Page 35 of Vicious Kingdom

“They refuse to service you?” Baldwin demanded.

Surprised, I blinked up at him. My brain took his words a completely different way than he intended, and I had to bite back a dirty response he no doubt wouldn’t find funny.

“Yeah, but they’re just a bunch of jackasses,” I blurted out, realizing too late that I just threw them under the bus.

Leonard shook his head slowly, as if I were hopeless. “Move.”

His firm command startled me into immediate action, and I scrambled across the bench seat. It wasn’t like him to help. I half expected him to dump me on the grass. But there he was, climbing behind the wheel, filling the seat I’d just vacated. He pressed the gas hard. The cart shot forward. His presence seared me—and we weren’t even touching! He was actually sitting here, right next to me. My pulse raced. I clung to the metal armrest, bracing myself as we careened recklessly onto the paved path, whizzing past the green.

“Take a caddie next time,” he demanded, his voice cutting through the roar of the tires on asphalt. I rolled my eyes, but he caught the gesture. “I’m serious,” he snapped, never once slowing down.

“I’m fine, Baldwin,” I insisted, my voice barely above the noise of the wind.

“Clearly.” His sarcasm was biting as he nudged my ankle with the toe of his shoe. I winced, and my molars clenched tight as I struggled to hide the pain.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” I feigned confidence, even as the words sounded hollow in my own ears.

“Something already did,” he countered immediately, his tone leaving no room for argument.

If I focused hard enough on the words, it almost sounded like he cared.

The cart stopped in front of the service building where the caddies milled about, cleaning or fixing carts, prepping equipment, and organizing their schedules.

“You.” Baldwin pointed the end of his club at one of the men. “Ice pack. Now!”

The caddie tripped over his feet as he scrambled to obey.

“Tomorrow morning, I want you fighting over the privilege to escort this woman around the greens. You’re to be attentive, and if one hair on her head is out of place, you’ll have me to answer to. Understood?” he snapped.

The caddies standing around us nodded as one.

The king spoke, the commoners listened.

I debated slamming my club into his thick skull. “I said, I don’t want to be watched.”

His gaze thinned as he turned to me.

Garh! He was so angry! But then…he carried me. Drove me here. Tended my ankle! The man was a walking contradiction.

The icepack bearer arrived a moment later, breaking the tension. Leo snatched it from the red-faced man, cracked it three times, and then reached for me. His fingers were hard, his touch gentle. He plucked my foot, laying it along the length of the bench seat, before draping the freezing plastic container over the throbbing muscle.

I stared at his hands, those powerful, ruthless hands that could crush a man’s windpipe—now tenderly positioning an ice pack on my ankle. The gentleness made my heart flutter traitorously in my chest.

“You don’t need to do this,” I muttered, hating how breathless I sounded.

“Clearly I do, since you’re determined to injure yourself at every turn.” His voice was gruff, but his fingertips lingered against my skin a moment too long.

Something warm and dangerous unfurled in my stomach. I needed to get a grip. This man had made it abundantly clear he thought I was nothing but a nuisance, yet here I was, melting at his touch.

“I can take care of myself,” I insisted, even as I fought the urge to lean into his warmth. My body wasn’t sticking to the plan. It was going to take time to win him over. Slowly. Over the course of many chess moves.

“How’s your hand?” I changed the topic, brushing the tip of my finger over the bandage.

He snatched it away. “Do me a favor?” he rumbled.

That low, throaty sound made my heart patter. “Yes?”

“Stay out of trouble.” With that, he scooted from the bench seat.