” I said stubbornly, my ankle pulsing with
pain, the morning air and his firm touch, combining to send a shiver right
through me as he stopped, holding my shoulders as firmly as my gaze. “Stop
being obstinate Smith, you’re coming with me” he growled, leading me across the
park and slowly up the broad stone steps that led to his home.
 

He
helped me inside and sat me down on a beautifully soft, lemon coloured couch,
manoeuvring me gently into a laying position and elevating my leg over plush
cream cushions, smiling kindly before disappearing through a large door into
what I assumed was the kitchen. His home was beautiful and it was evident where
his money went, as I gazed around at the eclectic collection of furniture that
was as unusual as it was varied, and it fit the space perfectly. It wasn’t the
kind of home I envisaged Jason King living in. I had expected somewhere cold
and lacking warmth, a bit like the man himself. Sharp and devoid of
personality, with lots of metal and glass, a typical playboy bachelor pad, but
it couldn’t have been further from the magnificent room I was resting in now.