Page 207 of Brutal Prince

It opens at a push from my fingers, and swings inward without a sound.

I expected a moodily lit interior, but it’s bright as noon inside here. Downlights gleam from their studs in a pine ceiling, and peek out from behind furniture.

There’s a massive three-seater sofa in the middle of the living area, facing a lit fireplace that crackles as the flames dance for me.

My riding boots echo on wooden floorboards when I move into the space. It’s all one open-plan layout, except for a small room tucked behind the kitchen’s oven range and backsplash.

It has to be a bathroom, because the west side of the cabin is dominated by a king-sized bed straight out of a fairytale with its elaborately carved mahogany footboard and rich, velvet headboard.

There are rose petals on the sheets. Champagne in a bucket on the nightstand. The entire space is scented with roses and wood smoke.

Hands slither around my waist and draw me back against Briar’s warm body.

“Surprise,” he murmurs into my ear.

“My fuck,” I say, and then instantly regret how my words seem to defile this sanctum.

“There’ll be enough time for that later,” Briar says. “But first…” He releases me, slips past, and heads toward the fire.

I was expecting a campsite, not a fucking cabin. I had a bag packed and everything.

But this?

“Hang on,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “You just told me you didn’t like me. Why’d you go to all this trouble, then?”

“I thought it would lessen the sting, my little virgin.”

My cheeks are suddenly suffused with heat.

Briar turns to look at me, a cheeky smile tugging at his wide mouth.

“Briar…” I want to tell him I’m not ready, because, fuck, that’s exactly what it feels like.

I know he’s been patient. I know I’ve been holding back. But he promised me he would wait.

He promised.

I open my mouth, but before I can say a word, he lifts a finger to his lips.

“I want to show you something,” he says.

My eyebrow quirks up. “What is it?”

He cocks his head at me. “If I told you, it would ruin the surprise.”

I inhale a deep, grounding breath, squeezing my arms around me as I give this gorgeous cabin another once-over.

I could live here. I don’t give a fuck about TV or wi-fi, or anything else.

I could live here.

But only if Briar was going to live with me.

I look at the floor, closing my eyes as I chastise myself for my own naivety.

This is no place to live. We’re both going to university next year. Briar to become a psychologist, me to study microbiology. Or history. Or art. We can maybe make it out here once a quarter, but—

“Open your eyes.”

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