Buying the Underworld's Phantom King

"Okay, okay… I'll kiss it better." Clutching my wildly beating heart, I fumbled for the first-aid kit and knelt before him.

"Hold still. This might sting."

I dipped a cotton swab in antiseptic, carefully cleaning the grime from the long-healed scars on his torso. After each wipe, I lowered my head and gently blew a cool breath over the spot.

The warm, moist air on his skin sent a tremor through his entire body.

I was completely absorbed in my task, utterly oblivious to the heat of his gaze intensifying from above.

Ronan felt no pain. Only a tingling, electric current that spread from every point of my touch. He devoured me with his eyes.

He watched the delicate flutter of my lashes as I worked, the way my lips pursed in concentration, the vulnerable, pale skin of my nape.

It was a ravenous look, the look of a predator about to devour his prize.

"Lift your arm," I commanded, still blissfully unaware.

Ronan obediently raised his arm. To get to the scars on his back, I had to lean in, my body almost flush against his chest.

"Don't move, the gauze is tangled," I muttered, trying to work out a knot.

Just then, Ronan’s knee shifted—accidentally, of course. I lost my balance and pitched forward.

"Oof!"

I fell into his rock-hard, searing chest. The next second, a powerful hand clamped around my waist.

My world tilted.

The man who was supposed to be my subdued prize grabbed me with one hand, and with a single, fluid motion, flipped me onto my back, pinning me firmly to the soft carpet.

The zip ties were gone. Or perhaps, they had never been a constraint to begin with.

He loomed over me, his dark eyes a vortex threatening to pull my very soul into their depths.

"You've got some nerve, Blair," he said suddenly, his voice a low, husky growl.

The large hand that had just been bound was now caressing my waist, his rough fingertips an abrasive whisper against the fabric of my dress.

The sudden reversal sent my head reeling. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I refused to show fear. "Know your place, Ronan," I managed, forcing a steady voice. "I'm the one who bought you—mmph!"

"Is that so?" he chuckled, his knee pressing insolently between my legs. The searing heat of his body burned through the thin fabric, sending a jolt through me.

"Weren't you the one who just threw yourself at me, Boss? But…" His tone shifted, his gaze lazily sweeping over my pinned hands before finally landing on my lips.

"Since you're so eager, it seems only right that I be on top. All the better to serve my boss."

The air crackled. We were inches apart, our breaths mingling.

His gaze slid from my eyes, down to my lips, then lingered on my neck and collarbone.

It was too hot, that look. It melted my bones.

My mind raced. What is he going to do? Kiss me? Or maybe…

I should have pushed him away. Sixty million or not, he was a dangerous stranger. And yet…

That intoxicating scent of tobacco and leather was a potent narcotic, stripping away my will to resist.

A treacherous part of me was secretly anticipating him closing the distance.

Ronan slowly lowered his head. I instinctively closed my eyes, my lashes fluttering, but the kiss I expected never landed.

Instead, he buried his face in the crook of my neck, taking a deep, greedy breath. His hot breath ghosted across my skin, raising goosebumps.

"Blair…" he whispered, his voice thick with a decade of longing and suppressed desire.

"You smell so good…"

The dominant, yet strangely comforting scent filled my senses. I was on the verge of surrendering completely when a profound heaviness descended on my eyelids.

Years of corporate warfare and family power struggles had left me with crippling insomnia. It had been an eternity since I'd felt a natural wave of sleepiness without pills.

And yet here, in the arms of this dangerous man, I felt an unprecedented sense of security. Like a ship, long adrift, finally finding its harbor.

"You can only… hold me for a little while…" I mumbled, my push against his chest growing weaker. "If you try anything… I'll throw you out…"

The next second, I was sound asleep. Ronan, his head still buried in my neck, went completely still.

He listened to the soft, even rhythm of my breathing and was utterly dumbfounded.

She... fell asleep? Now? In the arms of a man who was seconds away from taking her?

She had actually passed out, using him as a human sedative.

"Ha," he huffed, a helpless laugh escaping him as he looked at the defenseless woman sleeping beneath him.

"You really don't see me as a threat at all."

With a sigh of wry defeat, he propped himself up to head for a cold shower, but the instant he shifted, the sleeping woman's arms snaked around his waist, locking him in place.