The Bad Boy CEO Read online

“I would rather you not.” He moved to the side, hands still up, cool as a goddamn cucumber. But she kept her eyes and her gun pointed on him as he slid down onto the couch.

  “If you would get out, I wouldn’t have to!”

  “This isn’t your house.” He folded his hands in his lap, looking at her with mild annoyance, and for a split second she felt like she was in high school again, looking across the desk at her principal who was scolding her for yet another infraction. “I’m not sure if you’re confused or need a place to stay, but I can assure you that you are the one in the wrong here.”

  “I’m in the wrong?” She almost dropped her gun, kind of shocked at this guy’s smug audacity. “This is my house and I can assure you that I’m going to kill you if you don’t get off your ass and move.”

  “I know I grew up here. I know this house belongs to Lolly Goodman. And I know I used a key to get in here. What I don’t know is who you are. But I would like to know if you always wear such interesting garments when you threaten men with guns.”

  “I usually have a whole getup with chaps and everything, but in my haste to see who was in my house I plum forgot to put it on.” She felt self-conscious at the mention of her lack of attire. He hadn’t taken his eyes off hers, but just being half naked in the room with a strange man made her feel off center. She hated feeling that way and had vowed a long time ago that she would never again let another man see her vulnerability. “Why the hell are you here?” He knew the house belonged to Lolly. He knew how to get inside, but he didn’t seem to know about her. Maybe he wasn’t here to get her. But that didn’t mean she could trust him.

  “I asked you first. I can help you. You probably heard my aunt was in the hospital and thought it was safe to stay here. I can give you some money and you can be on your way. I have a lot of connections. I can even set you up with a job if you need one. The cops don’t have to be involved.”

  “I’m the one holding a gun, buddy.” She ignored his words even though he seemed earnest. She knew better than to trust men in dark suits who broke into her house in the middle of the night. “You’re the one who’s going to need the help if you don’t tell me who you are.”

  “Just put the gun down. I’m not here to hurt you. You know that now. I had a key to the house. I have an overnight bag and I’m wearing a suit that would be a bitch to get blood out of.” He slowly stood up. “Sweetheart, if you’re in trouble, I can help you. If you’re on something, I can get you clean.”

  He called her sweetheart. She hated when men did that. She pointed the gun right at his manhood. “I’ll blow your balls right off if you keep walking toward me.”

  “My aunt Lolly probably won’t take kindly to you wounding me in her house. She hates mess.”

  “Aunt.” He’d said it before but this time it made her pause. Lolly did have nephews, Zanna remembered. Three of them. They were kind of legendary in these parts, but she never heard the old woman say much about them. She just knew that they sent her monthly checks that she never cashed and once in a while she would get a phone call from one of them. “Well, if you’re so beloved, why doesn’t she ever talk about you? Why don’t you come and see her? She’s been ill. Any good nephew would know that.”

  “Lolly can’t stand me. I’m not a good nephew and my brothers and I are here because we heard she was sick.” He kept walking toward her. She backed up. She hated that she did, but she was losing ground. This guy’s story made sense, and Zanna could tell that at some point three boys had lived here. Lolly still kept the bedrooms the same. “Tell me your name.”

  “Again, lady with the gun gets her questions answered first. Did you ever hear of ladies first? Where’s your chivalry?”

  “Chivalry is dead.” He grabbed her gun with one arm while he wrapped the other completely around her, pressing her against him from chest to toes. “Especially when you’re trying not to get your head blown off.”

  She should have been shocked at how smoothly he had disarmed her, but she was more focused on his frame pressed against hers.

  Good Lord, his body was hard. Not too big. Not too muscular, but hard enough to feel yummy against her softness. He smelled good, too, almost as good as he felt. Expensive but subtle. Unlike the men around here who thought canned body spray and sweat was an aphrodisiac. His heart was pounding also, so hard that she could feel it racing against her chest, and when she looked up into his eyes, she could see that there was a tiny bit of bewilderment there. She had gotten to him. And for some reason that made her feel triumphant. Her body grew hot in all the places they connected, and her knees went slightly wobbly.

  Okay, so maybe he wasn’t here to kill her.

  “I’m Colt King. And you are?”

  “Colt King?” She swallowed, hearing the catch in her voice. His face was close to hers, and for the first time since she’d caught him walking through the door she had time to study it. His nose was just a little too long to be attractive. His jaw was sharp, his face full of sharp lines and angles, but he had the most stunning eyes that she had ever seen. They were perfectly blue and the way they looked at her, the way they seemed to devour her features, made her feel self-conscious—a feeling she wasn’t used to. “What kind of dumb name is that?” she asked in order to avoid answering him. This night had somehow spun out of her control. One moment she was getting ready for bed and the next she was pressed against a coldly beautiful man in a dark suit.

  “It’s a good strong western name, or so my father liked to tell me.”

  “You’re named after a gun?”

  “Yes.” His hand slid up her bare back a little, not in a sexual way, but as if he was trying to get a better grip on her. It was insane how attracted to him she felt. He was basically holding her hostage, but that simple motion caused heat to shoot right between her legs. “I can see by the way you had your hands wrapped around the barrel of the twelve-gauge that you know a thing or two about guns yourself.”

  “My granddaddy taught me, just in case a man with an overnight bag and a suit broke into my house in the middle of the night.”

  “It seems like he was preparing you for this moment your entire life. My older brother’s name is Duke. Not like British nobility but after the Duke, John Wayne, my father’s idol. And then there’s Levi, my younger brother, who’s named after Levi’s, because there is nothing better than an old comfortable pair of jeans. Duke King, Colt King, and Levi King. I dare you to find three men with more fitting names.”

  His voice was smooth and deep, like really great dark chocolate, and it slid over her like honey, but she tried to ignore the effect it had on her. She may have been disarmed, but she wasn’t at a disadvantage yet. “Didn’t your mother have a say in what you were named? Or was your father really that big of a chauvinistic asshole?”

  “My father was a huge asshole,” he said matter-of-factly. His hand burned on her skin and, even though he hadn’t moved it, it taunted her. Reminding her that he was fully clothed and she had nearly nothing on.

  “Like father, like son.” She needed to break contact with him. His hard body against hers, his hand heating up her skin combined with expensive masculine smell, was causing her thoughts to be foggy and her body to ache with an itch that she hadn’t had scratched in a very long time.

  “Probably.” He focused that intense gaze on her lips. “You know who I am. Now I ask you again, who are you?”

  All she had to do was bring her knee up between his legs. That would make him let go and think twice about the way he handled her.

  “You would make a bad poker player.” He shifted himself forward, pushing her backward in the tiny living room until her back touched the wall. He stuck his thigh between her legs, and it sent a thousand sparks through her body. “My manhood is going to remain unharmed tonight, and if you want to remain unharmed, too, you’ll tell me who you are.”

  “You wouldn’t hurt a woman.” There was something about him. She didn’t know a thing about him other than his name, but she knew he
wouldn’t hurt her.

  He pushed his face closer to hers, his lips just a fraction of an inch away. “I’ve been calm all night, but you’re pushing me. Who the hell are you and why are you in my sick aunt’s house?”

  “My name is Zanna,” she told him just so she could focus on something other than the pressure between her legs, or the lips that were so close to hers. “Your aunt rents me the front room. I’ve got papers to prove it. She said she may have been born at night—”

  “But it wasn’t last night and she ain’t no fool,” Colt finished for her.

  Zanna nodded. “I can stay here. Legally.”

  He just looked at her, as if he was deciding whether to believe her or not. “Zanna. What kind of name is that?”

  “It means ‘God’s gift’ in Hebrew.”

  “God’s gift?” The corner of his mouth curled ever so slightly. “I was thinking you were sent by the devil.”

  “Really? I thought the same thing about you.”

  “What do we have going on in here?” Zanna looked up to see that another man was standing in the doorway. He was younger than Colt and more beautiful. Like a young Brad Pitt, but sexier. She recognized him, too, but she didn’t know from where. “If I knew Lolly was going to be leaving a welcoming gift, I would have stuck around.”

  “Shut up, Levi.”

  “Not until you tell me how you managed to get a gorgeous half-naked female pressed against the wall. We all know I’m the one with all the game in the family.”

  “Come here and get this shotgun before she tries something else.” He picked it up and tossed it back at him in one move that even she was mighty impressed with.

  “Holy shit. She turned a gun on you?”

  “Yes.” He looked her in the eye as he backed away from her. “I think it was a misunderstanding. It appears Lolly has a tenant.”

  “I told you I can prove it,” she said, lifting her head.

  “You’d better not be taking advantage of my aunt, because I’ll run you out of here so fast you won’t have time to put clothes on.”

  “What happened to all that stuff about giving me money and finding me a job?”

  “I thought I was dealing with a drug addict or a psycho with a gun pointed at my head. I’m still not sure about you, but you better believe I will be checking you out.”

  She swallowed and kept the eye contact. She sure as hell didn’t want him digging into her past, but she knew if he smelled fear, he would think he’d won. “I’m not afraid of you, Colt King.”

  “If I learn that you’re messing with my aunt, you will be.”

  Chapter 3

  Duke was sitting at the table with a large cup of coffee when Colt walked into the kitchen next morning. Duke, who was normally on edge and always observant, didn’t turn around when he entered. He was lost in thought, and that made Colt think that Lolly’s condition was serious.

  “How is she?”

  Duke looked up at him and shrugged. “I think you had better see for yourself.”

  “Cut the shit and tell me what’s going on, Duke.”

  Duke just lifted his coffee cup and took a long sip. “She’s expecting you.” He took the keys out of his pocket and set them on the table. Colt knew he wasn’t going to get anything out of him.

  “You should know that there’s a woman named Zanna here. If she pulls a shotgun on you, be careful. She’s not easy to disarm.”

  “What?” Duke swiveled completely around to look at him.

  “I think you had better see for yourself.” He walked out then, hoping that Zanna pointed a shotgun right between his brother’s legs.

  Twenty minutes later Colt walked into the intensive care unit. The last time he had been there was when he was a kid. His father had brought them once when their mother was dying. Not much had changed in twenty-five years since then. The machinery might have been updated, the doctors and nurses might have changed, but it still smelled the same. Like sickness and antiseptic. It sounded the same. Hushed voices and an oppressive quiet that was only interrupted by the sounds of ventilators and monitors. It still felt the same way it had when he was a kid. Like heaviness and sadness. This was the place they sent people when it couldn’t get any worse.

  He came up to Lolly’s room prepared for the worst, but he found her sitting up in bed, her face fully made up and her long ash-blond hair loose around her shoulders and teased as high as it could go.

  “Oh, look, the prince has made it,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but with a smile on her face.

  “Are you sure you’re sick, old woman? Because I’ve got a business to run and no time for your bullshit.”

  “You watch your mouth, boy. Even if I can’t get out of this bed to swat you, I’ve got a big strong strapping orderly in my pocket who’ll do it for me. Now get over here and greet me like you have some sense.”

  “Hello, Lolly.” He walked over to her, taking the chair that was beside her bed. “You’re looking quite well for someone in ICU.”

  “I look like shit and you know it.”

  Now that he was closer he could tell her eyes were duller than they used to be, not clear and sharp like before. She was more wrinkled than the last time he saw her and she looked happy to see him, instead of wearing the disapproving expression she’d given them throughout their childhood. She really didn’t look sick. Not sick like the other patients unfortunate enough to be there. He would have attributed her looks to just normal aging, but the fact that she seemed glad he was there alarmed him. He never thought he would see the day. “What’s the matter with you, Lolly?”

  “Give me your hand.”

  “Why?” He raised a brow at her. “You going to smack it?”

  “No, I’d much rather smack you in the face. Give me your hand, boy.”

  She extended her hand, her fingers long and bony. He took it, noticing how cold they were and how she had never ever reached for his hand before.

  “You’re my favorite, you know.”

  “Excuse me?” Those were the last words he expected.

  “You heard me. You’re a stuck-up son of a bitch and sometimes I wondered what crawled up your ass, but I always liked you the most.”

  “I have a hard time believing that.”

  “You calling a sick old woman a liar?” She pinned him with that stare that used to scare him in his younger days.

  “Maybe, but please continue. I might have to call in the nurse to adjust your medication. You must have me confused with someone else.”

  “You’re my favorite, damn it! You’re smarter than your brothers. Smarter than anybody that ever came from this little town, and that’s why I was so hard on you when you were a kid. You can do whatever you put your mind to, and because of you I never have to worry about you or your brothers again. You took the shitty hand life dealt you and you won. You should be proud of yourself, because Lord knows how proud of you I am.”

  He just looked at her for a moment, not sure how to respond. He never thought he would hear those words from her. It was the first time anyone had told him they were proud of him. “What’s wrong with you, Lolly?” he asked again.

  “My kidneys have turned to shit. The doctors say a transplant is not going to happen.”

  “We could get a second opinion.” The best part of having money was being able to get things done. He may have felt powerless as a kid, but he’d promised himself he would never be in that situation again. “I have contacts in all the major cities. We can get you seen by a specialist in LA or New York tomorrow.”

  “I don’t need a second opinion.” She shook her head. “This is the hand I’ve been dealt. Your daddy wasn’t the only one who led a hard-partying life. I called you boys here because I know I’m getting old and even though you boys might like to think of me as an undying she-devil, I’m not going to live forever.”

  “Are you telling me that you’re dying?”

  A huge part of him didn’t want to believe her. She looked too good. Her mind
was too sharp. She still had life left to live and she definitely wasn’t the type to go down without a fight. “I want to talk to your doctors. We need to—”

  “Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking to you, boy! I’m not sure when I might go, but before I do, I need you to do something for me.”

  “What?” Her request surprised him. She had never asked any of them for anything. Never taken any of the money they tried to give her. She could have asked them for a lot. She’d taken care of them when no one else wanted to. It was well within her rights to ask for a favor.

  “My beauty parlor isn’t doing what it used to do money-wise. Especially since I’ve been sick. The girls there are doing the best they can, but I need somebody with a good head for business and numbers to go in there and see what’s going on.”

  “If you need money, you can cash those checks I send you every month. You shouldn’t be worried about that place now. It is what it is.”

  “No, I want it to be what it was. Like when you all were kids and working there. When I had so many ladies coming in and out of that shop, I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

  “But you’re sick. What’s going to happen…?” He stopped himself, uncomfortable talking about her death even if he wasn’t exactly sure that was going to happen anytime soon.

  “I want to leave it to someone and I don’t want to leave them a dying business.”

  “Fine.” He nodded. “What would you like me to do?”

  “I want you to go in there and take over for a while. Train the girls, teach them how to run a business. See what you can do to make the place some money again.”

  “I run a billion-dollar corporation. I don’t have time to run your little beauty shop.”

  “Excuse me. My beauty shop wasn’t so little when it was putting food on the table and clothes on your back when your no-good daddy ran away. It wasn’t so little when you needed books your first semester at that fancy college you went to.”

  “I’ve been trying to pay you back for that.”

  “I don’t want your damn money! I want your time. I’m asking for a month. That’s all. Thirty days of your time for the sick old woman who raised you.”