King of Mine: Book 1 In the King Of Mine Series)

CHAPTER 14

Katya looked up at the kitchen clock; its worn-out minute handle stuck in one place, ticking on the same number spot loudly, unable to move to the next number on the clock.

The time to replace the clock had come, and hopefully that time would be today, if the locksmith would finish on time.

Katya's eye's lazily gazed at the locksmith, who was crouched by the kitchen door, trying to remove the door handle and lock from the kitchen door, the muscles of his arms glistening with sweat as the sun's rays from the kitchen window shone viciously on his whole body.

Katya stood close to the windows, her back on the washing sink as she kept her eyes on him.

In the nearly two hours that he had been working on the locks, he had not said much, only speaking when he absolutely had to.

This suited Katya just fine.

Most workers she dealt with were always too chatty for her liking, poking their noses into her business as though it was their birth right to know.

On the other hand, this worker was professional, concentrating on his work and keeping his mouth shut. Well, a man like Damien King who was wealthy and influential would only deal with workers who knew how to keep things professional.

While she admired his work ethics, her legs grumbled for staying upright in all the time the locksmith had been working on her locks. Should she have left a stranger to roam freely in her apartment? For every room he visited, she had stood close to him, patiently waiting for him to be done with his work.

"Ma'am, I need to go to the shop to get the new locks."

The locksmith was standing upright now, sweat dripping unforgivingly from his forehead to the sides of his face. He removed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his face and parts of his exposed arms dry. He had removed his jacket as soon as he had begun working on the locks, leaving only a sleeveless white top on to cover his chest area.

Now, as he stood, he had picked up his jacket and had slung it carelessly to his back, his left hand still clutching to a bit of it from the front.

"Okay," Katya almost sang, her face breaking into a smile. Finally, she could sit down.

As they both got to the living room, he opened the front door and held firmly to the door knob, his face dripping with fresh sweat.

"I've left this lock on so you can lock the door. When I get back I'll change this lock as well." He said and then with a slight nod of the head, he walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Katya locked the front door and with her back to the door, she slid down until her butt sat on the floor, a ravaging yawn escaping her mouth. She was tired, hungry and sleep deprived. The couple of days had been loaded with excessive drama, rather too much for her liking.

Katya closed her eyes and allowed her legs to slide down flat on the floor, her aching legs stretched out, releasing the otherwise tight tension she had been feeling in them.

Katya's eyes popped open at the sound of the doorbell. Had the locksmith forgotten his toolbox or something?

'So much for a little quiet time,' Katya grumbled as she picked herself up from the floor, and looked through the peephole.

Damien King!

At her door! Her new boss, the god-man stood on the other side of her closed door.

Katya's mouth opened, her palms becoming sweaty. What was he doing at her apartment?

Katya wiped her sweaty palms on her jean bottom, flipped away from her face strands of stray hair and took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling from the mouth.