Page 83 of The Heir
"Come on, Izzy. Don't be like that."
My eyes narrow."Like what, Hendrix?Heaven forbid I don't act like a fucking prisoner, huh?" Looking out the window, my eyes widen at the expansive property we just entered."Holy shit,"I breathe. "Isthiswhere you grew up?"
We enter in through a stunning set of gates. As far as the eye can see, there are manicured lawns, ponds with wooden structures to walk to, and a guest house. The trees open up to expose a spectacularmansion like something you'd see in England. It's got climbing ivy, beautiful wrought-iron balconies that almost disappear under climbing roses. It's similar to our house, yet bigger, with an extra floor.
Wait.King'shouse, not mine. I'm not claiming anything of his. We pull onto the pea gravel and Dennis opens the door to show me five sets of eyes staring curiously at me. I pick out his father easily first, because he's a tall, broad six-foot three muscular man, with silver hair, slight beard, and is dressed in a pair of black slacks and a sensible cream long sleeved shirt with a sweater tied around his shoulders.
I hate to judge, but fight like hell to roll my eyes at the richness of it all. But it's when my gaze goes lower, locking eyes with a gorgeous older woman who must be his mom that I'm instantly sobered.
Oh.
I almost break my neck looking at King accusatorily. "You didn't tell me you were half Latino," I mutter at him under my breath, jerking my arm away as he tries to grab my elbow. Further annoyed, I slap his arm, however, he snags it anyway and pulls me against his side firmly.
"You never asked. Next time you should think about that before you go running off at the mouth calling people racist," King grits in my ear, causing a white-hot shiver to race up my spine.
"I never called you racist," I hiss back as we ascend the stairs.
"Yes you did, you little brat!" he responds back.
"Did not!"I retort, wiggling against him, knowing full well I did.
As we fuss at each other, making our way up the steps, my eyes roam fast to see what I'm working with.
My gaze locks in on a pretty, dark brown-haired woman who looks to be about early thirties, and is obviously his sister Teresa. She's standing there with a smile on her face, and a hand over another's on her round tummy. My eyes lower; she's dressed in a sensible capped sleeved polka dotted dress and mary janes. My eyes rise to the tall, statuesqueman standing protectively behind her. I have to catch myself before my jaw drops, becausefuckhe's gorgeous. The man gives me a wink and then rubs Teresa's belly.
It's sweet.
Standing to their left is a younger man around my age, slightly shorter than Teresa's husband. He's about six-foot two, and looks to be about mid-twenties. My mind goes back to King telling me about his family and I realize though he doesn't resemble King in the slightest, this is his brother Mason. He's got thick, wavy hair, a darker complexion, a face so perfect that his features are almost feminine, and a strong as hell brow and jaw line. He looks bored and has an obvious chip on his shoulder. So, he'll be the one I use to fuck with King.
Jerking away from King I walk right up to him, planting a fat smacking kiss on his lips.
Everyone gasps as Mason stiffens and jerks away, putting a hand to his mouth and giving me wide shocked eyes that quickly morph into a sly expression. I wink at him and he grins wickedly. "Sister," he says slowly, his eyes sliding to King. "How are you?" His voice matches his appearance; haughty and elegant like the smoothest, most expensive cognac.
"Hello,brother."I grin as I'm suddenly snagged down a couple steps and hauled against King's side. I wince at the tightness of the grip on my arm.
"Have you completely lost your fuckingmind?"he growls into my ear. His tone is angry, but I put my nose in the air and sniff delicately. "Can we get in the fucking house before you start up with the shit please?"
"What? You don't kiss people in your family hello? That'srude."I turn my face and give King a nasty once over that I can tell affects himvery much. His body tightens and a muscle ticks in my jaw. Pleased, I turn my face back to his family.
Everyone shifts a little nervously except Mason and King's father Richard, who has an amused grin on his face. He's got a hand on his wife Maribel's shoulder, regarding me quietly. I jerk from beside King and walk back up the two steps and hold my hand out.
"So pleased to meet you," I say.
His mother's grip is gentle, and her eyes are so kind it makes me almost want to not act like an asshole. "Isobel, what abeautifulname. We are so incredibly honored to meet you," she says in a soft, accented voice.
"Likewise," I nod, holding my hand out to the intimidating man who I affectionately dub King Sr.
"Welcome to the family, daughter," he says, and just like with Mason, his voice startles me. It's a deep, booming timber and scares me so bad that I take a hesitant step back, but I keep my composure. I've never had a father so maybe that was normal.
I clear my throat, but that's all I manage. Leaning over, I accept a kiss on the cheek from Teresa, but I see her spouse doesn't move to touch me.
"No kissing my man, please," Teresa teases, squeezing my hand and giving me a cheeky smile that I return, taking an instant liking to her. She's got balls, I can tell. Her voice is a soft lilt like her mother's, a departure from the three men's unique cadence.
I look over and see King giving Mason a nasty look who continues to stare at me with a curious expression on his face and I smile brightly, feeling a connection with him. He's obviously got a chip on his shoulder, and now, so do I. I hope we can raise hell together.
"Well let's not dally around outside all day, let's go in. The food will be getting cold." King's mother shoos us in the house and we movequickly. I get this feeling that though King Sr. is the head,she'sthe neck and runs the show.
My heart glows at that knowledge, because I just know it's true. It makes me feel just a smidgen better about this weird ass situation.
