Page 34 of Vicious Kingdom

My mother’s words, not mine.

I could have been a great gymnast, throwing myself over the equipment and gracefully taking gold. But things that requiredinanimate objects like volleyball, tennis, and golf? I gave the Three Stooges a run for their money.

“A likely story,” Leo snarled. “You overheard my conversation the other night, and here you are with another lie on your lips.”

I sighed dramatically. What he didn’t know was that this was one place I didn’t have to stage a run-in. I had been here every day. When I overheard them, because I did, I didn’t have to adjust my plan or do anything out of the ordinary.

“Believe what you want then, but stop thinking about my lips,” I snapped, struggling to my feet.

The moment I put weight on the ankle, the tendons and muscles screamed in protest. I shuffled to the ball, hiding the limp in the shifting soil. But after plucking the ball, I had to walk on the turf.

Not while he watched.

So I stopped and gave him a stormy look. “If I annoy you so much, why are you still down here, talking to me? Go finish your game, Baldwin.”

He held my gaze for another terrible heartbeat before pointedly dropping to my ankle. “How bad?”

My heart did a teeny-tiny patter. “It’s not,” I said flippantly.

“Mhmm, then come pick up your club.” He pointed to where the stick lay after it nearly beheaded him.

Clenching my jaw tight, I forced my steps to resemble something akin to normalcy. Each movement was agony. A sweat broke over my face, and my breaths were raw bursts. Somehow, I managed five feet before I stopped.

“See, I’m fine,” I said through my teeth.

Snarling something vicious under his breath, Leo bent, collected my club, and then straightened to advance on me.

“Hey, what are you—Wait—” I squealed.

But the next second, I was in Leo’s strong arms. I braced my hands on his shoulders and chest as he began to climb the slope.The muscles rippled from the exertion, but he held me tightly. That same, blinding electricity crackled, burning my touch with the sweetest invitation.

Lord….He smelled so good. Spicy and sharp, with a healthy dose of masculinity. I focused on his throat, watching it move with each breath, and not daring to look up to see the hard cut lines of his jaw…or worse, his eyes.

“Where’s your caddie?” he growled when we reached my cart.

“Don’t have one.”

His grip on me seemed to tighten. “So no one to corroborate that you weren’t here just to spy on me?”

“Don’t give yourself airs.” I pushed against him, even though I wanted more than anything to stay in his arms. He let me down, but didn’t drop his grip. Not yet.

Leo squatted, his touch grazing down the length of my thighs. His hand was bandaged, but it moved with a surprising fluidity given that it’d been crucified with a nail just a few days ago.

Ever so gently, Leo brushed the tip of his fingers over my already swelling ankle. “This needs ice.”

My heart shuddered.

He lingered there for a moment, bent and tender. But when he rose, the mask of cruelty was back in place.

I steeled myself against his stare. “Look, if you must know, I’m terrible at golf. The caddies draw lots to chaperone me around, because I’m such a handful. So I don’t use them.”

Which was completely fine with me. I didn’t want anyone to watch me struggle at a leisurely sport I would never be good at. It was embarrassing enough to be the laughing stock of the caddies, I didn’t need them constantly reminding me how bad I was.

Leo shadowed me as I climbed into the cart. His hands flexed and fisted at his sides. I contemplated offering him a towel to wipe them on, if he really detested touching me so much.

I won’t let that get to me.

He’d carried me out of the sand trap for crissakes.