Micah's Bride (All the King's Men Book 9)

Home > Other > Micah's Bride (All the King's Men Book 9) > Page 1
Micah's Bride (All the King's Men Book 9) Page 1

by Donya Lynne




  Micah’s Bride©

  All the King’s Men, book nine

  Published by Phoenix Press

  Copyright 2017 Donya Lynne

  Cover by Reese Dante - www.reesedante.com

  ISBN: 978-1-938991-37-0

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].

  References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons or locales, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Did You Enjoy the Book?

  Books By Donya Lynne

  About Donya Lynne

  Connect with Donya

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to Liz, Amanda, and Leann for once again providing crucial feedback to help me create the best story possible. I want to thank my editor, Laura LaTulipe, for always catching my back. A writer’s eyes aren’t the same as an editor’s eyes when it comes time to review a manuscript and catch all the silly errors. Thank you for using your eyes to catch mine. To my cover artist, Reese Dante, I trust your vision implicitly. You are the master of your craft, and it’s a joy to work with you on each new cover. To my readers, a big sloppy MWAH! Thank you for reading my books and loving my characters. You’re not just readers, you’re friends.

  I hope you all enjoy Micah’s Bride.

  Chapter 1

  “Come on, we’re celebrating.”

  Sam stopped and stared at Micah as he whisked past her into the living room of their downtown apartment and shut off the light. She’d barely been home a minute and had been about to take off her shoes when Micah turned her around and corralled her back toward the front door.

  She frowned over her shoulder at him. “I thought you wanted a quiet, romantic night in.”

  With the kids from Cordray’s orphanage still at their house in the suburbs, quiet and romantic were two things that had been in short supply in recent days.

  “Change of plans.” Micah reached inside the small closet by the door, grabbed the jacket she’d just hung up, and shoved it at her before giving her a love swat on the ass. “Let’s go. We’re late.”

  “Late for what?”

  “It’s a surprise.” He opened the door, pushed her into the hall, and locked up behind them.

  “Micah . . .” She’d really been looking forward to spending time with him—just the two of them—tonight.

  “Trust me.” He took her hand and hurried her to the elevator, wearing a mysterious grin that bespoke the secrets and intrigues he’d apparently been keeping from her about tonight. “This is going to be better than a night in.”

  Better than a night in bed with her, naked and willing to do anything he wanted? She was tempted to press her palm to his forehead to check for a fever. Micah wasn’t one to turn down a guaranteed night of scorching sex.

  “Are you feeling okay?” She struggled to keep up with his long strides.

  “Yep.”

  She side-eyed him. Something was different about him tonight. Something that reminded her of a kid waiting to open presents on Christmas morning.

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

  “Nope.”

  A yep and a nope. Monosyllabic Micah had entered the building, which always meant trouble.

  “Ugh. I hate when you do this.”

  The elevator opened, and he nudged her inside. “No you don’t. You love it.”

  She crossed her arms and leaned against the back of the elevator as it started down. “It’s your loss. You have no idea the things I planned to do to you tonight. And all the things I planned to let you do to me.”

  His gaze rolled to hers as if to say, “Puh-lease.”

  Fighting back a smile, she turned away. She didn’t want him to see either the defeat or the amusement in her eyes. Of course he knew what she’d planned for them tonight. He could read her mind without even trying.

  Part of her hated that, but another part of her secretly loved it. He knew what she needed without her having to tell him. And it certainly kept the lines of communication open between them. The disadvantage was that surprising him was damn near impossible, unlike his ability to surprise her. Case in point, tonight.

  He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing the backs of her fingers. “Trust me, baby, you surprise me every single day.” Pure love shone in his gaze. Love, devotion, and unyielding deference.

  “How?”

  His navy blue gaze softened as he searched her face. “By putting up with me.”

  Damn him. He always knew just what to say to make her heart beat a little bit harder. “You can be pretty hard to take, Mr. Black, but for some reason I can’t fathom, I fall in love with you a little more every day.”

  “Ditto, Mrs. Black.”

  It was her turn to roll her eyes. “For the thousandth time, I’m not Mrs. Black until you give me a wedding.”

  He said nothing, only smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Then he drew her to him and brushed his lips over hers with uncharacteristic tenderness.

  Micah usually made a snarky retort when she told him he couldn’t call her Mrs. Black, but not this time.

  The elevator doors opened, revealing the parking garage below the building, and Micah snapped to attention. “Let’s go.”

  That’s right. They were late. She had no idea for what, but they obviously needed to hurry.

  Five minutes later, they were zipping through Chicago’s late-night traffic, heading for the interstate.

  “How did orientation go tonight?” he asked.

  She turned away from watching the buildings fly by out the passenger window. “Better than I thought.”

  Changes were occurring in both their lives. Not only had she been accepted into the nursing program at AKM, but Micah had recently found out his father was alive, that he had a half brother, and that he was of royal blood. He’d also taken on a new role for King Bain, that of commander for a newly created covert ops team meant to drive a dagger into the heart of Premier Royce’s deceit and machinations.

  Oh, yeah, and Sam was pregnant.

  So, lots of developments. Who knew when they would get another night together now that their schedules were about to become crazy town?

  “Are you excited about getting back to work?”

  “Yes.” And she was, despite the ships-passing-in-the-night course they were on. “It was amazing how all the training and old feelings came back to me from my days in the Army. The adrenaline rush, the feeling that I would be doing something that would make a difference, that I would be helping people again.”

  His hand found hers and encircled it with security and warmth.

  Micah knew better than anyone h
ow important it was for her to put her skills to use. She wasn’t just trying to cure cabin fever by taking a job. Getting out of the house was part of it, sure, because she had begun to feel useless just sitting at home all the time. But her new job was about so much more than making herself useful.

  “You’re not useless, baby,” Micah said quietly, squeezing her hand.

  This was another benefit of his ability to read her mind. Conversations were easier because she didn’t have to put her thoughts into words.

  “I was beginning to feel useless.”

  “Only because you’re not the type to sit on the sidelines.”

  Micah knew her so well. Probably because he could see every thought that passed through her mind.

  She glanced across the seat at his strong, angular profile. She’d drawn the winning lottery ticket with Micah. Looks, brains, brawn. And the guy loved her as if she were the very beat of his heart.

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You are the beat of my heart. And I’m the one who won the lottery the night you found me.” His dark eyes sparkled as he quickly gave her a sidelong glance, then turned his attention back to the road.

  She leaned against the headrest and gazed at him. “We both won.”

  That made him smile and give her another quick but affectionate glance. “I can live with that.”

  She stared at her man—male, whatever—a few seconds longer and then, still holding his hand, shifted in her seat and looked out the window again. But she wasn’t seeing the city pass her by. Her vision was fixed on the past. Pre-Micah. Pre-immortality.

  Pre-freedom.

  Because she hadn’t been truly free until she met Micah.

  For the year before he entered her life, she’d been in hiding from her abusive ex-husband, Steve.

  Steve had taken everything from her. Her independence, her safety, her free will. Her job. She’d been an Army medic, and while being away from home had been hard on their marriage, it had also been the only source of freedom she’d had.

  When her first tour was over, he’d refused to let her re-up. No discussion. Just a flat rejection of any and all conversation about it. And he’d refused to let her take a job as a nurse, not just at the hospital where he worked as a surgeon, but at any hospital.

  She’d become nothing more than an imprisoned sex slave. He tracked her every move, questioned why she left the house in the middle of the afternoon, accused her of having an affair, and beat her when he thought she was lying. And that was just the appetizer for the real abuse.

  Fortunately, Sam was no wallflower. But she was also smart and knew she couldn’t fight back, just up and leave, or get a useless restraining order. That would have only made the situation worse. Instead, she devised a plan to escape.

  For months, she prepared, stashing as much cash away as she could without withdrawing too much from their bank account at one time that Steve would notice. When the time was right, she drained the rest of the money from the account and fled.

  And spent the next year hiding, looking over her shoulder, and living in fear. Fear that he would find her. Fear that she would never get her life back. Fear that she would spend the rest of her life watching her back and avoiding surveillance cameras like a criminal instead of the victim she was.

  Then, in January, she heard the fight where Apostle and his gang of drecks were beating Micah to within a minute of his last breath in that parking garage. She’d just gotten off work as an exotic dancer at the Black Garter. It was late. She’d been alone. Anyone else would have left Micah to die, but leaving had never been an option. Not for her. Not for a veteran. She grabbed her gun from her gym bag and darted straight into danger—right into a world she never knew existed.

  Only later, after Micah saved her life and she fell in love with him, did she realize that trying to be a hero was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  A lot happened that night, as well the nights that followed. She almost died, but Micah saved her. In every way he saved her, right down to ensuring Steve would never bother her again by wiping all memories of her from his mind.

  Steve would never come looking for her again. She was safe. Because of Micah. She’d been his hero, and he’d been hers.

  But old habits die hard, and she still suffered lingering PTSD every time she saw a Mercedes, which was the type of car Steve drove. Just seeing the Mercedes logo was enough to make her pulse kick up a notch. And giving her real name and address to anyone still filled her with dread. Providing that information on her AKM application had made her hands tremble. In fact, her fear of old demons was one reason why it took her so long to apply for the nursing position in the first place.

  They say that with time comes healing, but there were still times she was as terrified of Steve finding her as she had been when she was living in that run-down studio apartment in one of Chicago’s worst neighborhoods. The one she lived in when she met Micah.

  All of which meant tonight’s orientation had felt like a small victory. Maybe she was finally making progress in her endeavor to exorcise Steve from her system. Slow progress, but any progress was better than none.

  Micah’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand, pulling her from her thoughts.

  “He can’t hurt you anymore,” he said.

  She should have known he would still be inside her mind, seeing all her fears. Her worries. Her ever-present dread that Steve was still out there and that she could one day cross paths with him and he would snap out of the Vulcan mind-meld Micah had zinged him with and remember her.

  “He won’t remember you, Sam. I promise.” Micah’s fingers tightened around hers, reassuring her. “I completely removed you from his memory. If you do cross paths with him again, he won’t even know who you are.”

  She sighed and clutched his hand as if it were an anchor. “I know. It’s just . . .”

  “Sam, you lived in fear of him for a long time. It’s going to take time to get out of the habit of looking over your shoulder and hiding your tracks. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ll get through this. In time, you’ll learn to feel safe again. And I’ll be with you every step of the way, doing what I can to help you regain your independence.”

  Some people went their whole life never finding what she’d found in Micah. Support, security, affection. Complete, unfiltered, open-hearted love.

  “Ditto, Mrs. Black,” he said, winking at her.

  She laughed an airy, staccato laugh. “Okay, you can get out of my head now, Mr. Black. You’ve been inside it long enough already. And may I remind you, yet again, that just because you put a ring on it doesn’t mean you can call me Mrs. Black. You can’t call me that until we’re—”

  “Married. I know.” He smirked like he had something up his sleeve.

  What was up with that? “Right. Married.” She frowned.

  If only she could see inside his head.

  He said nothing further. Just sat there with that cocky smirk on his face.

  That’s when she realized where they were. Or, rather, where they weren’t.

  “Micah, where are you taking me?” She peered out the passenger window at the unfamiliar surroundings. Colossal mansions with gated driveways and yards the size of football fields whizzed past.

  He didn’t answer her.

  She shifted and stared across the front seat at him. When he still didn’t respond, she asked again, a little more pointedly. “Where are we going?”

  His smirk turned into a wry smile. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

  “I thought you were taking me to dinner.”

  “You assumed I was taking you to dinner.”

  “Fine, I assumed. Clearly, that’s not the case.” She gestured out the window at another mansion as they flew past it.

  “Are you hungry?” He glanced at her like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

  Her brow knitted inward. Actually, she wasn’t hungry, but admitting that to him felt like defeat, and she ha
ted admitting defeat. “A little. Maybe.”

  “No you’re not.” He chuckled.

  She withdrew her hand from his. “Yeah, well, I could be.”

  He put both hands on the wheel, not even bothering to pretend he was affronted. “If you get hungry, there will be food where we’re going.”

  “Where exactly is that?”

  “It’s a surprise, Sam. Meaning I can’t tell you. If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore.”

  With a frustrated growl, she crossed her arms. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

  He laughed. “Relax. I’m your hero, remember?” His voice took on a dramatic flair. “The dude who saved you from Steve. You know, Superman to your Lois Lane. So just sit back and let me play the part tonight.” He tugged her arm free and wrapped his hand around hers again. “Trust me, baby, you’re going to have an incredible time.”

  Something in his tone harkened to a night not too long ago when they’d attended a sex party hosted inside a mansion much like those lining both sides of the road. It was the party where Micah discovered that Trace was a submissive. What a night that had been.

  She glanced down at her silk blouse and dress slacks. “Micah, I’m not dressed for this.”

  His eyebrows rose in amusement as he picked up her thoughts. “A sex party? That’s where you think I’m taking you?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  A low, dark chuckle laced with mischief rumbled from deep inside his throat. “I’m not taking you to a sex party, Sam.”

  “Then where are you taking me?”

  The car began to slow, and Micah let go of her hand and hit the right turn signal. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Not surprisingly, the driveway they turned onto was gated, just like all the rest they’d passed in the last mile.

  “I hate surprises,” she muttered.

  Actually, she didn’t hate surprises. She loved them. She just hated knowing a surprise was coming and not knowing how long she had to wait for it.

  Micah pulled up to the gate and glanced out the driver’s side window at one of the numerous cameras aimed at the car. Almost immediately, the mechanized gate crawled open, and Micah accelerated through.

 

‹ Prev