King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3)

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King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) Page 8

by Marie Johnston


  Pearl stepped back and waved her finger between us. “Since Mummy dearest found out what you did, she’s been in a reception-planning frenzy and somehow hasn’t figured out that I don’t know the slightest difference between steel blue and cobalt.”

  Mother had been planning? Ugh. Xander might rethink how much he was willing to do for money.

  “And you’re my new brother-in-law. The knight in cheap armor that turned out to be platinum. Chief sounded downright giddy on the phone.”

  Xander held his hand out. “Xander King.”

  Pearl shook it, then crossed her arms, eyeing him. “I can’t wait to hear the unabridged story, Savvy.”

  “That’ll have to wait. Is Mother home?”

  “The Dame is in the study, picking out announcements.” No nicknames for Mother ever stuck. She was very much just Mother, but Pearl kept trying. “Marriage announcements.”

  Warmth leeched from my face and the cold seeped in for the first time since we’d landed. My family and Brady knew about my Vegas wedding. And Lex. And of course Xander’s family had to all know by now. But all our extended relatives and everyone in our social circle?

  That made it so . . . real.

  Pearl bounced on the balls of her feet and I fortified myself against the next bit of news. Her voice was strangled, like she couldn’t contain her glee. The military had done nothing to dampen her annoying sister qualities. “I heard her booking a photo shoot for the two of you.”

  “Oh God. She’s going all out.”

  “She is. And I’m going to be so off the hook for at least a month. Chief might not be bugging me to get married, but she’s been asking me if I met any nice officers while I was at Fort Jackson. Thank you!” She threw her arms around me once more, then withdrew so fast I stumbled backward.

  Xander’s hand was on my elbow in a heartbeat.

  Pearl chucked him on the shoulder. “You’ve earned the best brother title already.”

  “Happy I could help,” he said dryly. His hand dropped from my arm and I missed his heat.

  “Come on.” Pearl bounded away. “Let the fun begin.”

  I watched her go. I didn’t move and neither did Xander. I had no idea how long he planned to stay, or what we were going to do together as a married couple while we were here. Xander was used to leaving when he wanted. How long would he stick this out with me before he said enough is enough, have your lawyer call me next Valentine’s Day?

  Had the lunch with Chief really been yesterday? Yes. It was early in the day. I’d been married for nearly forty-eight hours. A detail niggled at the edge of my mind. Right!

  “Happy birthday,” I said. He hadn’t reminded me.

  “Thanks,” he said, his eyes on the house.

  “I didn’t get you anything. I hope the millions you’ll get next year will make up for it.” What would a whole year bring? Would we still be together? Would we be married in name only until we cashed in? Too many questions when we’d known each other for less than two days.

  But that didn’t mean that the answers weren’t important.

  Xander

  I wanted to leave. Hitch a ride to the airport and fly out. I’d go anywhere there weren’t reception halls, matching color schemes, or portrait sessions for invitations.

  Less than two hours after we’d arrived at the Abbot estate, my arms were stretched to the sides and a dude I’d met only minutes ago had his hand in my crotch. Another guy was at my back with a measuring tape, getting the width of my shoulders. The suit Mrs. Abbot wanted me to wear for the photos was going to be the most impeccably tailored garment I’d ever worn. Which was a low bar to step over, but still.

  I’d grown up with money. My family worked hard for what we had, but the stress of managing wealth was different than managing debt, or living without money altogether. A difference I knew and that my brothers didn’t. But that didn’t mean we’d grown up like Savvy. We bought our clothing from the farm and tractor place in town. If we needed something fancier, we went to the mall in Billings. My shoes and cowboy boots had always been off the rack, never special ordered, like the pair crotch-measuring guy had just put a rush on.

  He’d even politely suggested a brand of underwear and undershirts that he could order. I’d agreed since I didn’t have much more than what was in my backpack and I was certain this photo shoot wasn’t the only one Mrs. Abbot had lined up.

  Normally, I’d feel bad about the expense, but it wasn’t like Savvy or I had asked for pictures, marriage announcements, a “small” gathering to celebrate our nuptials, or any of the rest of it. I’d rather leave the country until next February and find some good, hard work to sink into until then. Then I’d try my hand at selling a few snapshots.

  But this wasn’t about me, and despite what my dad thought, I wasn’t selfish. All I had to do was stay married in order to get my share and pay Dad back for what I’d pilfered. In order to stay married to me, Savvy needed more. She needed me to put on this dog and pony show. She was doing what I couldn’t—facing her family, determined to justify her choices in life. I wasn’t going to leave her hanging during my first week of being a husband.

  “All right.” The man from the floor rose, one of his knees cracking, but that didn’t slow him down. “I think I have all I need. Marcus would like to go over colors and styles with you.”

  “Is basic black an option?”

  The guy, Harold maybe—this place didn’t do name tags—smiled. “There is no such thing as basic black here.” Humor laced his tone, as if he and I were in on the same secret. There was nothing simple in this store, otherwise their clientele would go elsewhere.

  I followed him to a back room that had racks of jackets and a table full of swatches. The ornate chair behind a massive desk must be where I got to sit.

  I looked around for Savvy, despite knowing she wouldn’t be here yet. Mrs. Abbot had asked the driver to drop me off at the tailors while they went to a dress boutique. I guess the really high-end places specialized in only men or women.

  It could be worse. Harold and Marcus hadn’t asked me anything more probing than whether I liked the feel of a material.

  Taking a seat behind the desk, I shook my head at Marcus’s offer for a drink, especially once I spotted the same kind of brandy Dad would drink. He wouldn’t approve of the Abbots paying for my tux, and the fitting, and everything else. I’d add them to the debt I had to pay.

  An hour and forty minutes later, I was regretting turning down the drink. I couldn’t take one more sable, slate, pitch, or onyx swatch coming at me. Then I made the mistake of asking about a navy blue suit.

  A frenzy of messages went between Marcus and Mrs. Abbot until Marcus confirmed the exact shade of Savvy’s dress.

  “Sapphire,” he announced.

  “Wouldn’t that be gauche?” I asked. “Dressing her the same as her name?”

  Harold blinked and Marcus covered his mouth with his hand and looked at the ground.

  “It’s uh . . .” Harold licked his lips and scratched the back of his neck. “It’s um . . . expected of the Abbots. No one questions Opal’s choices.”

  “Is her dress going to be mother of pearl?”

  Harold coughed a laugh and Marcus’s eyes flared wide, but his cheek pinched like he was biting it.

  “I don’t mean to be insulting.” I truly didn’t, but I’d only been in this world for a few hours and I was dog tired from a night of traveling and sleeping on planes and in uncomfortable airport chairs. My day wasn’t over after this either. When Mrs. Abbot had learned I didn’t have more than a suitcase and a backpack, anticipation had gleamed in her eyes. She enjoyed planning and purchasing, and Savvy and I were the perfect excuse for more.

  Opal Abbot wasn’t what I’d expected. Savvy had said Stepford wife, but there was a lot going on behind my new mother-in-law’s eyes. She didn’t beam because I was Xander King, son of Gentry King and part of the King Oil empire. She also didn’t look down her nose at a struggling photographer.


  Savvy had introduced me, I’d been assessed, and that’d been it. I was Savvy’s husband and for now, that would do. The rest was left up to me. Which was why I would suck up my fatigue and get whatever clothing Mrs. Abbot thought was befitting of the family image. For now, it was the only way I could repay her.

  “I’m just trying to figure the Abbots out.” It wasn’t a lie. “This wasn’t how I grew up.”

  Harold nodded like he’d assumed at least that. I doubted any of his other clients had worn a hemp hoodie in here.

  “I grew up with manure on my boots. Not polish.” I don’t know why I felt like I had to explain. They weren’t judging me. But damn, this life wasn’t anything like what I’d lived.

  Marcus’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I used to show horses when I was a kid.”

  With his perfect posture and deliberate movements, I could picture him in long boots and a Beagler hat, taking his horse through the movements. But horse shows were nothing like the 4-H shows Mama had entered us in before she’d died. Scrawny kids with tucked-in white shirts, blue jeans, and dusty cowboy boots. Still, it made me feel better. Someone else knew the smell of horse sweat.

  A flurry of giggles reached the selection room. I picked out Savvy’s laugh, no doubt a result of something Pearl had said, and based off Mrs. Abbot’s faint admonishment, I was right.

  “Oh, husband of my sister,” Pearl called.

  “Pearl,” Savvy hissed.

  “Ah.” Marcus clapped his hands together. “I think we’re done. It sounds as if the rest of your group has arrived.”

  “I’d better go before they tear your store apart.”

  Harold chuckled nervously. “The Abbots are always a delight.”

  Since he probably dealt with Chief, I understood the thread of anxiety in his voice.

  I returned to the show floor, where the finest suits were displayed and rows of subdued colored shirts lined shelves.

  My steps slowed. Pearl was behind a mannequin, attempting to do a who wore it better pose. Savvy was doing a version of the robot, mannequin style. Her back was to me, giving me a full view of her ass in the tight jeans she wore. They were stuffed into the fluffy boots Pearl had used earlier. Her coat was cinched at her waist, but the way she twisted and bent gave me a stilted, yet erotic show. Way more erotic than any robot dance I’d ever seen before.

  Pearl giggled. “Better watch out, Sav. It looks like your husband wants to consummate the marriage right now.”

  Savvy froze and peeked over her shoulder. Her cheeks burned red, but she turned back to Pearl and hissed, “Oh, it’s been consummated. So. Hard.”

  Pearl sputtered and guffawed.

  “Pearl. Sapphire.” Mrs. Abbot’s voice whip-cracked a warning through the store.

  Pearl straightened, rolling her lips in, struggling to keep from laughing.

  Savvy spun around and lifted her chin. “Why dah-ling. However did the fitting go?”

  That earned Savvy a glare from her mom before she turned her back on us to finish conversing with Marcus. She probably had to clear my choices before they could be purchased.

  When I reached Savvy, I leaned into her. “I’ll be suited up as befits a prize stud in seventy-two hours.” My arm slipped around her waist and I kissed her neck.

  A hitch in Savvy’s breath made me pull away at the same time she did. Pearl’s gaze bored into her sister, then me. For the first time in the hours since I’d met Pearl, she didn’t say anything, just went to her mom’s side.

  “Sorry. It’s just . . .” Savvy played with the ends of her long ponytail hanging over her shoulder. “Sorry.”

  Right. What had been magic on our wedding night was now pretend. She was willing to go only so far with the illusion. “No worries. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

  I meant what I’d said. If my wife was more comfortable while I slept on the floor, so be it. But that didn’t stop my heart from sinking down to my toes. Didn’t she want more than pretend? Didn’t she want to explore the fire that had brought us together? Didn’t she want . . . me?

  It was early yet, only the beginning of our marriage. I had a lot of work to do. Double if I was the only one putting in the effort.

  Chapter 7

  Savvy

  The room was blissfully quiet. Mother had left me alone as she finished planning various festivities for the upcoming weeks. I had a reprieve from voicing my opinions on venues, color themes, and VIP attendees who meant nothing to me but everything to my parents.

  I was in the library Mother had created on the first floor, a little-used room full of boring military history tomes and a desk that hadn’t seen an ass behind it for years. My sisters and I thought this room was the most unexciting space on earth, but right now, it was quiet and offered a wide view into the backyard.

  Pearl stopped in the doorway. She eyed me, then the window. I ignored her devilish smirk as she danced in and peered out the window. I shifted in the wingback chair that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a Civil War–era plantation mansion. It probably had been, and no extra padding had been added either. But I’d been sitting here for an hour already.

  “Stalker,” she said triumphantly and flopped into the matching chair across from me. Both seats flanked the window. For a friendly visit. For natural light while reading. Or for spying on my husband, who’d been helping our lawn service clear snow from the outdoor seating area.

  It was the end of February, but Mother had insisted the backyard be as presentable as inside the house.

  Xander laughed with the landscaper. I didn’t even know his name, but by now, Xander probably knew the names of the guy’s wife and children. Hell, he’d probably even been invited to their house for Easter.

  I could go out there, but I never talked to the staff. I knew the names of the housekeeping staff. We exchanged pleasant greetings but nothing beyond “How are you doing today?”

  We weren’t a horrible household to work for, but natural turnover made it hard to get to know people. After a lifetime of seeing familiar faces turn to strange ones, I’d eventually stopped trying.

  “I’m not stalking,” I grumbled.

  She curled her legs under her. “Didn’t you get enough of him last night?”

  I shot her a glare. Her room was next to mine, but I knew very well that she couldn’t hear a damn thing. There was nothing to hear. Chief hadn’t made me come into work yet, but I’d been exhausted all the same. I’d collapsed in bed, thanks to the travel and emotional roller coaster of the last few days. I’d burrowed under the covers and Xander had slept on top. I could only assume he’d gone to bed shortly after I’d fallen asleep, since he’d been in the bathroom when I’d conveniently passed out.

  “What?” Her expression wasn’t even trying to be innocent. “Seriously, though. I can’t believe you aren’t trying to milk him for all he’s worth—and you know damn well I’m not talking about money.”

  My gaze shifted outside. Xander had produced a heavier coat from his luggage. The dark blue material did nothing to conceal his wide shoulders. And those jeans he was in hugged the muscles of his legs. The bunch and flex as he shoveled last night’s snow was mesmerizing, casting some unique spell that kept me rooted by this damn window.

  Mother had forced a couple new outfits on him and not a one had included jeans. Yet that was what Xander wore.

  “It wouldn’t be right,” I finally answered, my gaze lifting to his easy grin at something the other man said. Xander did the shoveling while the landscaper used a broom to sweep snow from between the crevices of the stone patio.

  I waited for Mother to march into the library and ask why on earth my husband was clearing snow, but she hadn’t made one comment about the way he dressed. She had to know he was outside. She knew everything that went on in and around the house.

  Pearl’s fists landed on her hips. “Why the hell not?”

  Brady was deep in job hunting and couldn’t afford to meet me for a coffee to talk. Pearl h
ad been busy with school and this was the first time we’d been alone. Everything that had happened in the seventy-two hours before I’d returned home crowded on my tongue. “Close the door.”

  I explained it all—from getting canned to the trust. Pearl and I had always been closer than her and Em. My oldest sister and I had gotten along great when we were younger, but then during her high school years, she’d started emulating Mother while Pearl was still willing to do forbidden activities like play in the trees surrounding our property or take our dolls under the stairs so we wouldn’t get a lecture about how it was time to move on from such juvenile activities.

  I finished with “The lawyer confirmed everything Xander said about the trust. So that’s what we’re doing.” And waited. Pearl was the strong one. What was she going to think?

  “Sapphire Jewel Abbot, you’re fucking crazy.”

  “I know. It’s awful. I survived college. It wasn’t like I was on the streets. Why am I so scared?” I’d been terrified I’d fail my classes because I was too hungry to study. I’d had enough in loans to pay for the dorms, but not a meal plan.

  “No, you’re an idiot if you think that’s the only reason you didn’t sever this marriage when you woke up the next morning.”

  “I had the lunch with Chief. And Lex.”

  She lifted a pale brow. “Reeeally? That’s the only reason? It’s not because he’s hot? It’s not because he’s not a D-bag, he’s considerate, and he’s really into you?”

  My heart leapt at her last words. “He’s not that into me. He has a stake in this too.”

  “A stake that he was willing to walk away from until he met you. You don’t think he could’ve been married by now if he wanted to be?”

  Denial died on my tongue as I glanced outside. He was grinning at something the other guy had said. He stooped and pushed a swatch of wet snow with the shovel like it didn’t weigh more than foam peanuts. His powerful muscles bunched and flexed, helping me recall our wedding night in vivid, steamy detail.

 

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