King of Pride (Kings of Sin #2) by Ana Huang

The realization was enough to snap me out of my trance.

What was I doing? This was Kai, for Christ’s sake. He was one hundred (okay, ninety) percent not my type and two hundred percent off-limits.

I wasn’t going to make the same mistake as my predecessor, who’d gotten fired after my supervisor caught her giving a club member a blow job. She’d been reckless, and now she was blacklisted from working at every bar within a forty-mile radius. Valhalla took its rules—and consequences—seriously.

Plus…

Remember what happened the last time you got involved with someone who was off-limits?

My stomach lurched, and the fog finally receded enough for me to break free from his embrace. Despite the heater humming in the background, stepping out of Kai’s arms was like leaving a cozy, fire-lit cabin to traverse the mountains in the dead of winter.

Goose bumps scattered over my arms, but I played it off with a casual lilt. “Are you stalking me?”

Running into him here once could’ve been coincidence, but twice was suspicious. Especially on consecutive nights.

I expected him to brush me off with his usual dry amusement. Instead, the tiniest hint of pink colored his cheekbones.

“We discussed this last time. I’m a member of the club, and I’m simply availing myself of its amenities,” he said, the words stilted and formal.

“You’ve never used the piano room before this week.”

A faint lift of his brow. “How do you know?”

Instinct. If Kai made regular appearances here, I’d feel it. He altered the shape of every space he entered.

“Just a hunch,” I said. “But I’m glad you’re coming more often. You could use the practice.” I tamped down a smile at the way his eyes sparked. “Maybe one day, you’ll catch up to me.”

To my disappointment, he didn’t take the bait.

“One can only hope. Of course…” The earlier spark turned thoughtful. Assessing. “Last night could’ve been a fluke. You talk a big game, but can you duplicate the same level of performance?”

Now he was the one dangling the bait, his words gleaming like a minnow hooked to a jig head.

I shouldn’t fall for it. I had to get more words in—I was woefully behind on my daily word count goal of three thousand words—and I’d only snuck in here after my shift because I’d hoped it would jump-start my creativity. I didn’t have time to indulge in Kai’s veiled challenges.

The practical side of me insisted I return home that minute to write; another, more convincing side glowed with pride. Kai wouldn’t have challenged me if he weren’t rattled, and there were so few things I was truly talented at that I couldn’t resist the urge to show off. Just a little.

I released a confident smile. “Let’s put it to the test, shall we? Your choice.”

The weight of his gaze followed me to the bench. I opened the fallboard and tried to focus on the smooth, familiar keys instead of the man behind me.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked.

“ ‘Winter Wind.’ ” Kai’s presence brushed my back. A shiver of pleasure, followed by the slow drip of warmth down my spine. “Chopin.”

It was one of the composer’s most difficult études, but it was doable.

I glanced at Kai, who leaned against the side of the piano and assessed me with the detached interest of a professor grading a student. Moonlight spilled over his relaxed form, sculpting his cheekbones with silver and etching shadows beneath those inscrutable eyes.

The air turned hazy with anticipation.

I sank into it, wrenching my gaze back to the piano, closing my eyes, and letting the electric currents carry me through the piece. I didn’t play Chopin often, so it started rusty, but just as I hit my stride, a soft rustle interrupted my focus.

My eyes flew open. Kai had moved from his previous spot. He was now seated on the bench, his body scant inches from mine.

I hit the wrong key. The discordant note jarred my bones, and though I quickly corrected myself, I couldn’t lose myself in the music anymore. I was too busy drowning in awareness, in the scent of the woods after a rainstorm and the way Kai’s gaze burned a hole in my cheek.

Yesterday, I’d played like no one was watching. Today, I played like the whole world was watching, except it wasn’t the whole world. It was one man.

I finished the étude, frustration chafing beneath my skin. Kai watched me without a word, his expression unreadable save for a tiny pinch between his brows.

“You distracted me,” I said before he could state the obvious.

The pinch loosened, revealing a glimmer of amusement. “How so?”

“You know how.”

The amusement deepened. “I was merely sitting. I didn’t say or do a single thing.”

“You’re sitting too close.” I cast a pointed glance at the sliver of black leather seating between us. “It’s an obvious intimidation tactic.”

“Ah, yes. The secret art of sitting too closely. I should contact the CIA and inform them of this groundbreaking tactic.”

“Ha ha,” I grumbled, my ego too bruised to make way for humor. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be instead of bothering an innocent bystander?”

“I have many other places to be.” A brief light illuminated the shadows in his eyes. “But I chose to be here.”