by Kennedy Ryan
“Let’s tell our family in a few weeks,” I propose. “And after the first trimester for everyone else.”
She clears her throat, blinks to clear her eyes of lingering tears. “That sounds good. I’ll tell Lennix and President Cade, of course.”
I frown. Kimba is a political superstar. Race after race, she proves that, and the phones at Allen & Associates never stop ringing. I don’t interfere, but I’ll protect her from the candidates who would put their interests above hers, their campaigns over her health.
I’ll protect her from herself.
“We need very clear instructions from the doctor, Tru,” I say, tucking a curl behind her ear, kissing the curve of her neck. “I know you want to re-elect the president—”
“There is nothing I want more than this baby, Ez.” She looks up at me, her eyes sober and settled. “Nothing. If I need to curtail my involvement in the campaign, I will. I promise I’ll do everything the doctor tells me to.”
I cup her breast, even fuller now that she’s pregnant, brush my thumb over her nipple, and wait for the inevitable catch of her breath. “And what about what I tell you to do?”
She turns so her knees rest on either side of my legs, so she’s straddling me. “Are you really trying to fuck your wife out in the open on this roof?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I laugh, grabbing a fistful of curls and bringing her lips to mine in a fierce, tongue-tangling kiss. When the kiss slows, I roll my palms over the taut muscles of her back, over the swell of her ass, the supple line of her thighs. I would know her anywhere. The shape of her, the smell, the taste. Through the years, those things will change, but this living thread that has connected us since birth, it’s inviolable.
“After this baby, you want another?” I ask. “We have eggs.”
She laughs, a throaty, happy sound that wraps around me more warmly than this cashmere blanket. “We have eggs, Dr. Stern. After this one, let’s see what my body has left. I’m down to try again.”
I’m greedy. I wake up each morning starving for everything I can get from this life, from this woman, and want to offer everything I have to give. We spent two decades apart and for the rest of our lives, I’ll be making up for lost time.
She looks down at me, the laughter dying. “But if not, we have Noah and Mai. I know they’re not mine, but I love them like they are. I really do, Ez.”
“I know you do.” I lift the little tab suspended from the chain she wears around her neck, a symbol of our two weddings, of a lifelong love.
“You know Mama thinks Daddy set this all up, right?” she asks, catching my fingers at the necklace. “That he requested I present the awards, selected you, to bring us back together.”
The memory of Joseph Allen, a giant in this city, taking time to talk for hours with me that day, furiously scribbling my dreams on a napkin as our coffee grew cold, is vivid in my mind. I unpacked my heart to him that day, and there’s no way he could have seen what lay in my heart without seeing his daughter Tru.
“I wouldn’t put it past him.” My smile fades. “Maybe he wouldn’t have if he’d known what you’d have to endure, living through someone else having my child.”
Kimba drops her forehead to mine, slips her fingers into the hair at my nape.
“He wouldn’t have changed a thing. Daddy knew firsthand how messy love can be,” she says, her words wistful, certain across my lips. “Mama told me that love isn’t tidy, and she’s right, but all the mess we had to wade through to have this, to have each other, was worth it.”
Nothing life has thrown at us so far—not a twenty-year separation, not Aiko’s pregnancy or any of the challenges that come with negotiating such a complex blended family like ours—have managed to crack the foundation we laid for this marriage starting the day we were born.
Noah’s laughter, Mai’s squeals, the clack of mah-jongg tiles – the symphony of our life together—clamors from below. A cacophony that from the outside looking in probably seems discordant and sounds like a mass of noise. But to us it makes sense, all the notes fitting together. Harmony where there could be chaos. The tastes, the sounds, the stories, gathered from distant lands, borne by our blood, blended in our bonds.
Forever.
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Author’s Note
As I was writing, I had a few early readers wonder if I’d made up the Crown Act Kimba discusses. I didn’t. It’s a real thing and so very vital in the fight for workplace parity, not only between men and women, but to protect people of all ethnicities and traditions against systemic bias.
Learn more about the Crown Act here: https://www.thecrownact.com/
And as for the book Kimba gives to Noah, Ezra's Big Shabbat Question, it's an actual book written by Aviva L. Brown. She writes books about Jews of Color, different types of Jewish families, and every day Jewish life.
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The Kingmaker
All the King’s Men Duet, Book 1
By Kennedy Ryan
Click here to purchase.
“This story sets a new bar in the genre… Exquisitely written, meticulously researched, tender, yet oh-so steamy--this is the Mary Poppins of Contemporary Romances: practically perfect in every way." -- Natasha Is A Book Junkie
Power. Passion. Betrayal.
Raised to rule, bred to lead and weaned on a diet of ruthless ambition.
In a world of haves and have nots, my family has it all, and I want nothing to do with it.
My path takes me far from home and paints me as the black sheep. At odds with my father, I'm determined to build my own empire. I have rules, but Lennix Hunter is the exception to every one of them. From the moment we meet, something sparks between us. But my family stole from hers and my father is the man she hates most. I lied to have her, and will do anything to keep her. Though she tries to hate me, too, the inexorable pull between us will not be denied.
And neither will I.
THE KINGMAKER is the epic and powerful first installment in the All The King’s Men Duet by USA Today bestselling and RITA® Award winning author, Kennedy Ryan.
* * * *
My father would lecture me until his face turned blue.
He’d send the authorities searching for me.
A man I met only once before tonight, a stranger whose last name I just discovered an hour ago, has me alone on a nearly deserted street in a foreign country at three a.m.
It may not be wise, but I’ll be damned if I would be anywhere else right now. Not safely tucked into my top bunk at the hostel knowing Maxim was out there wanting my company. We’ve been wooing each other with tiny touches and furtive brushes and lingering glances. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand it.
“So you thought of me, too, huh?” His grin is rakish on the handsome “somebody” face. There’s a Kennedy vibe about him. Not just the dark, dappled hair, or the tall, fit body, or the confidence in his shoulders. It’s his ideals and the iron will barely hidden beneath the casual manner. I’m not fooled. This man is not casual. He bleeds ambition. I wonder if he tries to hide it—to blend in with everyone else. It’s laughable to think he could camouflage his driven nature and be something that he’s not. Be domesticated when he is indeed, like Kimba said, a wolf.
“You’re probably already too conceited for me to answer that.” I grin back and start walking again.
“Tell me.” He says it like he means it, grasping my arm gently and halt
ing our steps again. “You thought of me?”
Words rise and fall in my throat. I could tell him that I didn’t realize it until right now, but he was a bar no other guy ever cleared. That it had nothing to do with how handsome he was, or his formidable body or dazzling smile. That the moment he stepped between me and that dog at the protest, something inside me recognized him as more than the rest.
I can’t say any of that, so I answer with only a solemn nod. There’s a wild flare in his eyes, like that ambition, that will I see tucked beneath his easy demeanor, roaring to life. He places a hand on either side of my face, his palms to my cheeks, and caresses the sides of my neck.
“Can I kiss you, Lennix?”
The question lights a fiery thread that binds us to one another, and it burns so strong, so hot, that words seem superfluous. How could he not know I want that, too? He has to know I hunger for this kiss, but I nod again.
He slowly backs us up a few feet to where the cobblestone street meets a wall. We’re partially hidden in the shadow this building casts. There’s stone at my back, the Amstel river glittering ahead, and Maxim’s body flush against mine. I feel every hardened ridge of him perfectly fitting to my body. His fingers slide into my hair. He looks down at me, and though his face is painted in shades of night, I see those gem eyes, gleaming bright and green, staring at my mouth.
He doesn’t ask again if he can kiss me. He just does, bending to test the texture of my lips with one swipe of his tongue and then another, like I’m a lollipop he wants to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of. He probes at me, seeking something I want to give. I open and take him in completely, tasting that last glass of whiskey and him. God, him. I want to crawl down his throat. My hands climb his shoulders and rove into the thick hair falling around his nape, all the while I tilt my head to get and give as much as possible.
If a kiss has a color, this one is the muted shades of the sky overhead, a ménage à trois of midnight and indigo and moonshine silver. If a kiss has a sound, this one is the concert of our breaths and sighs and moans. If a kiss has a taste, it tastes like this. Hunger flavored with yearning and spiced with desperation. With bites and growls and tender licks and soothing whimpers. Perfectly served portions of sweet and scorching.
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THE BISHOP by Skye Warren
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A With Me in Seattle Novella
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TEASE ME by J. Kenner
A Stark International Novel
FROM BLOOD AND ASH by Jennifer L. Armentrout
A Blood and Ash Novel
QUEEN MOVE by Kennedy Ryan
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Collection Two
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Collection Four
Collection Five
Collection Six
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Table of Contents
Book Description
Book Description
About Kennedy Ryan
Also from Kennedy Ryan
Acknowledgments from the Author
Dedication
Prologue
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Part Two
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Epilogue
Author’s Note
An excerpt from The Kingmaker by Kennedy Ryan
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Seven
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Special Thanks