Tomorrow: Kingsley series book 1 Read online

  It has been just under an hour since I left work, got home, and jumped in the shower. Since I always wear my hair up for work I decide to leave it down and take a few minutes to flat-iron it. I apply a very minimal amount of makeup—just some eyeliner, blush and a clear gloss. I am grateful for the fact that Jill dragged me to the spa with her the other day to be her guinea pig. She practically forced me to get every treatment available, including a full body wax, because it’s saving me a bunch of time right now. I wasn’t a very willing participant but now I feel like I should send her a thank you note. I can’t help but smile at the thought. I miss my best friend. She’s been so busy trying to get everything prepared for the big opening of her spa next week, and I have been busy with taking my boards and adjusting to my new job. Although we live together we hardly get to spend time with each other lately. I make a mental note to shoot her a text later. I slip into the dress and slide the gorgeous pumps on my feet and then appraise myself in my bedroom’s full-length mirror. It’s amazing what a stunning outfit can do for a woman. The dress hugs my slender body in all the right places, the neckline giving me just the right amount of cleavage, and the pumps do amazing things for my legs. I can’t remember ever feeling this beautiful before. In fact, growing up I have always felt like the ugly stepsister because my older sister Serena was always called the beautiful one. She was also great at sports and boys would line up around the block, hoping to catch her eye. My very first boyfriend, who I was absolutely crazy about, only approached me so that he could get closer to Serena. When I caught him trying to kiss her in our kitchen, it crushed me. Unfortunately, Ethan was just the first in a line of guys that destroyed my self-esteem. I have never fully recovered from that first betrayal and I’ve never stopped feeling like I am not enough. I give myself one last glance before I grab my purse and hurry out the door. Sean is once again already waiting with the door open.

  “Ms. Ray,” he greets me as I climb into the car.

  It takes about twenty minutes to get to the restaurant and I’ve spent sixteen of those minutes freaking out and trying to talk myself down. Yes, I feel beautiful in these clothes, and I am more than excited to spend the evening with him. But at the same time, I’m scared as hell. The man overwhelms me, swallows me whole. One look is enough to freeze time, one touch is enough to set me ablaze, one kiss has already proven to render me defenseless. The man pursues me like he wants to own me and it feels like there is nothing I can do to stop him. For the first time ever, I feel like I might be enough. For Christ’s sake, I’ve only just met him! The nerves are almost eating me up. When we pull up to the restaurant—a very fancy establishment called the ‘la Pluie Pourpre’—I take a deep breath and reach to open the door but Sean has beat me to it. He helps me exit the car gracefully and escorts me to the hostess stand. Sean just nods at the very attractive blonde hostess, who plasters an obviously fake smile on her face as she gives me a once-over. The vibe I am getting from this girl is downright hostile. For some weird reason, I’m not intimidated as much as I am amused.

  “Mr. Kingsley is expecting you,” she says, barely disguising the disdain in her voice. Sean raises his brow before he shakes his head and chuckles.

  “Ms. Ray,” he says, smiling kindly and flashing me a wink before he turns to leave.

  As I follow the hostess, who leads me through an elegant dining room, I scan the room for Mika but he’s nowhere in sight. We continue through some lovely French doors and come upon a stunning garden. I immediately notice thousands of little Christmas lights wrapped around the trunks and branches of each tree, outlining each one in a body of light. It looks magical. There is a path that leads to a very grand gazebo, the magnificent structure lined with deep red roses, adorned with exquisite silk purple drapes. And then I see him, standing next to the table which is set up so beautifully. I feel as though I walked onto a magazine cover but the man beside the table is stealing every ounce of attention that I have. Instead of admiring the gorgeous surroundings, my eyes are glued to Mika. His handsome face breaks into a huge grin as he watches me approach. He saunters toward me, his eyes lit up and looking at me in a way that literally steals my breath.

  “You look absolutely stunning, Raeva,” he breathes.

  “You don’t look half bad yourself,” I say as my eyes wander up and down his body.

  I cannot help but admire the way he fills out that three-piece suit. I don’t know much about suits but judging from how it looks as though it was cut just for him, it is a very expensive designer suit. And boy, does the man look glorious. Right now, in this moment, it’s just us and everything else falls away. Our eyes are locked onto each other’s and I happily drown in his gaze. We stand here for long minutes, lost in each other’s eyes, and I’m smiling so big my jaw hurts. It’s not until she clears her throat that either of us really notices that the hostess is still here.

  “Trevor will be your server tonight. He will be with you shortly,” she announces curtly. Mika barely acknowledges her when he responds.

  “Yes, thank you, Jamie,” he says politely, yet dismissively.

  I can’t deny the small pang of delight I feel when he brushes her off. She turns on her heel and disappears.

  “I’m so happy you came tonight, Raeva.”

  Mika has still not taken his eyes off me.

  “Would you like to sit?”

  He leads me to the table and pulls out my chair.

  "Please... sit."

  He steps back almost timidly yet his voice never loses that intoxicating sense of presence. He stands there looking at me, smiling his sweet smile, the offer seems to hover in the air somewhere between an invitation and a command. Steeling myself that I remain in control of me and inwardly knowing all the while that's not entirely true I graciously... sit. He sinks into the seat across from me as he continues to devour me with his eyes. I should feel uncomfortable but instead I relish his attention. He makes me feel desired and wanted, and those are feelings that I have never before experienced. Mika explains to me that la Pluie Pourpre is a European fusion restaurant and that they have a prix fixe menu, meaning they have a set menu that changes daily depending on what is in season and available. He must come here a lot because he guarantees that Chef Marcel’s cooking is some of the best food he’s ever had. Trevor, our server, arrives with a bottle of champagne.

  “I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of ordering us some champagne. After all, getting you to agree to come tonight is worth celebrating. But if that wasn’t enough of a reason, we should celebrate your new job,” he says as he flashes me a wink.

  Mika gestures for the server to pour our glasses. The poor guy seems a little nervous and to make things worse for him, he knocks the glass he just poured over when he turns to fill Mika’s. I immediately scoot back to avoid getting champagne all over my new dress. Trevor’s eyes widen in shock and he apologizes as he tries to clean up the mess. I flash him a comforting smile.

  “Oh please, don’t worry about it. Accidents happen,” I tell him as I assist him with the cleanup.

  Out of the corner of my eye I catch Mika observing me with a sexy as sin, crooked smile on his face. Thankfully we don’t have to replace the beautiful purple tablecloth since most of the champagne hit the floor and the glass didn’t break. We get the mess cleaned up quite quickly. Trevor leaves to retrieve a new glass after he apologizes once more. I note that although Trevor’s apology to me is sincere, he is mainly worried about Mika’s reaction. It strikes me as odd for a moment. And then it clicks.

  “You own this place.”

  It’s a statement, not a question, yet he still answers.

  “Indeed I do.”

  I guess that explains how he arranged this dinner on such short notice.

  “What?” I prompt, when I catch him staring at me.

  “You are very... different. I guess that I’m not used to women who are as sweet as you, who treat others with such kindness. There is something about you…the way that you put others a
t ease. I admire that…a lot.”

  I feel my cheeks heat up.

  “Wow…um…what kind of women do you usually date?” I say half-jokingly while the other half of me would really like to know.

  Mika reaches across the table and takes my hand in his before lifting it to his lips. He gently presses a kiss on the back before he answers.

  “I don’t date,” he states simply.

  A snort escapes my lips, causing Mika to raise his brow.

  “This is somehow funny to you?” he asks.

  “Yeah, well, excuse me if I am having a hard time picturing you as a monk.”

  He looks at me, face laced with amusement.

  “I hardly think I said anything like that, Sweet Pea. I am pretty sure I said that I don’t date, not that I have lived my life as a monk.”

  Of course he doesn’t, I tell myself. I can’t say that I’m not thrown off a little by his reply. I mean, what are we doing here then? This is not a date? I kind of feel like an idiot for even thinking this was a date in the first place. A man like Mika Kingsley wouldn’t be interested like that in a girl like me. I’m so embarrassed that I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’m not sure how to react to this, so I simply say, “Oh.”

  I feel his grip tighten around my hand.

  “I just never felt inclined to spend time with a woman outside of…bedroom activities.”

  I still cannot find the courage to look at him.

  “Until now, that is.”

  Now my eyes snap up to meet his. Did he just say what I think he said? I can’t keep track. This man is confusing me. I want him to elaborate on his statement but before he can—if he was even going to—we are interrupted by the return of Trevor with my new glass and our appetizers. Mika did not oversell the food. We start off with a mouthwatering beef carpaccio, followed by a delicious boneless lamb with mushroom crust and leek puree with miniature fingerling potatoes. To top it all off, we have the most incredible crème brulee I’ve ever tasted. We spend the meal talking about pretty much everything under the sun—except the one thing I really want to talk about—and I find that I really enjoy his company. I tell him about growing up in a small town with just my mom, my sister Serena, and my younger brother River. He tells me about the mischief he used to cause with Mikaela. It feels effortless. We joke and laugh like old friends and, despite the very obvious sexual tension between us, I feel very much at ease with him.

  “I’m so stuffed. I don’t think that I can move,” I groan.

  Mika chuckles at my statement.

  “I love the way you attacked your food with gusto,” he teases.

  “What? I like to eat, so what?” I say, not able to stop myself from grinning.

  “As tiny as you are, I wouldn’t have believed it, were it not for what I witnessed tonight. Dear lord Sweet Pea, that was downright scary,” he exclaims, looking at me in mock horror.

  I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at him.

  “You better put that thing away because I won’t be held responsible for my actions if you don’t,” Mika says darkly. “Unless you want me to throw you on this table and have my way with you.”

  Whoa…what? My mouth falls open. He wouldn’t. Would he? I should be put off by his words but instead I am extremely turned on. Mika slowly rises out of his seat and prowls toward me.

  “Maybe I want you to,” I say so quietly it sounds like a whisper.

  But there is no doubt that he heard every letter. Mika stops in his tracks for a moment, just as surprised by my words as I am, and then another one of those wicked grins spreads across his face, and I know that I’m in trouble—the good kind of trouble. He swiftly has me lifted out of my seat by my waist and facing him. He traces my bottom lip with his thumb.

  “You better be careful what you wish for, Sweet Pea,” he mutters.

  Oh my.

  “Kiss me, Raeva,” he demands.

  My eyes flicker to his mouth, his lips just inches away from me. Images of the sweet assault of those lips on mine flash through my head so vividly that I can almost feel his mouth on mine. I don’t like being told what to do one bit but desire surges and overrides any reluctance, any objection that I might have. Right now, in this moment, I am powerless to resist. And so…I oblige. My hungry mouth finds his without hesitation. I kiss him with all off the pent–up longing that has been brewing within me tonight. The kiss starts off sweet but grows fiery instantly as I become impatient with my need for him. I gently bite his lip before I trace his bottom lip with my tongue, coaching his own to come out and play. Our tongues intertwine and the groan that escapes his throat when I suck on his tongue is more than a turn on. When I absolutely need to come up for air I tear my mouth from his with great difficulty. Before I know it his mouth is on my neck, kissing, biting, and licking his way down to my shoulder.

  “You. Smell. So. Fucking. Good,” he bites out between kisses.

  Any inhibition that I should be feeling right now is failing to rear its head. I melt into him, putty in his hands. I can’t string any thoughts together, let alone a coherent sentence. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he breathes.

  He pulls me closer against him and I feel the evidence of his want press against me. A moan escapes my lips. I roll my hips so that I grind up against him, wanting—needing—him closer. This desire, this all-consuming craving, is such a foreign feeling to me. I can’t recall ever experiencing this kind of passion before. The loud sound of glass breaking effectively pulls us both out of the fog laced with desire and back into the here and now. Then everything starts to happen very fast.

  “What the fuck?” I hear Mika growl as he yanks me roughly behind him.

  I follow his hard stare I see a man taking our pictures, or maybe he’s recording, I don’t know. It is hard to make out any real features but the guy has brown hair, is very slender, and is very tall.

  “Hey, you are not supposed to be here buddy!”

  Trevor has reappeared and, I assume, assessed that the strange man isn’t a welcome guest. The man looks from Mika back to Trevor and then bolts.

  “Stop him!” Mika bellows.

  Trevor tries to stop the man in his tracks, but the guy is too fast and very agile. It is actually pretty impressive. Then out of nowhere, like a ninja, there is Sean coming from the path leading back into the restaurant. The man crashes into him and tries to push Sean out of the way. The man is light-footed but obviously, no match for Sean, who catches him by the collar and effectively yanks the guy off his feet and onto the ground. I watch Sean lower himself, pinning him to the floor as he presses his knee against the dude’s throat.

  “Phone,” Mika snaps.

  Sean immediately pries the guy’s phone out of his hand. Mika visibly relaxes in front of me. He turns to face me.

  “Are you okay Sweet Pea?”

  I can’t quite comprehend the correct way to respond to this so I simply nod. He puts his arms around me and pulls me into a hug. I secretly revel in the sensation of his arms around me, feeling as though he envelopes me just perfectly. My head is spinning, jumping from one emotion to the other, and truthfully it is exhausting. I went from being beyond turned on one moment, only to be bewildered and, frankly, terrified the next. I take a deep breath as I try to process what just occurred. I watch Sean and Trevor usher the intruder out of sight. Realization of the invasion of privacy washes over me and I feel myself stiffen. Mika must feel my reaction.

  “Please don’t,” Mika whispers, pulling me closer to him.

  “Don’t let what happened freak you out. Please, Raeva.”

  How can I possibly not be freaked out by this? Hell, I am not even sure what even happened.

  “Who was that guy, Mika? What did he want?”

  Mika sighs.

  “I don’t know who he is, or even what piece of crap gossip rag he works for, but I’m certain that he’s a pap. You know? A paparazzi.”

  I gently pry myself out of his embrace and take a step back so I can properly
face him. I certainly did not expect that answer. He must note the confusion in my expression because he continues to clarify.

  “It comes with the territory. I should have warned you. I should have been more careful. I am so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

  Mika shoves his hand through his hair, the expression plastered on his face is one of guilt and frustration.

  “See, this is why I don’t date,” he snaps.

  I am surprised at how wounded I feel by this statement. If what had just transpired hadn’t killed the evening, that last statement sure did the trick.

  “I think I’d like to go home now,” I tell him, not able to look him in the eye.

  “What? No! Please, that came out all wrong. I am not good at this. This is new to me. I meant that is why I wasn’t inclined to date before. Nobody felt worth the hassle.”

  I wonder if he realizes how ridiculous that sounds. He doesn’t even know me.

  “Oh please!” I snap, waving my hand up dismissively.

  “I am really not as gullible as you seem to think, I don’t know what kind of—”

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, his lips crash onto mine and his tongue demands its way into my mouth. He’s skillfully sucking and licking into me, conveying the earnestness of his feelings, where his words have failed to reach me. The revelation ignites a frenzy within me. Before I even realize what is happening my hands are fisting his luscious hair, pulling him closer to me. The passion between us is almost touchable, undeniable, and unrivaled. The man is worshipping me with his very talented mouth and fuck if the man doesn’t know how to effectively shut me up. It takes long minutes for my brain to catch up with what is happening and I make a snap decision when it does. With great difficulty, I push him off me. I take a moment to catch my breath. I look up and our eyes meet.

  “I’d like to go home now, please,” I breathe.

  I watch the look on his face fall. Mika opens his mouth to respond but I silence him by placing my index finger on his lips.