Page 101 of The Princess Trap
“It means she’s out of our league,” Luke said dryly. “She’s a genius. Her family’s loaded. You know she’s secretary of the Law Committee? You know she’s acheerleader?And,” he added darkly, “she looks likethat. I don’t know what she’s doing here. I bet it’s part of an elaborate plot to get one of us to make a fool of ourselves.”
Rahul raised his brows. “Why would she do that?”
“It’s what they do,” Luke said. “Those kinds of girls.”
Rahul stared at his friend—well,acquaintance—for a moment as he turned that logic over in his head. He made sure he was quite positive of his conclusion before he spoke. “You’re a fucking twat.”
Luke scowled, holding up his hands. “Piss off.”
“Alright.” Luke hadn’t meant it literally, but Rahul gathered up his things. It wasn’t hard; he’d barely unpacked anyway. Certainly hadn’t got a head start on the term’s assignments, as he’d intended. He shoved his stuff into his rucksack with no concern for order—for once—and made his way towards Jasmine Allen.
He had no idea what he was doing.
But she was looking at him again. Watching him. In fact, everyone in the vicinity was watching him, most with looks of dawning horror. He didn’t care. He came to the table where she sat and took the end seat, leaving space between them. She studied him with a little smile.
“Hi,” he said awkwardly.
She nodded. “Hello.” She sounded like Joanna fucking Lumley. Posh, but like she’d just finished screaming someone’s name.
What the fuck is wrong with you right now?
“I usually sit here,” he said, words tripping over themselves. “And I... didn’t like that table.”
The tables were all identical.
But she murmured some sound of vague understanding and turned back to the window.
Rahul pulled out his work and tried to focus on his research assignment. For almost another hour, he failed. Then she left. It should’ve been a blessed occurrence, should’ve improved his concentration at least—but of course, it didn’t.
He was surrounded by the ghost of some tropical scent that might belong to her. Why had she been on this floor, if she was a law student? And why had she stayed so long and only looked out of the window? And why the hell had he come to sit next to her?
He left the library woefully early. When he came back the next day, she was in his fucking seat.
On Tuesday, he sat beside her like a fool, imagining a taut string stretched between them. A thread of glittering tension that connected his furtive gaze and his pounding heart to her raw beauty. He knew he was the only one who felt it.
On Wednesday, he finally got some work done. Not as much as he’d like, but more than he’d managed over the past few days. He must be getting used to her. Growing immune to her magnetic pull. He’d just started on the second part of his assignment when the rain began.
“Ah, fuck,” she said. “I didn’t bring a jacket.”
She was still staring out of the window, but she didn’t sound as if she was talking to herself. So Rahul looked out of the window with her, at the insistent drizzle, and said, “You can have mine.”
She looked at him, finally, a little smile teasing her lips. “You’d give me your coat?”
Rahul shrugged. He couldn’t speak. Turned out, he wasn’t used to her at all.
“What a gentleman,” she murmured, her smile growing into a full-blown grin. Her cheeks plumped up and little lines fanned from her almond-shaped eyes. She had an adorable smile. That was unexpected.
Rahul smiled back. “I don’t mind a bit of rain.”
“That’s good to know, but I can’t take your coat.”She said it with authority, in a tone that brooked no argument.
Still, Rahul hesitated to give in. His father had raised him to be a gentleman, whatever the hell that meant. So he said, “Look, I really don’t mind—”
“But I can win it.”
He blinked at the interruption. “Win it?”
“Yes.” She turned back to the window and said, “Choose a raindrop.”
