Read Online King for a Day by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff - Free Book Online

why four hours?” That was a huge chunk of time, and it was already ten p.m.
    “Miranda lives in Los Angeles. And I know she won’t do deals over the phone. Most members won’t.”
    I suppose it made sense given that phones could be tapped.
    “What am I searching for?” I asked.
    “It’s a vial of blood that says ‘Cleopatra’ on it.”
    “As in…?”
    “Yes, the Queen of Egypt.”
    I lifted my brows. Best not to ask.
    “And the poisons?” I still couldn’t believe I was going to do this.
    Mack scratched his chin. “I’m not sure.”
    “I found King’s catalog; I’ll look through there.”
    Mack’s eyes glanced at the thick book on the coffee table. “Excellent. It’s our lucky day, then. Maybe you can find the magic-hand spell and a way to kill Vaughn?”
    I made a sour face, trying to hide the actual horror I felt over being in a situation worse than any nightmare I had ever imagined. “Sure.”
    Mack offered me a consoling smile. “Not too late to change your mind, Mia.”
    I shook my head. “I’m not throwing in the towel.”
    He took a deep breath, winced, and then barked out several curses. He sure as hell didn’t look okay to me, but he had no intention of staying put. “Well, I’m off to L.A. to find a hand.”
    So disgusting . “Good luck.”
    He nodded and disappeared down the stairs.

CHAPTER FIVE
    11:15 P.M.
    After Mack left for L.A., I found myself standing in the middle of King’s chamber all alone with nothing but my thoughts. I knew I should be focusing on finding the serum, but my eyes kept gravitating toward the book I’d left sitting on the armchair. I couldn’t help but think it was what King really wanted me to find.
    And the ring .
    Again I glanced at the diamond on my finger. Okay. Obviously, it was no ordinary piece of jewelry. Rings didn’t simply hop on your finger like that. Hmmm. Actually, now that I thought it over, I was able to see King’s place after I’d put it on. Yeah, but so was Mack.
    Okay. I had no clue what the ring did. But what I knew for certain was that it was not intended as a romantic gesture. Didn’t matter what Mack said regarding King’s marking me as his “special someone,” because it made absolutely no sense. If I were King, able to select only one woman to give his weird 10 Club immunity to, I would pick someone who wanted me back.
    Okay, yes. Some tiny, dark part of my soul desired the man. He exuded an addictive, potent virility. His body was a tribute to all things wholly masculine and sensual, right down to his hard, round, beautiful ass. I’d seen it once along with his other unforgettable unmentionable during one of our “almost encounters.” But the part of me that desired him was not the sane part or the part in control. It was, however, the part I would fight tooth and nail to ignore. Even more so now that I understood King considered my entire body, even the private parts, his.
    “I’m not yours, King. And you shouldn’t have wasted your one precious brand on me.” My head immediately started to spin, and I doubled over, feeling like I might vomit. In the back of my head, I heard King screaming at me, telling me to open my eyes, to stop fighting with my old reality.
    I scrambled to the kitchen area and hovered over the sink, feeling like I’d be sick, but nothing came out. It was probably because I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. In fact, I hadn’t eaten much at all in the past month and a half. I’d lost fifteen pounds and was down to a seven, a first for me and a really sad way to get there.
    I opened King’s fridge and found only champagne. No food. No other beverages. Just really expensive-looking champagne, the same French bubbles, actually, that King had left in my hotel room the night he branded me in Palenque.
    Jerk.
    I’d thought he was being considerate, given I’d had an extremely horrific day—a little run-in with some violent Mexican officials at the airport—when in reality, the champagne was