Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Sexy.
I narrowed my eyes. No, he was only sexy if I found arrogant pricks appealing, and I’d decided long ago I didn’t. Besides, he was Emily’s. Over the years, the only attention he’d given me was when he wanted to be mean. It was entirely possible he didn’t remember my name.
“Marist Northcott,” he said, his tone like sweet liquor with a sharp, bitter aftertaste.
The jerk remembered me. I lowered the book in my lap. “My sister was looking for you.”
The corner of his mouth tugged upward. It wasn’t exactly a smile, but he was amused. “I bet she was.”
I gave him a slow, plain blink, letting him know I wasn’t going to engage. Lots of women fell all over him, but I wasn’t one of them.
He took a step deeper into the room. The tie around his neck was the same green as his daddy’s money and the knot at his collar was askew. Had he loosened it recently, or not quite finished getting dressed? Perhaps he’d been the man on his knees in the other room, making the woman moan. His suit was the same shade of black, but his hair wasn’t rumpled.
“Did you find Emily?” I asked.
He sobered. Something ghosted through his eyes, but it was gone too fast for me to recognize the emotion. “Yeah.”
The single word carried an unmistakable finality to it. This was something he didn’t want to discuss. Instead, all he did was trap me with the gravity of his gaze.
This was what I remembered most about him, how he’d stare intensely. He didn’t break eye contact, didn’t flinch. He peered at you as if it were only a matter of time before he discovered all your secrets. Everything you tried to hide or were ashamed of, he’d find it. His scrutiny always forced me to look away first. I had to run before he learned just how exposed I felt around him. He’d take it as an advantage and somehow exploit it.
He was so fucking comfortable holding my gaze too long, staring into the depths of me. Like me, he typically said whatever he was thinking. Honesty was a great trait, until it wasn’t. Too much of it and it cut painfully deep. As acute as his stare was, I tried not to wither.
“Congrats on your MBA,” I said flatly.
He waved my insincere pleasantry away like it was an annoying fly. “It must be some book to have you hiding up here.”
“I don’t like parties.”
It came out before I thought better of it, but Royce didn’t seem offended. “Yeah, me either.”
What was he talking about? “Do you know how many times my sister snuck home after curfew from one of your parties? If you don’t like them, why’d you throw so many?”
He considered my question. “The bigger the party, the more freedom I had.” He grinned. “Fuck, half the time I wasn’t even here.”
He’d revealed it like a secret, and an unwanted thrill shot through me. If this wasn’t widely known, why would he share it? Everything in Cape Hill was about being elite and exclusive. Money was easy to come by, but power was harder, and knowledge was its own form of currency.
“What are you reading?” His question was simple, but a demand, nonetheless. His father was the king of Cape Hill, which made Royce a prince, and I was merely a subject in his castle. So, I was forced to hold the book up for him to see. His eyes sharpened on the gold and white artwork on the cover. He sounded dubious. “Mythology?”
I nodded then dropped my gaze to the pages, striving to look indifferent. I couldn’t read as he stood over me, but I’d act like I was. I could pretend I didn’t smell his cologne or was wondering if he’d just finished fucking the girl down the hall and was prowling for his next meal.
“Is that for a summer class or something?” he asked.
“No.”
As I tried to focus on the page, his confusion was distracting. “Why are you reading it?”
“Because I want to?”
My tone was a bit more pointed than I meant for it to be, and the silence that hung in its aftermath was taut. I glanced up to find Royce’s eyebrow arched halfway up his forehead. He didn’t like my sass.
Or . . .
Did he?
Something thickened in his eyes, hot and heavy.
“And this is more riveting than my party?” He placed his palm on his chest, covering his heart, feigning I’d wounded him. “I’m deeply offended.”
“I’m sure,” I said dryly then refocused on the printed page. I scanned the words and absorbed none of them. It didn’t matter. Seconds later the book was yanked from my hands. I scrambled up out of the chair, chasing after it. “Hey.”
Royce held the book out of my reach and wore an evil grin.